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 life’s work with the unveiling of... the World’s LARGEST Guitar!!

WISSENSCHAFT: Thank you, Doctor Pinkerton. Actually, the name World’s 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, it’s 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, something’s coming....

WISSENSCHAFT: (Exasperated) Yes, the back of my hand if you don’t....

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 didn’t 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!!

ALL: HUZZAH!!

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 are…

(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.

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!!

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, I’m 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?

CROWD: Freebird!

PINKERTON: Shucks, I ain’t even worked up a sweat yet! YEEEEHAAAH!!

WISSENSCHAFT: Sumpin's wrong with the Time Door. Here, lemme kick it....

COMPUTER: Time door remote activation sequence engaged.

<The alien emerges…>

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!!

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 time…

<The Men in Black appear! One restrains the alien and leads it off stage…>

ALIEN: (Trailing off as she is led away) Stop. Wait. What are you doing. Don’t touch me there. Get your grubby hands off me. I’ve got a green card. Once Zaltar finds out about this you’re going to be in big trouble…

<The other MIB hurriedly flashes some ID at Pinkerton.>

ALL: (Dazed) Yo? Wassup! What’s going on?

MIB: Con security, Section 6. We’ll 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 don’t 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 one’s 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....

<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 I’ve been through a radical set of changes, shaking me to the very core of my being. I’m not even sure who I am any more.

WISSENSCHAFT: In short, you’re confused?

PINKERTON: (Brightening) Yes!! That’s it!! I’m Confused!!

WISSENSCHAFT: Are you insured?

PINKERTON: No, I’m confused.

WISSENSCHAFT: ARE YOU INSURED?

PINKERTON: Oh, yeah.

WISSENSCHAFT: Well then, let’s proceed. Perhaps if you try to talk your way through the confusion, it might help you work out what you’re confused about.

PINKERTON: Talk through it? Okay.... it all began at the tender age of 5… (trails off as song starts)

PINKERTON: Good work, Wissenschaft!! The confusion has dissipated!!

WISSENSCHAFT: Well, that’s all well and good, but we STILL don’t have a viable virus sample.

PINKERTON: But we DO have the GREEN SLIME!!

WISSENSCHAFT: NO!! NOT THE GREEN SLIME!!

FILBERT: (after a pause) What’s Green Slime?

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 didn’t 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... "It’s not a bug, it’s 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>

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?

FILBERT: (Howls)

PINKERTON: Looks like thinking’s not an option. Wissenschaft? Anything?

WISSENSCHAFT: I think I’ve got something. How about this? (STARTS GUITAR RIFF)

PINKERTON: YES!! THAT’S IT!!

PINKERTON: (Wistfully) Still not toxic enough. We’ll 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!! You’d 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 Consortiums’ 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 Probe…>

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.

PINKERTON: (Proudly) There goes our first customer.

WISSENSCHAFT: Our first and only customer…

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... isn’t 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: That’s not what I meant....

WISSENSCHAFT: Please, Dr. Pinkerton, allow me. You see, Filbert, what you’re suffering from is what we in the business call a "guilty conscience". You’ll eventually lose it, and it will be replaced by "moral ambiguity".

FILBERT: What are "morals"?

WISSENSCHAFT: They’re how society determines correct behavior. Here, let Dr. Pinkerton explain.

<Pinkerton swings around, looking all Elvislike!>

FILBERT: But if something is wrong, doesn’t that make it evil?

PINKERTON: (Ripping off sideburns) Ah, Filbert, Filbert, Filbert. Don’t you realize that evil spelled backwards is live? And we all want to do that, don’t we? So if you truly want to understand evil, you must go to the source!! You see, Filbert…

FILBERT: (Confidently) So, if the Evil One kills people, and killing is wrong, then Death is evil!!

PINKERTON: BRILLIANT…Brilliantly 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!!

PINKERTON: You see, even the grim specter of Death itself can be conquered by the C.O.G.!!

ALL: 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.

DEATH: SILENCE!!

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 reveal… BARNEY) YES!! On this, we are in complete agreement!! This waddling purple travesty must DIE!!

PINKERTON: That felt GOOD!!!! Now, on to our next subject....

ALIEN

ALIEN: That’s them, officers.

MIB: (pushing Pinkerton, Death, et al OFF STAGE) Whatever I said before, Section 6. We’ve had some complaints about the noise, so I’m going to have to ask you to vacate the stage... (pulls out big gun) Alright, move alone. Don’t go away angry, just go away. Don’t 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.