Vogeler and The Mexican Fellow
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| - | + | A short exerimental drama by [[Steven Vogeler]], performed several times at The Pocket Sandwich Theater in Dallas, Texas. The narrative, as such, is delivered through the disjointed rambling of a fevered cashier working in a white-supremacist supply store. The text was printed in the 27th issue of [[Reticent 27]], second series, as ''The Ongoing Adventures of a Man And His Country, Both Entirely Hi-Jacked.'' | |
| - | == The Ongoing Adventures of a Man And His Country, Largely Hi-Jacked == | + | |
| == Excerpted == | == Excerpted == | ||
| ---- | ---- | ||
| - | |||
| - | ''by Mexicans and Americans'' | ||
| '''Vogeler:''' | '''Vogeler:''' | ||
| - | : Behold, I have come among you, and have found you wanting." | + | : Behold, I have come among you, and have found you wanting. |
| : Wanting for a bath, that is. | : Wanting for a bath, that is. | ||
| - | '''Stinky motheruckers:''' | + | '''Unwashed Masses:''' |
| - | : ''(crowd murmers incosolately)'' | + | : ''(murmuring incosolately)'' |
| - | : But seriously, you should think about your soul. Think about the Gove Desert. When a sinner plants : : his seed, God thinks, here is a man who can clean up after my white blessed children. Because after : the party of intermixing is accomplished, we will need a fire. | + | : But seriously, you should think about your soul. Think about the Gove Desert. When a sinner plants his seed, God thinks, here is a man who can clean up after my pale-skinned and blessed children. Because after the party of inter-mixing is accomplished, we will need a fire. |
| - | :(here is where need the froth of tones | + | :''(here is where we need the froth of tones, the froth of mankind, the mocha froth of mankind)'' |
| - | : the frothe of mankind | + | |
| - | : the mocah froth of mankind) | + | '''Vogeler:''' |
| + | : O' Poobish Ones, ye who would be deceived, whose heads are unprotected from dreaded shedding, I ask you -- ye who even now assemble before me, querying. It is you to whom I speak, just stop querying ad infinitum. | ||
| + | : ''(runs to waiting car or, alternately, into the famed Austrian stage-drama, '''A Mule With Four Sticks''')'' | ||
| + | |||
| + | '''Poor Man's Rickshaw:''' | ||
| + | : ''(in his first appearance, bellows)'' | ||
| + | : I am full of the people. I vomit people, I am so full. If you could extract the people -- one by one -- from the elaborate redescription of my paw than you can find the RickShaw Code, obedient tho you must be to discover it's ultimate secret -- a secret so astounding that even daughters of the revolution will lift their skirts to it, raising simultaneous East Coast eyebrows/infections -- most of them waxed, apparently. | ||
| + | |||
| + | '''The Spine:''' | ||
| + | :Bitches! I eat turds like you for breakfast. I saw you once, dangling, and I cut the thread. | ||
| + | |||
| + | == See Also == | ||
| + | |||
| + | ---- | ||
| + | |||
| + | * [[The Farmer Diary]] | ||
| + | |||
| + | * [[Steven Vogeler]] | ||
Current revision
A short exerimental drama by Steven Vogeler, performed several times at The Pocket Sandwich Theater in Dallas, Texas. The narrative, as such, is delivered through the disjointed rambling of a fevered cashier working in a white-supremacist supply store. The text was printed in the 27th issue of Reticent 27, second series, as The Ongoing Adventures of a Man And His Country, Both Entirely Hi-Jacked.
[edit]
Excerpted
Vogeler:
- Behold, I have come among you, and have found you wanting.
- Wanting for a bath, that is.
Unwashed Masses:
- (murmuring incosolately)
- But seriously, you should think about your soul. Think about the Gove Desert. When a sinner plants his seed, God thinks, here is a man who can clean up after my pale-skinned and blessed children. Because after the party of inter-mixing is accomplished, we will need a fire.
- (here is where we need the froth of tones, the froth of mankind, the mocha froth of mankind)
Vogeler:
- O' Poobish Ones, ye who would be deceived, whose heads are unprotected from dreaded shedding, I ask you -- ye who even now assemble before me, querying. It is you to whom I speak, just stop querying ad infinitum.
- (runs to waiting car or, alternately, into the famed Austrian stage-drama, A Mule With Four Sticks)
Poor Man's Rickshaw:
- (in his first appearance, bellows)
- I am full of the people. I vomit people, I am so full. If you could extract the people -- one by one -- from the elaborate redescription of my paw than you can find the RickShaw Code, obedient tho you must be to discover it's ultimate secret -- a secret so astounding that even daughters of the revolution will lift their skirts to it, raising simultaneous East Coast eyebrows/infections -- most of them waxed, apparently.
The Spine:
- Bitches! I eat turds like you for breakfast. I saw you once, dangling, and I cut the thread.
[edit]
