Wallaby Tears

Wallaby Tears

Scott Clayton

A number of suited corporate executives are seated along a table. The CEO stands at the head of the table and addresses the men.

Boss:
Alright, so as you are all surely aware, UltraCorp's profits dropped eighteen percent last quarter. So we need a hot new product. We need something that will sell. So...
(shouting offstage/outside)
ALRIGHT GUYS, COME ON IN!

Two men enter, wearing funky t-shirts and blazers, a little bit too energetically, looking like slightly douchey, hip product development guys.

Kevin:
Hey guys, I'm Kevin and this is my partner Josh and we're here to bounce some product ideas off of you guys, okay?

Josh:
Alright, let's get this thing started, you know?

Kevin:
So. You want a hot new energy drink? You want something that really kicks A? Check this.

Josh:
"Smash"...It's an energy cola....

Kevin:
Made of:

Josh:
Sixty percent. Kerosene.

Kevin:
(emphatically)
Uh.

There is a long, pause. The executives are confused.

Suit #1:
Wait... what?

Josh:
Kerosene, baby. It's fuel. For your mind, and your body.

Kevin slaps Josh on the ass.

Suit #2:
Isn't that dangerous?

Kevin:
(rushing ahead)
But that's not all. It's also got, uh...

Josh:
(with a snap)
Olive juice. For kick.

Kevin:
Yeah! For just the right amount of bite.

(beat)

Suit #1:
That's... that's disgusting.

Kevin:
Disgustingly good.

Josh:
Right.

Kevin:
But! We haven't told you about the secret ingredient!

Josh:
Are you ready?

Kevin:
Prepare yourself.

Josh:
Wallaby tears.

Kevin:
Boom.

Josh:
Get some.

Kevin:
That's what's happenin'.

Josh:
Booyah.

Kevin:
In. Yo. Face.

Kevin and Josh bump chests, gayly. There is another long pause.

Suit #1:
Wait... What's a wallaby?

Josh:
Mid-sized Australian marsupial.

Kevin:
Cries like a motherfucker.

Josh:
Fortunately for us, the wallaby season just opened. All we have to do is get our hands on some of these little critters, expose them to horrible, offensive images, and harvest the sweet, sweet nectar of their suffering.

Kevin:
...and sell it for a profit margin of 53 percent.

Josh:
Hey-oh!

They high-five, but don't release hands, and subtly bring their embraced hands down to waist level and hold for a few seconds too long before letting go. There is a long, long, awkward span of complete silence. The CEO stands up.

CEO:
Ahem... well... would you gentlemen please step out for a moment while the board discusses this?

Josh and Kevin leave the room. As soon as they are outside, they begin to jump up and down in excitement, holding hands. The rabbles and discussion of the board members can barely be heard through the door.

Kevin:
Oh my god, you were great.

Josh:
Really? You think they liked it?

Kevin:
We are sooo in.

Josh:
My heart's just beating so fast. I don't... I don't know what to do. I'm so flus... flustered.

Josh leans over and puts his hands on his knees, breathing heavy. Kevin starts pacing.

CEO:
(offscreen)
Alright, guys. Come on back in.

Josh and Kevin reenter the room.

CEO:
So... we discussed your proposal gentlemen, and we don't feel that it's... "marketable."

Kevin:
Wha... what?

Suit #1:
It sucks. This is probably the worst idea ever.

Suit #2:
By far. The worst.

Suit #1:
Yeah.

Kevin:
WHAT?!

Josh:
This can not be happening. No way.

There is a long pause.

CEO:
(awkwardly)
So...

Kevin:
Wait, wait,wait... I know what this is about. You bastards.

Josh starts sobbing.

Josh:
(in a high-pitched whine)
I can't believe this... We work so hard... and they don't even know... and the wallabyandthepizzarollsandIcan'tevengetabunnyrabbit...

He breaks down into heavy sobs.

Kevin:
(gesturing to himself and Josh)
This is because of our sexual preferences, right?

Josh:
(still sobbing)
...ketchup packets and leotards...

Kevin:
That's bullshit. What kinda company is this?

Suit #2:
We assure you, sir, our decision has nothing to do with the two of you, personally. We simply feel that the product is too...

Kevin:
Oh, fuck off. This is some fucked-up repugnant shit. This... this... this... agression. It will not stand, man!

Josh lets out a loud, wailing noise.

Kevin:
Look at him! His dreams are crushed! He's just a poor little kid. Come here, baby...
(He takes Josh in his arms and cuddles him)
Shh...
(Spitefully, at the men)
You sharks.

Still cradling Josh and glaring at the executives, Kevin reaches into his jacket pocket and removes a flask. He takes a sip, and as Josh lets out another whimper, he puts it down on the table. He tends his weeping partner. The CEO picks up the flask, sniffs it and takes a sip. He stands up and passes the flask around. All of the executives drink from it.

CEO:
This... this is it! This is what we're looking for! It's delicious! What is it?

Josh:
(wiping away tears)
It's my own special mix.

Kevin:
It's umm.... blueberries, vanilla extract, basil, salt, and uh...

Josh:
grain alcohol... and blended eel.

Kevin:
And Red 40. For color.

(beat)

CEO:
Well shit, you little fairies have sold me! We'll have a contract readied immediately.

Josh:
Actually, umm... you should know that there is one side-effect... ummm... It makes you gay.

Suit #1:
What? How? Like, after repeated use?

Kevin:
No. Just one sip. And you're gay.

Josh:
(somberly)
In. Yo. Face.

CEO:
Well then. Ahem. We will see you gentlemen tomorrow evening.

Josh and Kevin:
Oh, thank you so much.

They both kiss the CEO on the cheek as they leave. He is slightly flustered by this, but accepts it. He turns to the board.

Boss:
Well then, next order of business...
(He becomes extremely fey, lisp and all)
Is this, or is this not... the most fabulous pair of shoes you have ever seen?!

All of the executives stand and applaud, gayly. Fade to black.




- Scott (In. Yo. Face.) Clayton

The Great Breakfast Debate

In every vector of American life, the timeless argument continues...

We find our heroes at a booth in a true Americana diner.

"I'd go with the blonde," said Jack.
"Yeah, really that's interesting," said Brian sarcastically.
"Hey, what's the difference between pancakes and waffles?" Joe interjected.
There was a long pause...
"You're a stupid motherfucker, Joe," said Brian and we all shook our heads in a slushy mixture of disgust and agreement.
"No, I mean, besides the shape, it's the same fluffy batter shit, isn't it?"
"Although the brunette does dress better," Jack admitted.
"There is a difference..." I started.
"Does it really fuckin' matter?" interrupted Brian. He chose, at that moment, to emphasize his point by firing the spitball he had been moistening for the last few minutes directly at Joe. His saliva-soaked projectile, of course, missed its mark completely and stuck dutifully to the wall over Joe's right shoulder. Joe found this exchange reason enough to flip Brian not one, but two middle fingers.
"Oh, look at the legs on that new one," said Jack, as if the booth full of girls at the other end of the aisle were some sort of effeminate buffet. This new addition was, apparently, the prime rib.
"All right, I'll give you that one," agreed Brian.
"The point is, waffles are Belgian, pancakes are American," I said.
"I thought they were French, originally," said Joe.
"Fuck you," I decided.
"What's important is this: Pancakes ain't got no little fuckin' spots for syrup. Waffles are best." said Brian.
"True that," I agreed.
"Double true," finished Joe.
There was a long pause before Jack interrupted.
"Jesus Christ, look at the rack on that one."



Ah, another perfectly waged example of...

The Great Breakfast Debate.



- Scott Clayton
(The Waffle King hath returned)

Tonight, We Dine In Hell...

Firstly, let me just inform you that, upon the initial writings of this post, I just saw 300. And by just, I mean that approximately two hours ago I was watching King Leonidas slay the alleged "immortals" on a plain of dirt and blood. It was insanely good, ridiculously awesome, and utterly masculine. I really do have a bloodlust now. But while I was watching, and even now, I was struck by the ultimate badassness of a figure like Leonidas. Then, I realized that there are several things which specifically make someone like that so badass:

• The Apple - This was the first item I noticed. As Leonidas eats an apple after an extremely wicked battle, he spouts plenty of trash-talk. The apple is a symbol of carelessness and complete contempt for your opponent. "Look at me, I am so fuckin' bad that I am going to consume this piece of fruit right now, without worry." In settings outside of battle, the apple again makes you seem more hardcore, whatever you're doing. Discovering a new form of cold fusion? Eating an apple whilst explaining your invention makes you seem infinitely more badass. Interviewing a murder suspect? The apple strikes again, demonstrating a certain wantonness and ennui which just amplifies your badassness. I'm going to start carrying this extreme fruit wherever I go. I suggest you do the same.

• The Eye Scar - While battling a sort of Persian giant, Leonidas nearly loses his eye, resulting in an ultra-cool wound from his left brow, over his eye, and down to his left cheek. This only results in a magnification of his masculinity and ultimate attitude.

• Slow Motion - Everything is cooler in slow motion. I repeat, everything. Plus, destroying persons or things is possibly the greatest act that can happen in slow motion. This makes it indefinitely more badass than normal, which, we can say, is a substantial amount.

• Oration - It's truly the ability to deliver an inspiring/meaningful speech at just about any time that makes a man like that so cool. Oh, we have to face an army several hundred times larger than our own? That's no problem, because I can produce an engaging, thrilling oration on the spot. Death, honor, glory - all topics that should be covered. Get everybody fueled.

Now, take careful time to consider all of these things... then go out, and DESTROY!



- Scott Clayton (This is his profession.)

Truly We Are The Bearers Of Freedom

Just a few random (yet incredibly important) thoughts:

• You know that feeling you get when you finish a box of Kellogg's Frosted Mini Wheats and there's all that sugary, delicious debris at the bottom? And there's just about enough left for a bowl, but it's in the disintegrated, unusable form? How bad do you feel throwing out something so delicious, just because it's not whole anymore? Yeah, it's tough. We'll work through it together. You're welcome.

• We need to clone Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Single greatest president ever. He literally said, "Economic downturn? Fuck that!" He made that Great Depression his bitch. Not to mention the fact that he was just an all-around bad mothafucka. Bring him back to life, make him king of the world.

P.S. This is my greatest Paint masterpiece since the stingray. Click it for a heavy dose of Freedom. You're welcome.

• Good news, TAP lovers. Now you, too, can help to spread the good word of our greatness. possibly the greatest piece of clothing ever created, these high-quality shirts were created by myself. Not to mention the fact that they guarantee you insane amounts of ass. Really, it's astonishing, the level of women who will agree to have sex with you just because of this. However, if you are a woman who recognizes our greatness, please feel free to wear this. And then marry me. But anyway, you're welcome.

http://dyo.customink.com/cink/r.jsp?E=spartacus891%40yahoo.com&F=ta

• There are several new up-and-coming blogs I would like to cite as true Penguin-quality nighas. Firstly, B Park's Random Ramblings. This man is a scholar and a gentleman, however, he will not hesitate to fuck some mothafuckas up. Secondly, the new view that will revolutionize sports and possibly all of Canada, SportBanter. It's just "ballin'" Although I'm not really sure what that means. Then, I must recommend Application Scientific. These guys singlehandedly saved my laptop and sanity. Well done, men. Finally, a site for all the true Ninjas out there, BeatBoxGiant, home of "Ask A Ninja". If you don't love this, I will be forced to destroy you. You're welcome.

• Let me say this: TAP deserves some sort of award. Look at the treasures we have brought to you over the years. Honor us and you will be recognized. You're welcome.

- The Honorable Scott Clayton

Better Than The Truth, Yet Again...

Ladies and getlemen of the world, we here at The Angry Penguin are proud to bring you yet another year of chaos. As this November 19th was the second annual observance of the founding of TAP, we are exceptionally honored as you recognize our greatness with parades, parties, orgies, mass exoduses, pinatas, national holidays, riots, cupcakes, nudity, or the celebratory ritual of your choosing. Donations are welcome - money, watches, fine clothing or spices, gold bullion, girlfriends are all acceptable. Will may also be accepting human souls, check with him.


Oh, and for the record, you're welcome.


- Scott "The Legend Continues" Clayton

Prepare Yourselves, Humans!

Now, I did not want to be the one to say this, but the world as you know it is about to come to an end. That's right. And you all know me, and both Will and Brendan will attest to my sanity, so do not mark me as a maniac. I'm just giving you the first warning. "The first warning about what?", you ask? Well, just the impending doom of our race.

There is a new enemy out there, people. They've lain dormant for so long, we let our guards down, and now they're starting to attack. That's right. The Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin was the first. This man was almost second. These stingray accidents are not accidents at all, but the first wave of a larger attack. An attack on humanity, but more importantly, an attack on America. "But," you would say, "stingrays have no reason to attack America." And I shall say, "Oh, just the opposite." These are communist stingrays. They hate freedom. And they are willing to fight to the death. So prepare for battle, people. We're fighting for our survival here.

Studies show that communist stingrays are the leading cause of death in Australian wildlife documentarians and 81-year-old Floridian boaters this year. It's only a matter of time before they start targeting civilians. But fear not! I, your resourceful leader, have put together a short list of ways that you can help defend the human race.

• Know Thy Enemy:

While you may expect the stingrays to maintain their natural camouflage, I assure you they will not. Once they finish this first wave of guerrilla style attacks, they will break out the red. Communist are always showboats. Everyone knows it. And, furthermore, do not assume that these animals are dumb. They are clever, sly, smart little pricks. Never, not for one minute, start to think you can trust these communist stingrays.

• Be Prepared:

Remember, Americans, that you are the first line of defense against this vicious aquatic enemy. With that in mind, I want everyone to purchase at least one of these and one of these. It may be a bit unorthodox, but, trust me, it will come in handy. Now, we know that they like to go for the heart, so the vests should be able to protect us there. And the spearguns most certainly will come in to play. It is only a matter of time before these commies infiltrate and destroy a number of our dams, in addition to the polar ice caps, causing widespread flooding. That's when they bring the fight to us. And that's when we'll be armed.

• Offensive Maneuvers:

Everyone knows that the best defense is a good offense. We need to get out there and start taking out stingrays whenever possible. I want full-scale attacks. All dredges, fishing boats, oil tankers, jet-skis and banana boats are to be on patrol at all times. This is not the time to wait, this is a time for action. We can destroy these red bastards before they can even get near us.





Don't worry, people. We'll all be fine. Just as long as we are all prepared to do our part, sacrifice a little, and, above all, support our troops. Because they're fighting those communist stingrays for us, for America, and for freedom.



- Scott Clayton (knows what to do when he sees a communist stingray. )

Roll Call. Just Say "Here".

Alright kids, it's September, and we all know what that means - back to the the classroom. Now, being currently enrolled in high school, I have the opporunity to recognize daily the greatest weaknesses of the American education system. Namely, the teachers. That's right. It may surprise you, but teachers are actually the biggest detriment to modern learning. Whether you are a student now and/or have the cognitive capacity to recall your school experiences, I invite you to consider a number of examples:

• The Whack Job - This is the most obvious of all teacher profiles. This person has trouble with basic day-to-day classroom functions. They also seem to think they do a superb job of teaching, although most students cease to respect them as a human being. Often, their entire class period consists of trying to turn on a simple projector, computer, or light switch. This teacher may or may not suffer from some insane mental condition, which causes them to change temper every 6.4 seconds. Mostly harmless, unless they begin throwing office supplies.
  

• The Sarcastic Douche - This profile is also very easily indentifiable. Often, when leaving this teacher's class, one student will turn to the other and say, "That guy is a really big douche." This teacher hates the world (and themself) and tries to take it out on everyone they can. They usually try to cover this douchery with lame sarcasm. This sarcasm is almost always unfunny, and usually disgraceful. Sometimes, they have an asinine catchphrase or quote which they repeat incessantly, causing widespread hatred. It is possible to have a number of teachers fitting this profile, in which case, to reduce stress, students should have a "douche-off" to see which educator is, in fact, the douchiest.

• The Icon - This profile, unlike the others, is actually a positive one. This teacher is so well-respected that they become a sort of legend in the school. Often, this iconic status will manifest itself in daily claims of outlandish superiority. (ie. omipotence, omniscience) The instructor will be beloved and exalted. Utimately, however, they will meet their match in Neil Begley.

• The Mistake/The Pushover - This teacher should never have become a teacher. This is the kind of person who should be alphabetizing shelves in a Piggly Wiggly or crocheting monogrammed potholders for a living. This teacher comletely lacks the ability to control and organize a classroom environment. The class is often run by the students, who refuse to listen to anything the alleged teacher says. Often, this results in a sort of free-for-all which is very enjoyable for all students. This person should be fired immediately.

• The Relic - This teacher has been educating students for close to 100 years, and is most assuredly boring as hell. The class seems to last forever, due to the complete lethargy induced by the sight of this teacher's ancient form. It is quite possible that this instructor taught your parents, your grandparents, perhaps even Jesus Christ himself. This person usually maintains the ability to teach, but in exchange, usually lacks the ability to walk, converse, or form coherent sentences. This teacher is the single most convincing argument for euthanasia.

Now these sorts of teachers can be seen throughout establishments of education nationwide. And, pending further debate, I propose my own solution: dissolve all modern schooling. That's right. If student's don't have to learn, then people can't fuck up their teaching. That's just pure logic. You know, you could learn a thing or two from me.



- Prof. Scott Clayton, DAP