C.O.G. scriptversion 2.4 for DragonCon'98
Stage directions are generally enclosed in <>. Underlined sections are sequence starts.
PINKERTON: My fellow scientists, ladies, gentlemen, and members of the worldwide press, allow me to introduce myself, for soon, my name will be a household word! I am Dr. Milo Thaddeus Pinkerton III, founder and leader of the Consortium of Genius, better known as the C.O.G.!
FILBERT, WISSENSCHAFT, assorted geeks: C.O.G.!!!
PINKERTON: On my right is Junior Scientist in Training Filbert Wilhelm Snodgrass, and on my left is Doctor Wolfgang Amadeus Wissenschaft, who will, before your very eyes, culminate his lifeís work with the unveiling of... the Worldís LARGEST Guitar!!
WISSENSCHAFT: Thank you, Doctor Pinkerton. Actually, the name Worldís LARGEST Guitar is a misnomer, for the guitar was constructed not on Earth, but in orbit around Saturn, because in all of our solar system, itís a different kind of planet. <beat> By using the camera attached to one of our remote worker drones, you can see that the guitar...
FILBERT: Um, Doctors....
PINKERTON: Not now, Filbert!! Continue, Wissenschaft.
FILBERT: But, somethingís coming....
WISSENSCHAFT: (Exasperated) Yes, the back of my hand if you donít....
FILBERT: (Cowering a little) SOMETHING'S APPROACHING THE GUITAR!!!
WISSENSCHAFT: WHAT?!? NO!! Let me put it up on the monitor.... It looks... familiar. Oh my God, it looks like a giant guitar pick!! And they're on a collision course!! They must mean to PLAY the guitar!!
PINKERTON & FILBERT: DUH!!
WISSENSCHAFT: It hasn't been tested!! It hasn't even been TUNED!! (Whiny) I didnít get to play it FIRST!!!! Filbert, fire retro-rockets immediately! We must move the guitar out of the way!!!
FILBERT: (enthusiastically) 90 degrees starboard, mon capitain!
WISSENSCHAFT: NO FILBERT, YOU IDIOT, MOVE THE GUITAR IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION!!!
<IMPACT occurs around here>
PINKERTON: No sound, Wissenschaft. NO SOUND AT ALL!! <Grabs Wissenschaft> It's in a vacuum!! All that money we stole... uh, embezzled... uh,... all of it gone!! What have you done?!? What were you thinking, man?!?
WISSENSCHAFT: I don't know!! It SHOULD have WORKED!! My calculations....
FILBERT: In space, no one can hear you strum...
PINKERTON & WISSENSCHAFT: SHUT UP!!
WISSENSCHAFT: (Stunned) That... that was the guitar... OF COURSE!! The time lag!! We forgot the time lag from Saturn to here!! And look!! The guitar is relatively undamaged!!
PINKERTON: Gentlemen, this is another triumph for the C.O.G.!
FILBERT & WISSENSCHAFT: C.O.G.!!
PINKERTON: This calls for a celebration!! LET'S PARTY!!
PINKERTON: Now, to the heart of the lecture! As you may know, there's been a lot of loose talk these days about biological weapons of mass destruction, such as genetically engineered diseases, sarin nerve gas, anthrax....
FILBERT: (Helpfully) Metallica, Guns 'n Roses, Megadeth....
PINKERTON: (Annoyed) FILBERT!! Now, we of the Consortium have been paying attention to this recent trend, and we want in on the action!! But, how to go about it? We could invent a virus, but that would involve time, money, manpower, research, development....
WISSENSCHAFT: That, and we only have Filbert as a guinea pig....
FILBERT: Yeah... HEY!!
PINKERTON: OR, we could simply reintroduce an old disease and call it our own!! By the time anyone would find out, it would be too late!! Of course, we would have to obtain one of the most potent and virulent of the "golden oldies"....
FILBERT & WISSENSCHAFT: YOU DON'T MEAN....
PINKERTON: YES!! The BLACK PLAGUE!!
PINKERTON: By utilizing the Consortiums' greatest invention, the TIME DOOR, we shall pluck from the dank and dismal depths of the Dark Ages a specimen suffering from the ravages of the Black Plague, bring him here, and begin cultivating and purifying an advanced strain of the disease!! Then, it's only a matter of mass production and figuring out what our demands areÖ
(Pinkerton trails off then snaps out of his reverie...)
PINKERTON: Wissenschaft, don the visorscope and set the controls on the Time Door for a precision retrieval!! Filbert, (resigned) you can help me by setting the coordinates.
TIME DOOR SCOPE
PINKERTON: No, WRONG TIME ZONE! That's too far back. Forward in time, you idiot. No, TENTH century time zone... England... Ah, there's some poor unfortunate!! <Filbert bumps into Pinkerton> FILBERT you idiot! Now I've lost him!!
TIME DOOR 1013
COMPUTER: Time Door coordinates locked and activated!! Retrieval process engaged!!
PINKERTON: NO!! It's the wrong target!! There's no way of knowing what's coming through!! It could be anything!! Anybody!!
<THE ARCHER APPEARS!!>
PINKERTON: ANYTHING!! (Recovers somewhat) Excuse me, sir, but, by any chance, do you have the plague?
ARCHER: <Grabs Pinkerton> In the year of our Lord 1013, pestilence ravages the land. NO ONE IS SAFE!! Not king, baron, knight, or even the innocent peasents who toil in the fields. It is a time of Death, as a vile affliction strikes them down one by one. It is the time of... the BLACK PLAGUE!!!
<As the song ends, Pinkerton produces a syringe and attempts to dose the Archer. After the normal size hypodermic fails to work, he tries the honking big one. THAT one works. The Archer calms....The syringe is handed to Wissenschaft.>
ARCHER: KILL!!! KILL! Uh... kill.
PINKERTON: Well, that's better. Unfortunately, <rubs neck> you're PERFECTLY healthy. Except for that. You know, Iím a rather brilliant scientist. I could probably do something about that arrow. How in the world did that happen?
<Toward the end of the song, the Archer gets increasingly erratic, causing Pinkerton to produce the Mezmoronic ray and zap the Archer>
PINKERTON: Now it ends!! NOW!!
<Pinkerton hands the Archer a BOMB and pushes him through the Time Door>
PINKERTON: That'll teach you to mess with a scientist of my caliber!! In a mere matter of moments, there'll be nothing left of that archer but assorted amounts of atoms!! BOOHOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
FILBERT: But, Doctor, what about the time stream?
PINKERTON: (Savoring victory) What ABOUT the... (realization dawns) time stream? THE TIME STREAM!!!
BOOM!! (at end of Time Door sequence) - LIGHTS GO DOWN
<The scene has changed, slightly. The scientists are wearing cowboy hats, the logo has changed, maybe there are some cacti, etc. Remember the twang!>
PINKERTON: Well, now that that's over with, I'm a-ready to kick up my heels with some good, old-fashioned, redneck rock'n'roll!! What song do you wanna hear?
PINKERTON: Shucks, I ainít even worked up a sweat yet! YEEEEHAAAH!!
WISSENSCHAFT: Sumpin's wrong with the Time Door. Here, lemme kick it....
TIME DOOR 3012
COMPUTER: Time door remote activation sequence engaged.
<The alien emergesÖ>
PINKERTON: What in tarnation is that?!?
ALIEN: Greetings, Twentieth-century humans. I come from a thousand years in the future, bearing greetings from all sentient beings. You are Dr. Milo Thaddeus Pinkerton III, I presume?
PINKERTON: Why, no sir... ma'am... whatever you are! I'm Slim Pinkerton, this here is Tex Wissenschaft, and this young whippersnapper here is Filbert, the Snodgrass Kid.
ALIEN: Are you not the Consortium of Genius?
PINKERTON: Hell, no!! We're the Cowboys of Genius!!
COWBOYS OF GENIUS LOGO
ALL: YEEHAH!! (or other Western-style celebration noises)
PINKERTON: (Continuing) And we're here to make the world safe for both kinds of music: Country and Western!!
ALIEN: (glancing at portable brain scanner) No! This is in error!! The time stream has been corrupted!! Their brain wave patterns are only 17% of norm!!
PINKERTON: (Hurt) Well, we may not be the best brains in the country, but we're the best brains IN country!!
ALIEN: SILENCE, MORONS!! It is time you were reminded of the limitless potential of the human brain!!
ALIEN: My work here is finished. I can now return to my proper timeÖ
<The Men in Black appear! One restrains the alien and leads it off stageÖ>
ALIEN LED OFF STAGE
ALIEN: (Trailing off as she is led away) Stop. Wait. What are you doing. Donít touch me there. Get your grubby hands off me. Iíve got a green card. Once Zaltar finds out about this youíre going to be in big troubleÖ
<The other MIB hurriedly flashes some ID at Pinkerton.>
ALL: (Dazed) Yo? Wassup! Whatís going on?
MIB: Con security, Section 6. Weíll take it from here.
PINKERTON: (Recovering some bombast) Where are you taking our new specimen?
MIB: Ah. If you gentlemen would just look right here, I believe I can explain everything....
MIB: All right, folks, what you just saw was swamp gas reflecting off of the third place winner in the Novice division of the Costume contest. Now, why donít you stop all of this screaming and hollering and play a nice, soothing love song?
PINKERTON: (Dazed) Yes... love.... (Recovers somewhat) Ah, yes, at long last, love. A time when oneís mind turns to happier things in life. Softer, rounder, more curvy things.... Y'know, those... thingies. What are they called again?
FILBERT: (Confidently) Pretzels!
PINKERTON: NO!! What ARE they... Ah yes, of COURSE! WOMEN!! That's it!! Women.... (Suavely) And this one is for all the women in the front row, and beyond....
ALL I WANNA DO IS YOU
<After Pinkerton is dosed, the lights go out. When they come back on, Pinkerton is sitting/lying down, with Wissenschaft nearby, taking notes>
WISSENSCHAFT: So, what seems to be the problem?
PINKERTON: I dunno. Ever since the start of this lecture, I feel as if Iíve been through a radical set of changes, shaking me to the very core of my being. Iím not even sure who I am any more.
WISSENSCHAFT: In short, youíre confused?
PINKERTON: (Brightening) Yes!! Thatís it!! Iím Confused!!
WISSENSCHAFT: Are you insured?
PINKERTON: No, Iím confused.
WISSENSCHAFT: ARE YOU INSURED?
PINKERTON: Oh, yeah.
WISSENSCHAFT: Well then, letís proceed. Perhaps if you try to talk your way through the confusion, it might help you work out what youíre confused about.
PINKERTON: Talk through it? Okay.... it all began at the tender age of 5Ö (trails off as song starts)
PINKERTON: Good work, Wissenschaft!! The confusion has dissipated!!
WISSENSCHAFT: Well, thatís all well and good, but we STILL donít have a viable virus sample.
PINKERTON: But we DO have the GREEN SLIME!!
WISSENSCHAFT: NO!! NOT THE GREEN SLIME!!
FILBERT: (after a pause) Whatís Green Slime?
GREEN SLIME ANALYSIS 1
PINKERTON: Allow me to elucidate!! Green Slime is a toxin that the Consortium developed a while back to compete with Ebola and some of the other new, big name viruses out there. Unfortunately, it didnít work out quite as we hoped. However, during testing, we found that it had a clean, refreshing taste!! Pity about what happened to poor Dr. Smerlington, though. And so, following the Bill Gates Principle, which is...?
FILBERT: Ummm... "Itís not a bug, itís a feature"?
PINKERTON: Excellent! Give him a cookie.
<At this, Wissenschaft reaches into his coat pocket and gives Filbert a cookie, much like a dog treat>
GREEN SLIME ANALYSIS 2
PINKERTON: Following the Gates Principle, we will market this substance as a SOFT DRINK, and downplay the after effects as a trendy way to get time off of work!! We only need one thing to guarantee success....
FILBERT: Research? Development? Um, other science stuff?
WISSENSCHAFT: <Cuffing him> No, you fool!! We need an advertising jingle!!
PINKERTON: Excellent!! Give yourself a cookie.
<Wissenschaft reaches into his pocket to get the cookie, but stops short of eating it>
PINKERTON: Now, Filbert, try this.
<Pinkerton hands over the beaker of Slime, which Filbert drinks with gusto>
PINKERTON: What do you think?
PINKERTON: Looks like thinkingís not an option. Wissenschaft? Anything?
WISSENSCHAFT: I think Iíve got something. How about this? (STARTS GUITAR RIFF)
PINKERTON: YES!! THATíS IT!!
PINKERTON: (Wistfully) Still not toxic enough. Weíll NEVER compete with Surge at this rate!!
WISSENSCHAFT: Don't you think we should do something? He really looks ill....
PINKERTON: You're right. Besides which, that's the only sample we have. We'll have to induce vomiting immediately! Here Filbert, drink this.
<Pinkerton hands Filbert a glass of milk, which induces (off-stage, please) vomiting>
FILBERT: BLEAH!!! What WAS that?!?!?
PINKERTON: Just what William Shatner recommends on "Rescue:911"! MILK!
FILBERT & WISSENSCHAFT: (Incredulously) MILK?!?!?!?
PINKERTON: Yes, milk!! Don't let the smooth taste fool you!! Some of the most evil, devious, scheming minds of all time have swilled milk!!
<Pictures of fierce overlords with milk mustaches begin to appear on the screen>
PINKERTON: Why, even the fearsome Viking raiders of old had mustaches!! Attend!!
<Song plays here>
PINKERTON: So, Filbert, what did you think of the slime? <Pulls out a clipboard> Would you recommend it to your friends? If you had any?
FILBERT: NO!! Youíd have to have part of your brain missing to drink that stuff!!
PINKERTON: Part of your brain missing, hmm? <Puts clipboard away> Well, that task would be tailor-made for the Consortiumsí most insidious invention, the SONIC MIND PROBE!!!
WISSENSCHAFT & FILBERT: NO!!! Not the MIND PROBE!!!
<Pinkerton wheels out the Sonic Mind Probe>
PINKERTON: Yes!! The SONIC MIND PROBE!! A device which harmonizes sonic wave forms with brain wave patterns to a devastating effect!! At present, the Probe can only work on one subject at a time, such as... YOU!! Yes, you!! Get up here!!
<The subject is made to sit under the Sonic Mind ProbeÖ>
PINKERTON: (Aside) Wissenschaft, have [him/her] sign the waivers. (To all) For those of you who wish to replicate this demonstration, pay particular attention to the instructions we are about to provide.
LO BO TO MY
PINKERTON: (Proudly) There goes our first customer.
WISSENSCHAFT: Our first and only customerÖ
PINKERTON: (continuing) With a few adjustments to the Sonic Mind Probe, we should be able to sell Slime to the entire audience!! Wissenschaft, hand me the....
FILBERT: (Interrupting) Uh, Doctors?
PINKERTON: What is it now? (Brightening) Want some more Slime?
FILBERT: NO!! I mean... isnít what we just did... wrong?
PINKERTON: WRONG?!?!?!? What do you mean, wrong?!?!? How could it possibly be wrong?!? The Sonic Mind Probe worked perfectly!!
FILBERT: Thatís not what I meant....
WISSENSCHAFT: Please, Dr. Pinkerton, allow me. You see, Filbert, what youíre suffering from is what we in the business call a "guilty conscience". Youíll eventually lose it, and it will be replaced by "moral ambiguity".
FILBERT: What are "morals"?
WISSENSCHAFT: Theyíre how society determines correct behavior. Here, let Dr. Pinkerton explain.
<Pinkerton swings around, looking all Elvislike!>
FILBERT: But if something is wrong, doesnít that make it evil?
PINKERTON: (Ripping off sideburns) Ah, Filbert, Filbert, Filbert. Donít you realize that evil spelled backwards is live? And we all want to do that, donít we? So if you truly want to understand evil, you must go to the source!! You see, FilbertÖ
MARCH OF THE SKELETONS
FILBERT: (Confidently) So, if the Evil One kills people, and killing is wrong, then Death is evil!!
PINKERTON: BRILLIANTÖBrilliantly WRONG!! Death doesn't care about you, me, or anybody!! It's just an anthropomorphic personification of a metaphysical conceptulization!! It can strike anywhere, anytime!! And you had better be prepared to deal with it!! Like so!!
DEATH TO THE ANGEL OF DEATH
PINKERTON: You see, even the grim specter of Death itself can be conquered by the C.O.G.!!
PINKERTON: That, and extreme firepower!!
<Death rises!! Pinkerton hastily hands the gun to Filbert>
PINKERTON: Uh, hi, Mr. Death. I didn't do it! They made me do it! They're evil, you know.
PINKERTON: Um, sorry. Is there anything we can do for you?
DEATH: Yes. Deal with this. <Hands Pinkerton a rolled up poster>
PINKERTON: (Unrolling poster to revealÖ BARNEY) YES!! On this, we are in complete agreement!! This waddling purple travesty must DIE!!
DIE, BARNEY, DIE!!
PINKERTON: That felt GOOD!!!! Now, on to our next subject....
ALIEN: Thatís them, officers.
MIB: (pushing Pinkerton, Death, et al OFF STAGE) Whatever I said before, Section 6. Weíve had some complaints about the noise, so Iím going to have to ask you to vacate the stage... (pulls out big gun) Alright, move alone. Donít go away angry, just go away. Donít look at me like that! (to audience) Thanks for supporting evil music. (to C.O.G.) Leave all that stuff there, keep moving...
MIB: (To the C.O.G.) Move it!! Go home!! It's quitting time!! Your mom is calling you!! Vamoose! Last call for evil!! (etc., etc.)
© 1998 The Consortium of Genius. All Rights Reserved.