OK. This is our first rehearsal for The Producers. We need someone to play Leo Bloom and someone to play Max Bialystock. I'll be the Concierge. And, Benny up there will play one of the Dirty Digusting Pigeons. Let's start...
Concierge: Who d'ya want? Leo Bloom: I beg your pardon? Concierge: Who d'ya want? Nobody gets in the building unless I know who they want. I'm the "concierge". My husband used to be the "concierge", but he's dead. Now I'M the "concierge". Max Bialystock: We are seeking Franz Liebkind. Concierge: Oh... the Kraut! He's on the top floor, apartment 23. Max Bialystock: Thank you... Concierge: ...But you won't find him there... he's up on the roof with his boids. He keeps boids. Dirty... disgusting... filthy... lice-ridden boids. You used to be able to sit out on the stoop like a person. Not anymore! No, sir! Boids!... You get my drift? Leo Bloom: We... uh... get your "drift". Thank you, madam. Concierge: I'm not a "madam"! I'm a "concierge"!
30 comments:
"My desires are... unconventional."
"Well, Obama promised cage."
That's your third cousin Manny. He was born a stool pigeon but grew up to be a jailbird.
He's been like that ever since John Cleese nailed him to his perch.
"Huge Maya Angelou fan."
"This is the worst production of 'La Cage' ever."
"They had to cage him ... He thinks he's Don Ho ... And keeps singing ... 'Tiny Bubbles'!"
He showed up shortly after they shut down Guano-tanamo.
"We had to cage him ... He kept fleeing the co-op!"
"We had to hide his Iphone, and cage him ... His Tweeting was driving us crazy!"
"He's the new Bank of Bird-in-Hand's branch manager!"
"He calls it a 'gated community'"
"Suicide by wind."
"That's right kids, your dad is Pretty Boy Floyd."
She's a go-go dancer. It's a 60s thing.
The doors to your cage shall be decked with gold
And hung on a willow tree
OK. This is our first rehearsal for The Producers. We need someone to play Leo Bloom and someone to play Max Bialystock. I'll be the Concierge. And, Benny up there will play one of the Dirty Digusting Pigeons. Let's start...
Concierge: Who d'ya want?
Leo Bloom: I beg your pardon?
Concierge: Who d'ya want? Nobody gets in the building unless I know who they want. I'm the "concierge". My husband used to be the "concierge", but he's dead. Now I'M the "concierge".
Max Bialystock: We are seeking Franz Liebkind.
Concierge: Oh... the Kraut! He's on the top floor, apartment 23.
Max Bialystock: Thank you...
Concierge: ...But you won't find him there... he's up on the roof with his boids. He keeps boids. Dirty... disgusting... filthy... lice-ridden boids. You used to be able to sit out on the stoop like a person. Not anymore! No, sir! Boids!... You get my drift?
Leo Bloom: We... uh... get your "drift". Thank you, madam.
Concierge: I'm not a "madam"! I'm a "concierge"!
End Scene
"Tweet, don't tweet grow tweet up tweet to be tweet like tweet Uncle tweet Tim. B'gaw
"We're doing a production of La Cage Aux Fowls".
Jim Cavanaugh
"Your father's in the sin bin for pooping in his own nest."
"He's serving one to three, for flashing his pecker!"
"Well…It looks like he was 'set free' by someone who was very passive aggressive."
I know why the caged bird sings but I don't know the song. But if she tweets a few bars, I can wing it.
"I thought Kafka was only joking."
Your Dad's agoraphobia has flared up again.
"He did unspeakable things to a worm that went viral."
"His name is Larry. And he's a cager."
3000 trips down the coal mine later, you get a gold cage and a decent pension.
50 Shades of Gray Parrot
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