C.O.G. vs. The BBQ Sauce of Death ver. 1.1

Pinkerton: Howdy ya’ll and welcome to anuther scientifical symposium by yours truly. Fur those of ya’ll who ain’t yet in the know, I’m Dr. Slim Pinkerton, founder and leader of the Cowboys of Genius! A group better known as the C.O.G.!

All: COG!!!

Pinkerton: Show ‘nuf. Furthermore, allow me to introduce my pardners in crime. Over on my left here is Texas ‘A’ Pentatonic

Pentatonic: <pulls hat brim> Howdy.

Pinkerton: And this here young whippersnapper is Filbert, the Snodgrass kid! Say, Snodgrass, what’s that yer carryin’ anyways? Hand it over so I can get a look see at it.

Filbert: <moving container behind his back> Shucks Dr. Pinkerton it’s just a lil’ something I found while I was out riding my horse! I was hoping you’d let me keep it!

Pinkerton: Now Filbert, you know better ‘n’ that! What if there was something dangerous in there, like a rattlesnake... or dynamite? Even worse, what if that can was full of Green Slime?!??

Pentatonic and Filbert: GREEN SLIME?

GREEN SLIME

Pinkerton: Well all of this postulatin’s gettin’ me hungry. Heck, maybe there’s somethin’ in there we can eat! Filbert, you open the can while me and Tex stand over yonder.

Filbert: OK sure I trust you guys!

<Pinkerton and Pentatonic shield themselves from the blast that never comes. Instead, Filbert starts sniffing the contents of the can and dips his hand in to taste...>

Pinkerton: FILBERT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!??

Filbert: But Doc it’s alright! I think it’s just barbecue sauce!

Pinkerton: <shakes finger at Filbert> Why Filbert, you don’t even know where that’s from. Suppose it’s from Noo York City!

Filbert and Pentatonic: NOO YORK CITY?!??!

Pinkerton: Yer darn tootin! Supposin’ that sauce’s gone bad. Why, it could cause you sickness... or even DEATH!

DEATH

during song:

Death: What the HELL is this? Where’s the Consortium of Genius? Who are you fools anyway?

<Pentatonic pulls a revolver and shoots Death dead.>

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Pinkerton: Heck, that all gives me an idear! Ya know, being as we are geniuses and all that, I guess we should try this stuff out on somebody else before eatin’ it ourselves. Pentatonic, take one o’ them there rhesus monkeys out the corral and stick him in the barbecue sauce for a while. Later on we’ll open the can and see whether that lil’ devil’s still alive!

MONKEY SOUNDS

<Pentatonic turns away from the audience and puts something in the can, then closes the lid. Soft monkey sounds are heard at first, then louder protests followed by the slam of the lid.>

Pentatonic: <to can> AND STAY IN THERE!!! <to Pinkerton> There. The monkey’s in the can.

Filbert: But Doc Pinkerton, that monkey never did anything to you! Isn’t this kind of experimentation morally wrong?

Pinkerton: Why Filbert, Filbert... FILBERT! Of course it’s wrong, terribly wrong, but we didn’t get to be the desperados that we are by being nice to every old body! Heck, we do wrong things all the time! Listen’ up!

MORALLY WRONG

Filbert: Can I set the monkey free now, Doc?

Pinkerton: Alright Filbert, ah reckon you can let that there monkey outta that dang ol’ can now.

Filbert: OK, here let’s just let you out little frien... WHOA!

<Filbert reaches in and is startled to pull out not a little monkey but a little SKELETON!>

FILTHY

Filthy: Get your filthy hands off me you stinkin’ Snodgrass!

Pentatonic: Hey Filbert, looks like the sauce is safe. Eat up heh heh...

Filthy: Put me back in the can, I want more barbecue!

<Filbert, repulsed, flings Filthy Catbox offstage>

Filthy: Whaaaaah!

Pinkerton: There, ya see Filbert? Always test yer theories on someone else first. It just so appears that this particular barbecue sauce first turns you evil, then skeletonizes you to the bone!

Filbert: Evil?

MARCH OF THE SKELETONS

Pinkerton: Now hang on just a dadburned minute Filbert, where did you say you found this stuff?

Filbert: Well, I was just drivin’ along in my Ford pickup truck, nobody around for miles, and it was just lying there on the ground next to a crashed flying saucer, so I figured nobody would care if I just took it and...

Pinkerton: YOU MEAN TO SAY THIS BARBECUE SAUCE IS FROM OUTER SPACE?!??!

DING!

Pinkerton: Heck, I just got the best danged idear I’ve ever had!

Pentatonic: Better than the deth lasso?

Pinkerton: Oh hell yes. Much better ‘n’ that.

Pentatonic: Better than the killer mechanical bull?

Pinkerton: Yep, I reckon this is way better ‘n’ that one too.

Filbert: But is it better than

Pinkerton: Filbert, would you just shut yer hamburger hole and allow me to elucidate? Now then, what we’re gonna do is is bottle up this outer space barbecue sauce of death, and ship it to every steakhouse in Texas! Once word gets around about how delicious it is, everybody’ll try some! Then, once the population is all SKELETONIZED, I can rustle every cow within the surrounding five counties!!! Moooo! hahahahahaha!

Pentatonic: <awestruck for some reason> Hot damn. That’ll be the worst thing to hit the population since... the Black Plague of 1849!

BLACK PLAGUE

Pinkerton: Now then, we’ve just gotta get this stuff bottled up into those... whut did you jes say?

Audience member: Play Freebird!

Pinkerton: Did you jes say whut I thought you said? Whut song do you wanna hear? Freebird? Shucks, I ain’t even worked up a sweat yet!

FREE BIRD

Filbert is staring at the can of sauce. He opens the lid.

Pentatonic: Well Doc Pinkerton, that’s all fine and good, but we should take a rest and get some grub. I sure am gettin’ powerful hungry... and Filbert must be starvin’ ta death by now.

Filbert dips his hand in the sauce and puts it in his mouth.

Pinkerton: You know, I recon you’re right. Come on Filbert, let’s FILBERT, WHAT IN TARNATION DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOIN’?!??!

Filbert drops to the floor and starts convulsing

Pinkerton: Damnation, I can’t afford to lose another hand! Quick Filbert, drink this!

Pinkerton hands Filbert the MILK. Filbert drinks, then spits it out!

Pinkerton: <gently> Are you alright, Snodgrass kid?

Filbert: <outraged> What in the farganargling poppycock was that?

Pinkerton: Come on, you’ve seen it before... it’s that white liquid that comes out the bottom of a cow! Them dang ol’ Vikings used to drink it all the time! Listen up!

MILK

Pinkerton: So Filbert... what have we learned today?

Filbert: Not to eat the outer space barbecue sauce.

Pinkerton: <to audience> Ya’ll hear that? I reckon the Snodgrass Kid has leaned a valuable lesson today, a lesson that every cowboy must someday learn... in fact, Filbert, from this day on, I can’t call you ‘kid’ any longer. Because, Filbert, now you’re a MAN.

NOW YOU’RE A MAN

Pinkerton: Well heck Filbert, being as you’re a man now, I reckon it’s time you were introduced to a member of the opposite sex. Lemme tell you about a lil’ filly name of Android Woman...

ANDROID WOMAN

Pentatonic: You know Pinkerton, that barbecue sauce sure might be tasty as all get-out, but won’t people get kind ‘a riled up without any dessert?

Pinkerton: You’re just trying to get me to break out the ice-cream aren’t you? Well why not. In fact, ice cream for everyone!

I SCREAM

<After the song, Filbert removes his bass and starts gearing up to get all gothic... but Zarglar and the Brain Alien appear and abduct him right off the stage!>

Pinkerton: Now it’s time for a lil’ warning about them dang ol’ vampires of the wild west... Filbert?

Pentatonic: Holy shit Pinkerton, Filbert’s been abducted by aliens!

Pinkerton: Really? Guess they saw through his disguise. They didn’t recognize us did they?

Pentatonic: Don’t think so...

Pinkerton: <dropping accent> Then we can remove these ridiculous disguises. Back to the lab, Pentatonic! See you all in 2001!



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