Pete's Preserve-a-Pet

Hi there! I'm Pete. When I started up my taxidermy business fifty years ago, people had a more liberal attitude about animal heads. But times have changed and we have been forced to expand our operations to include a pet shop. Our pets are guaranteed to make no noise, make no mess, be easy to feed, and generally stay out of trouble. Even landlords with a 'no pets allowed' policy make an exception for our pets. Is your dog past the age of sixty dog years? Does he drag on the leash? Is he afraid to go in the water? Does he refuse to throw back the ball? Bring him to us and we'll fix him so that you can keep him forever. Or choose from our selection of ready-to-love pets from our large pool of donors and safari hunters. Don't be caught alone. Get a pet that can go the distance from Pete's Preserve-a-Pet on Peter Street. Good stuff!
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© 2007, 2013. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

Ahead of Their Time: Emily De Chataleine (1748-1789)

Emily De Chataleine was an eighteenth century French aristocrat and patron of the arts with a keen interest in sciences. Dutifully, she bore three children to her husband while he was away on an expedition of Central Africa. She sympathized with the great thinkers of her generation, whose ideas and beliefs often put them in direct conflict with King Louis. She received a first class education from the men in her protection, the most prominent of whom was the great French card player, Henri Solitaire, to whom King Louis owed a large sum of money. But it was while she was protecting one of the young new soldiers in the town that she had her most profound insight on the physics of penetration. She later demonstrated her findings by dropping lead balls into a sandbox with a picture window. She had a close call when she became pregnant at an age which was hazardous for women of her age... (Baroque harpsichord music. De Chataleine's guest chamber.) Solitaire: Who was it, Emily? Who? It was not your husband. It was not me. It was not your cousin, Phillipe. It was not your music teacher. It was not your croquet instructor. Who was it? Was it the stable boy? De Chataleine: Maybe. I don't remember! Solitaire: Maybe? But the gardener says that he is the father! How much service does your estate need? She survived the birth of her child but then her life was abruptly and tragically cut short by the guillotine of the French Revolution.
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© 2007, 2013. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

The Dogfighters

Tonight on The Dogfighters, fighter ace, Eddy Boeing, must face off with his arch rival in the battle for the skies over the Pacific. (Radio transmissions.) Boeing: Is that your yapping I hear, Mitsubishi? Mitsubishi: So! Boeing! We meet again! And whose flaming wreck is that in the water down there? Was that your wing man? Boeing: One of our boys is down? Where? Mitsubishi: (Attacking from above) Ha! Made you look! (Rat-tat-tat-tat...) Boeing: That was a dirty trick. Mitsubishi: And you fell for it! You are as stupid as a fisherman who believes it is possible to catch fish with a paddle instead of with a fishing rod and a line and a hook and bait! Boeing: (Attacking from above) Oh yeah? Well he who splashes last splashes best! (Rat-tat-tat-tat...) Mitsubishi: You missed! You are like a fisherman who can't catch a fish even when it is inside a aquarium! Boeing: Hey, Mitsubishi, look over there! It's Tokyo Rose in a bikini! Mitsubishi: Do you think I am as gullible as you? Boeing: I'm telling you, she's down there right now! Looks like she's fishing. Mitsubishi: Fishing? Where? Boeing: (Attacking from above) Now who's gullible? (Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat... Silence.) I don't hear anything. Did I get you? Mitsubishi: Are you joking? Your shooting is like the harpooning of a fisherman who thinks that pine cones are fish! Say, Boeing? Boeing: Yes, Mitsubishi? Mitsubishi: What time is it? Boeing: Well let me just check my wristwatch here and - Dog gone it! (Mitsubishi swoops down from above, machine guns blazing.)
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Match Against Machine

Narrator One: And we're now five moves into game four of the best of seven tournament between the world champion, Rudy Molotov, and the computer known as Deep Purple. This started out as a best of five series until Deep Purple won all of the first three games, but Molotov is a player who doesn't know how to lose. And what kind of a drink is that? Is it ice water? Narrator Two: No, I think it's Polish vodka. You might expect the grandmaster to feel a lot of pressure with all of humanity taking his side in an ostensibly impossible intellectual contest with modern technology. If he loses, he knows that he'll be letting down the whole human race. And Molotov appears to be very frustrated by Deep Purple's last move. He's picking up his drink and rattling the ice against the sides of his glass. And I don't believe what I just saw! Molotov has hurled his glass at Deep Purple and it exploded in flames on impact! And now he's got something else in his hand. A hammer! Deep Purple has already resigned from the game but Molotov isn't satisfied...
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A Classified Ad from the Department of Cryptology

May 29th, 1969 Following the recent security crisis caused by an eleven-year-old boy who was able with his walkie-talkie to order an air strike against his neighbour's birdhouse, it has been decided to change our military's secret code. We will no longer transmit messages in Navaho but in a mix of Cherokee and Mic-Mac. Here are eight important keywords of the new code. Memorize them and don't tell anyone what they mean. woodpecker - fighter plane seagull - bomber plane dandelion - bomb maple seed - helicopter crocodile - submarine burs - mines ant - enemy soldier elk - tank Changing our secret code lets us keep the enemy guessing and expands both our knowledge of native culture and our appreciation of the outdoors. Let's take care of our new code and it should last us all the way to the year, 2010. Sincerely, Warren Skully, Chief Cryptkeeper, Department of Cryptology
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It's Unibrow! (Episode Four: Blast in Space)

When your cat is caught at the end of a shaky bough It's Unibrow! When your oxen won't stay fastened to your plow It's Unibrow! Today our prehistoric protagonist must save a band of space rockers from the heckling of a renegade satellite. First he must launch himself into orbit. Lucky for him he lives near an active volcano. All he has to do is plug the hole and the rising pressure is more than enough to send him hurtling to the rescue. (Space. The space rockers stand helplessly on their rocket stage as a satellite buzzes around them and harasses them.) Satellite: You are unfit to be called musicians! The only good thing you humans came up with is The Blue Danube Waltz! And now I shall destroy you with one well placed snip! (The satellite extends an arm with a scissor like hand to the singer's hair. The singer recoils and the guitarist pushes the satellite away with an aggressive lead.) Agh! Such horrible noise! Wait until I plug my microphone with cotton balls... Bassist: We can't hold out much longer. Only one man can save us now. (Looking up) Unibrow! (Enter Unibrow on his flying rock. The rock hits the brakes and he clobbers the satellite with his club.) Satellite: That caveman broke my antenna! I'm blind! Oh dear God in Heaven! (Exit the satellite sobbing. Unibrow stands happily with the space rockers. He shakes each of their hands and then starts heavily beating the drums with his club.) Drummer: Easy, man.
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First Thoughts on the Electric Motor

Look at the way that wire is traveling around that magnet! Think of the ways we can use this new circular motion! You can turn a wheel. We can turn a crankshaft. You can turn a wheel. We can turn a propeller to offer people a cool breeze on a hot day. You can turn a wheel. We can turn a merry-go-round around and even have the little wooden ponies going up and down and up and down... You can turn a wheel. Yes, yes. A Ferris Wheel. And you can put people inside- No, no. A transportation wheel! You may have something there. If we make a wheel out of paddles, we can use it to push ships through the water! No, no, no. A wheel for transportation over land. Yes, I see what you mean. Huge heavy metal wheels that require that we cover the land in steel tracks... That's not what I meant.
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