Saturday, September 10, 2011


Episode Four

In the sleepy town of Meryton, a suburb of the great throbbing metropolis that is known as London, live several families.

This is their story.

Meryton MemorialHospital

(The new and vastly improved Dr. George Wickham)

Nurse Baker:  Dr. Wickham, you look…so different…so un-English…so Buenos Aires-ish.  And oh my.  Is that a polo mallet in your pocket or are you happy to see me?

Lucy Parker-Bowles – Back off Blowfish.  Wicky is here only temporarily - on loan you might say.

Nurse Baker:  The name is Baker.  Baker, all right.  Not Blowfish.  And who are you when you’re at home and not munching on those dead mice you have in your hand?

Lucy Parker-Bowles – Me?  Why I am Wicky’s body guard and ball washer.  Hey!  Let me slap that smirk right off your face, Brunhilde – he plays Polo for Nosferatu United.  And Mistress Bingley has a vested interest in our Wicky boy; he’s her favorite thing for lunch – especially his neck.  I’m along to make certain you oversexed women of Meryton don’t take advantage of him while he collects his things.  Jeez.  Get your hands out of his pockets Butt-face.

Nurse Baker:  IT’S BAKER, OK!  BAKER!  Besides, I always count Wicky’s change for him.  And then we have a cigarette.  You don’t mind, do you Wicky.  Good boy. Such a cutie, such a big boy, cuchie, cuchie - fetch.

Lucy Parker-Bowles – Not tonight Busty Barb.  We are meeting someone named Emma Woodhouse and Mistress Bingley will then begin her long awaited revenge on Meryton as Wickham begins his long conquest – one pathetic, wimpy, proper Jane Austen heroine at a time, starting with the plain, ghastley, useless and highly suitable Elinor Dashwood.  Mistress Bingley will be very proud of us and the amount of retribution we can squeeze into the next four hours - and then we’ll hit the Matlock IHOP, that good for you Wicky?  Great give me five.  No five.  What comes after four...? Just puzzle it out for a moment, Wicky - I'll get back to you.  But first, just to take the edge off, I think I WILL let Wicky take a little sip from you, Beavis.  Yeah, I think that will help him get his ‘blood’ o-meter moving.  Wicky – tear her up!

The Home of Elinor Dashwood and her aged Mother, Butterfly McDashwood, or as she was know in the ‘theater’ – Blase the Bombshell Dashwood

Elinor Dashwood:  Mother, if I should receive a call from Miss Emma Woodhouse I would like you to lie through your teeth for me, say I’m not in.  All right.

Blaze the Bombshell Dashwood:  Certainly dearest child.  I do adore lying, it’s so like the theater, especially if you pay me to do it.  I could take off my clothes too.

Elinor Dashwood:  Or.. I could simply poison your food.

Blase the Bombshell Dashwood:  Yes, I remember your father’s death very well.  There is that.  I should never have sold that restaurant of mine.  Oh well.  Or… I could recall that you’ve suddenly returned from wherever it is you’ve supposedly gone to when Miss Woodhouse calls. 

Elinor Dashwood:  Will you take a checque?

Blase the Bomshell Dashwood:  Sweetling, I would take bottlecaps if I thought I could annoy you.  Now why ever do you want to avoid the incredibly pompous Miss Woodhouse?  Has she scraped together yet another suitor for you?  Possibly a blind man who’s been in some sort of disfiguring carriage accident that resulted in such vile and revolting scarring that he has been reduced to accepting assignations with pathetically plain and boring middle aged spinsters.

Elinor Dashwood:  Just like daddy.

Blase the Bombshell Dashwood:  You are too, too, funny dear.  I think I’ll stand outside and disrobe when the Reverend Collins limps past.  Will you play the drums for me dear?

Elinor Dashwood:  Mother, I can still have you committed.  Actually, I believe Emma has selected someone quite handsome for me.  Handsome and humorous, intelligent, well spoken and impeccably dressed.

Blase the Bomshell Dashwood:  Ah.  He’s gay then.

Elinor Dashwood:  No, he's a Gynecologist.

Blase the Bombshell Dashwood:  Same thing.

Tune in next week.  Will Elinor succumb to Wicky’s intense beauty? Will Butt Face Barbara rise up as yet another vampire to attack the Jane Austen men? Will Reverend Collins stop peaking into the window chanting “boom chicky boom boom” every time Blase the Bombshell removes her chemise.  Will Lucy Parker sue me for defamation of character?  Which other of the people who leave comments (any comments) appear in this ridiculous nonsense?

Who is next on the Jane Austen hit list? Tune in next week.


LucyParker said...

Where does one begin? Elinor is quite the supermodel, but can't possibly be outdone by her mama. Mama should change her name to Glaze to account for the glinty crack whore look in her eyes.

I'm howling at Lucy Parker-Bowles!!! One correction, tho. I believe she washes Wicky's balls, rather than fetches them. He keeps his balls with him, right next to his mallet.

Why doesn't my hiney-cologist look like Dr. W??

Karen Wasylowski said...

I shall make the correction, Lady Parker-Bowles