Happy Birthday, Hitler!

A Play in Two Acts

Act I
A street in Berlin

HEINRICH: Did you know it's Hitler's birthday today?
RUDOLF: Yes I did, in fact.
HEINRICH: I wonder why we don't do anything to celebrate.
RUDOLF: Celebrating Hitler's birthday? Are you insane?
HEINRICH: Yes I am!

Brief dance number

HEINRICH: Ah, dancing.
RUDOLF: It truly is the nectar of the Gods.
HEINRICH: This is a good way to celebrate, no?
RUDOLF: Dancing?
HEINRICH: Yes. Hitler would have outlawed dancing.
RUDOLF: Really?
HEINRICH: I don't know.
RUDOLF: Then why did you say that?
HEINRICH: I like to make things up.
RUDOLF: You shouldn't do that to history.
HEINRICH: Do I look like a historian to you, Rudolf?
RUDOLF: Historians don't really have a distinctive look.


Act II
Israel

METHUZELAH: Thank God Hitler's dead.
ZECHARAIAH: Not soon enough.
METHUZELAH: This heat is killing me.
ZECHARAIAH: That's not funny.
METHUZELAH: What? What's not funny?
ZECHARAIAH: Forget it.
METHUZELAH: Oy, the heat.
ZECHARAIAH: But this is the promised land.
METHUZELAH: And look what it does to my equilibrium.
ZECHARAIAH: Wait, did you know it was Hitler's birthday today?
METHUZELAH: Did you say it's Mitzah's birthday?
ZECHARAIAH: Nevermind.

Further down the road

NEVA: It's Mitzah's birthday today.
GOLDA: Are you having a party for her?
NEVA: No, she lives in America.
GOLDA: Good for her.
NEVA: Yes. It's much too hot here.
GOLDA: Let's go swimming.
NEVA: Hooray!

O Yay Thee Ballgame

We attended the ballgame. It was a game made of balls, and cooked sausages, filled with tomato-flavored factory induced sauce, chopped pickles, diced onions, and mustard. Oh yes, there was mustard. And two out of three legends were there.

Beach balls were tossed into the artifical wind. Cellular phones were spoken into. Non-disabled people sat in the disabled section. (Maybe they were disabled, though...the mental kind of disablement, and the mental disablement that one could easily be cured for were one not a total jackass. Or jackasses.)

Leads were blown, pitches were thrown belt-high, doubles were hit against the baggie...Ten Runs Were Scored by the Angels in the Outfield. (Sans Danny Glover, Christopher Lloyd, and, of course, Tony Danza.)

And the home team came home the victors.

Oh yes. What a bizarre night.

And there was still an empty seat in the Legends throne.

Double Your Pleasure

I was just about to post something about how nobody posts here anymore when I discovered that someone had posted here already today.

Two posts in one day on the Legends blog.

This is ground-breaking. Earth-shattering. Floor-splitting. Ink-spilling. Mouth-opening. And such'n'such.

Now let's all take a step back, pause, and enjoy.

An Ode to Mr. Goodbar

O! Mr. Goodbar
Thine group of peanuts covered in delectable fudge
Why do they call thee Goodbar?

Thine cluster of peanuts surrounded by the pride of Columbia
(pride of Columbia that isnt the white powder that goes in the nose boy that feels good just inhaling it and the blood drips and drippppppssssss)
Why must thee call it "Good"?

Thus must be bequeathed a proper handle:
Mr. Mediocrebar