Bagel Deficit Disorder

Act One: The Olympian Eit!

Gilliganny

to the tune of "Gilligan's Theme"

Just sit right back and you'll watch a Crock,

A Crock with a dreadful plot,

We started out with last year's jokes,

Last night at three o'clock.

The writer's block soon hit us all,

Our songs we did exhaust,

If not for the miracle of crock-fill-mode,

The Crock, it would be lost!

The stage is a dirty living room,

The freshman are all bored,

The scenery's a potted plant,

It's all we could afford.

The time is set on a Sunday night,

About six weeks ago,

At the Bagelympic games

In eastern Idaho,

In eastern Idaho.

As the games got under way,

TEP's mighty team was there,

With Cy Culling,

and Jim Nast too,

Some underware,

Angst and strife,

Sarah Moany.

So just pretend, the TEPs are jocks!

(And) let's start Tee Eee Phi's crock!

Scene 1: At the Olympics

Bob: We now return you to five more hours of Olympic coverage here on NBC!

John: That's right, Bob! After seven continuous weeks of broadcasting from eastern Idaho, we're still not finished irritating viewers with our jingoistic sports coverage—and Bob, you're still staring into the camera with that same rapt look.

Bob: That's because I have inattention deficit disorder. I have to say, John, that we're a little short of footage today, as we've already broadcast every single minute of quality material taped by NBC Sports.

John: Since when has that stopped us?

Bob: Especially when we have wealthy sponsors who will pay us to cover an obscure sport which furthers the sponsor's own financial interests.

John: Bob! I'm shocked that you would admit that! It's not like Nike or Reebok have anything to gain from advertising in sporting events!

Bob: Uh..uh...of course, the sponsors only want to promote the Olympic Spirit!

John: That's why all this week we are bringing you the Bagelympics—the 22 Olympic sports which involve bagels—interspersed with a huge number of advertisments from TeppBuck's Bagel Bakery.

Bob: Today, we'll focus on the geographically challenged, meta-orthodox hypo-liberatarian micro-nation-state of GREATER TEPISTAN, found on Commonwealth Avenue

John: ...Boston's Champs Elysee!

Bob: The athletes of Greater Tepistan face an incredibly difficult task in coming to the Olympics. Not only do they have to suffer through four years of mental anguish and torture at MIT, but in order to prepare for the Bagelympics, they had to get up before 10:00 am twice a week.

John: I tell you, that's dedication.

Bob: Let's go up close and personal with the heroic athletes of Greater Tepistan.

Scene 2: At TEP

Enter TEPs

Tepistan

to ‘America’ from ‘West Side Story’

Music by Leonard Bernstein

Words by Stephen Sondheim

(2 vamps)

I like to be here in Tepistan

Okay by me here in Tepistan

Plenty to see here in Tepistan

Come to see me here in Tepistan^[2]

I think I’ll go clean the bathroom

Hope that we see you alive soon

I think I’ve got an enlarged spleen

Pat it back down with some Brylcream

We stay up late here in Tepistan

We never date here in Tepistan

Life will frustrate here in Tepistan

We mastur [ahem] here in Tepistan

Thesis advisor’s a real freak

Haven’t seen daylight since last week

Maybe I’ll change to a 6-3

Or imitate Ted Kaczinsky

Social life tame here in Tepistan

Brothers are lame here in Tepistan

Everyone flame here in Tepistan

I’m not to blame here in Tepistan

Living with Noise Bitch is no breeze

Calls and complains over one sneeze

Hates when our steps are an odd shade

Buy her a dog so she’ll get laid

Brothers play Doom here in Tepistan

Workstations zoom here in Tepistan

RSI looms here in Tepistan

Can’t use a broom here in Tepistan

We often Eit here in Tepistan

Messy food fight here in Tepistan

Tooling all night here in Tepistan

Jokes that are trite here in Tepistan

Sarah: Man, our chances of winning any gold medals at these Bagelympics are dropping like our GPAs!

Cy: We have real contention deficit disorder.

Jim: What about our Rhythmic Bagel slicing crew?

Bird: They got cut.

Cy: Our High Speed Browning Squad?

Bird: They were toasted.

Jim: Our Bagel Buffing Team?

Bird: They've been polished off.

Sarah: Boy, we really need some talent to save the Tepistani Bagelympics team.

Jim: Who says?

Cy: SES-A-ME! MadagasGAR LIC'ed our butt last time. I'm ready to try bribing the judges with my body.

Jim: Don't CINNA-MON—RAISIN our team spirit will help us win!

Sarah: Who's the POPPYular favorite in the Bagel Put?

Bird: Paul B-ONION—from WinnepEGG.

Cy: Isn't he kind of PLAIN?

Sarah Money: No, he just has ostentation deficit disorder.

Cy: Is that CALIFORNIA HEALTH nut still going to anchor our Beach Bagelball team?

Jim: She found a big ore deposit in her yard and she wants to PUMPERNICKEL reserves. Since our teams' no longer WHOLE—WHEAT better find someone else.

Sarah: Is the Basketbagel team getting any BUTTER? Did we MAR BELgrade's chances for a medal?

Bird: Oh, our so-called CREAM team? They were asSALTed by the HERBo-Croatians, 99-0.

Sarah: RYE's that?

Bird: They couldn't get into the gym; someone changed the LOX.

doorbell rings

Jim: Hey, I hear a KNOCK at the door

Sarah: No, that's the doorbell.

Cy: Well, put it on the door.

knock on the door

F1: Hey, let us in or we'll throw this dumbell through your doorbell

Sarah: I know! It's a JOCK at the door

Cy: Wait a minute! It's Rush week! The freshmen must be coming!

All: (tired) No, they're just breathing hard.

Sarah: Why do we keep using that HORRIBLE joke?

Cy: I think we have invention deficit disorder.

Jim: Maybe we can find some freshmen to join our olympic team!

Enter the freshmen Arch Uri and Paul Vault

Bananas

To the tune of Bonanza

Welcome to TEP where we like to schlep Grape Soder

Welcome to TEP it's frosty and wet and it's caffeine-free!

Jim What's your name?

Cy Where you from?

Sarah What'd ya like to be?

Welcome to TEP where the floors are swept BiMonthly

Welcome to TEP where the Crock's ineptly rhymed.

Cy: Welcome to TEP. I'm Cy Culling, Chancellor of TEP. Have a Grape Soder!

Jim: I'm Jim Nast, The Rush Chairman. Damgladdameetcha.

Paul Vault: I'm Paul Vault, from the North Pole.

Jim: What state is that in?

Paul Vault: (Sighs and looks exasperated) Frozen.

Arch Uri: I'm Arch Uri, from Luxe, Belgium.

Cy: Arch...de Luxe?

Sarah: I feel like I just took out a second mortgage on my soul...

Bird: So, would you like to join our Bagelympics team?

Paul Vault: TEP has its own Olympic team?

Cy: Sure! We're not just TEP; we're the geographically challanged, meta-orthodox hypo-liberatarian micro-nation-state of Greater Tepistan.

Jim: We were founded in 1922 by...

Sarah: ...and are still under the iron fist of...

Jim: ...our benevolent dictator, the steroidally enhanced and genetically ageless Irving Q. Tepp, founder of the giant communications monopoly Tepophone, and the rapidly expanding TeppBuck's Bagel Bakery chain.

Paul Vault: Do you like living in Tepistan?

Jim: I'd have to say yes...after all, I've got dissention deficit disorder!

Arch Uri: How are your relations with Mary Anne Castellovichova, chair of the neighboring Autocratic Republic of BackBaynia?

Bird: Not so hot...certainly not as hot as...as...

Cy: Lava?

Bird: No, that's the hot new development platform on the World Wide Waste.

Cy: Did Ayn Rand design that?

Bird: No...why do you ask?

Cy: I heard it was designed for objectivist-oriented programming.

Sarah: We need to cast this Crock in concrete, toss it in the Charles, and collect the insurance.

Arch Uri: What's it worth?

Sarah: A lot less than the concrete.

Paul Vault: Well, I for one would love to be on the Greater Tepistan olympic team. However, I have no athletic skills, and little to offer beyond my desire to work hard and the clear-eyed, untempered enthusiasm of an MIT freshman

Cy: That's OK...a few weeks at the Institute will change that!

Paul Vault: My lack of skills?

Sarah: No...your attitude.

Scene 3: Back At NBC

Cut back to Bob Hostas

Bob: Things are not looking good for the Greater Tepistan team here.

John: Well, TEP's atheletic skills are both evident and lacking. So far, the Greater Tepistan team has garnered just two medals: a linoleum medal in Food Throwing and a simulated walnut-grain finish medal in Distinguishing Road Maps from Interstate Highways at an Extreme Distance. However, hopes are high in some of the remaining events...

Bob: Such as?

John: Well, they've always been a powerful contender in Mold and Mildew Dressage, and in the Positronic Slurry Toss.

Bob: The WHAT?

John: In this event, contestants hurl balls of anti-matter at one another. It's a demonstration sport this year, but it's sure to make a big impact on the Olympic scene.

Bob: Let's go to Centennial Olympic Park see how the Teps are preparing for this event.

Antimatter Patter

To the tune of the Matter-Patter

from Guilbert & Sullivan's Ruddigore.

[Coach]

A fencer moves his epee with the speed of liquid lightning

and a boxer loses brain cells at a rate that's truly frightning

While a runner's feet will wear out after running fifty courses

and that drowning is a danger for the water polo horses

but while these may cause a shudder

in a man of any station

Just one positronic accident

can cause annihilation

and unlike throwing javlin, hammer, shot or discus platter

This stuff's awfully hard to handle 'cause it really isn't matter

[Athlete 1: No it really isn't matter matter matter matter matter matter]

[Athlete 2: No it really isn't matter matter...]

[Athlete 1]

It's not that I'm afraid of any quantum reprocussion

For my team I'm quite prepared to die without a long discussion

But severity of consequence provokes me to prevention

catching positrons is not a sport where one should loose attention

Though I try to keep my head clear

I am sure that one would wager

That a person could go loony

when subjected to this danger

and it's hard to play your best when you're as mad as any hatter

Cause you can't afford to drop a thing that really isn't matter

[Coach: when it really isn't matter matter matter matter matter matter]

[Athlete 2: when it really isn't matter matter...]

[Athlete 2, or coach again if we're short singers]

You know you can't contain it with electrostatic bottles

But a penning trap will do it with the right computer models

and the vacume should be perfect as a pincer in rotation

For a tiny grain of dust explodes in gama-radiation

I would give you more instruction

But my lines now start to peter

and it's hard to find a warning

that still fits into the meter

It's a cinch that all the freshmen will have never heard this patter

at the quality we sing you know it really doesn't matter

[Coach: No it really doesn't matter matter matter matter matter matter

[Athlete 1: No it really doesn't matter matter...]

All: It's a cinch that all the freshmen will have never heard this patter

at the quality we sing you know it really doesn't matter

Bob: Well, perhaps it would be safer if we didn't wait to see how this event turns out.

John: Let's cut to Greco-Roman Bagel Eiting, which is underway now at the Redneck bowl. Well, actually, it ended hours ago, but you don't know that, so we'll just pretend our coverage is live.

Scene 4: Down at the Redneck Bowl

Bob: For our listeners at home, John, maybe we should give some background on the basics of Greco-Roman eiting.

John: The sport of Greco-Roman eiting has come a long way from its beginnings in ancient Greece—did you know "eit" is Greek for "never having to say you're sorry?"

Bob: I had absolutely no idea; like Jack Kemp, I majored in Physical Education. But if that's what eit means, let me say that I hate working with you more than anyone else in the studio. Eit! (crosses arms and looks smug.)

John: Aren't you a fast learner. The eit consists of four parts: the "Slap", the "Hurl" the "Call" and, of course, sticking the landing.

Bob: Here come our competitors now.

John: On the right, we have the underdog team from Greater Tepistan. On the left, the powerful Disunified Team.

Eitovitch: We are pleased to meet you, our competitors, in the Bagelympic spirit. Although we desire little other than to plaster your reputation into the floor along with your eited bagel, we harbor no ill will towards you.

Jim: We are also pleased to meet you, our competitors, in the Bagelympic spirit. Although we desire little other than to grind your pustulant face into the floor along with the dismembered carcasses of your loveable furry pets, we also harbor no ill will towards you.

John: As you can see, eiting is a very polite sport.

Bob: Ok, now we see them carefully circling; the "eitee" of TEP is trying to protect his bagel from the stunning speed of the Disunified master eiter, Vladimir Knockitov.

John: Vladimir is moving fast...AND HE STRIKES!

Knockitov: EIT!

John: Looks like a 3 1/2 somersault with a double back twist!

Bob: Wow! He really stuck that landing!

John: It's always beautiful to watch Knockitov in action, Bob...he's really gets some air on those eits.

Bob: And look how he keeps his toes together.

Eitovitch: Bwah hah hah! We think you must have prehension deficit disorder!

Knockitov: SMESHNO!

ALL: XA! XA! XA!

Bob: Wait! here come the TEPs!

Sarah: EIT, tu, Bruté!

John: It looks like Knockitoff's partner, Ivan Eitovich was a little overconfident there, Bob; he'd covered the top of his bagel with expensive Beluga caviar, and now he's got egg on his face!

Bob: And the landing...disappointing. John, as much as I hate to say it—since NBC always roots for the home team—the TEPs just didn't stick that landing. Incredibly, the bagel landed cream-cheese side up, and rolled across the floor of the Redneck Dome.

John: That was certainly terrible luck for the TEPs—in all my many years of covering this sport, I don't know if I've ever seen a bagel land cream cheese side up.

Bob: John, it's clear you're just flaming out your butt, since you've never seen this event before in your life, but I have to admit you read those cue cards well.

points to the cue card in the back of the room, which has this line on it exactly.

John: (looking through the Kirby Kloset) Actually I can't read; I just repeat what the little voices in my head say to me. (blinks, looks back at audience) The judges scores are in!

Bob: 9.3 for the Disunified team, and a disappointing 8.8 for the Greater Tepistan team, after the mandatory half-point deduction.

John: Wait! One of the floor judges has questioned the validity of the Disunified bagel!

Bob: Looks like they were using some performance enhancing cream cheese there, John!

John: That's not too suprising, Bob. Given the ratings that we've guaranteed our advertisers, we wouldn't have shown this event if the Tepistanis didn't win gold.

Bob: I've got the judges' official ruling here. Apparently the Disunified Team secretly replaced Tepistani Cream Cheese with Marshmallow Fluff, a high strength Industrial Adhesive. The Disunified Team is Disqualified; the Tepistanis Triumphant.

John: (to TEPs) So, how does it feel to win the gold medal in Greco-Roman Eiting?

Jim: Well, like, first ya know we, like, got eited pretty bad. But then they were, like ya know, bogus, and they got dissed. cool, huh?

John: Wow, that is a remarkably articulate statement! I am sure major celebrity endorsements are headed your way!

Bob: Tell us, how did you get so good at eiting?

Don't You Eit Me

to "Don't You Want Me" by the Human League

Divide into two groups for singing: OLD and NEW

OLD You were just a tooling freshman here at old Tee-Eee-Phi,

OLD When I met you.

OLD I woke you up, I flamed at you, I broke all your stuff,

OLD I guess I acted kinda rude.

OLD NOW it's two years later and you Eit me with grace,

OLD It's all been too easy for you.

OLD But don't forget it's me who put you there in your place,

OLD And I know that I can still Eit you.

NEW Don't, don't you eit me

NEW You know I don't believe you when you say the need's genetic.

NEW Don't, don't you eit me

NEW You know that I will kill you if my bagel goes kinetic.

OLD (I) know you think its crude

OLD (But) it isn't really rude

OLD As long as you say "eit" that makes it all so funny.

BOTH Don't you eit me, baby; don't you eit me, Ooh

NEW I came to TEP with just a bit of naiveté,

NEW That much is true.

NEW But even then I knew I had to learn to strike back,

NEW To keep on living here with you.

NEW The two years that we've had you've taught me all that you know;

NEW I learn'd from you.

NEW But now I think I have to go and eit on my own,

NEW I know its just what I must do.

OLD Don't, don't you eit me,

OLD You think that you are funny but you're noxious, crude and brazen.

OLD Don't, don't you eit me,

OLD How could you be so stupid that you thought it was a raisin.

BOTH But that's all in the past,

BOTH We're gonna kick some ass,

BOTH Now that we're together...light the world on fire.

BOTH Don't you eit me, baby; don't you eit me, Ooh.

Bob: Well, instead of actually showing you the medal ceremony live, which is against NBC's policy, let's cut to the action that was taking place outside the competition hall.

John: Why isn't Tom Brockaw covering this newsworthy event?

Bob: He's in Chicago trying to shake off his convention deficit disorder.

John: Here now outside the Redneck Dome, we have a large group representing the Bagel Liberation Organization — protesting what they consider to be the abuses of innocent bagels happeing within this stadium.

Joe BLO: We, the BLO, believe that small, cute bagels are being cruelly abused in this so-called sport ... which is actually nothing but an excuse for steroidally enhanced numbskulls to mercilessly bludgeon and dismember helpless baked goods.

Dumb BLO: The BLO is dedicated to the freedom of bagels. Bagels are people, too. They deserve the same rights we all enjoy, like the right not to be sliced in half and slathered with partially hydrogenated high-cholesteral whipped oil spreads!

Joe BLO: We believe all bagels should be free-range bagels, allowed to roll where they please. They should not be cruelly confined in toasters designed for normal bread.

Dumb BLO: And they should not be fed hormones and antibiotics, resulting in "Frankenbagels!"

Joe BLO: We have evidence that Mary Kay Cosmetics tests new and dangerous chemicals on innocent, white fluffy bagels.

Holds up bagle, made up with lipstick and eyeshadow

Dumb BLO: The proletariate must be made clear of the dialectical-materialist movement of baked-good cognition...

ALL: Did you say, "tuition?"

Dumb BLO: NO!

John: Well, enough of that extremist claptrap ... Let's go back to the Gold Medal Ceremony...but first, a few thousand words from Our Sponsors.

Doors close, CAREFULLY!

Announcer: Ever feel like no one pays attention to you? Like no one listens to what you say? Here at Tep-o-phone, we secretly monitor all phone conversations and use advanced digital technology to record only the embarressing things that you say. Never say no one listens to you. Tep-o-phone, the scary company.

Act Two: The TEPs Are Themselves Eited

Scene 1: IQT’s "Death"

The doors open revealing the scene of Bagelympics gold medal ceramonies. The three TEPs are on the stage having received their medals (painted bagels).

MC: (to the audience) Please rise for the national anthem of the geographically challanged, meta-orthodox hypo-liberatarian micro-nation-state of GREATER TEPISTAN.

Abbreviated "Ein Fiesty burg", piano-only.

Bob: Now Irving Q. Tepp, The Iron Fisted Benevolent Dictator of Tepistan, is coming out to offer a cerimonial toast with his world famous and ever-present Bouncer.

John: (you know the emphasis...) (No, not that!) Bouncer?

Bob: You know, the virtually indestructable polycarbonate drinking vessel famed for its resistance to all corrosive beverages.

John: Hey, what's in that thing?

Bob: Irving's own blend of ultra-concentrated caffeine-enhanced coffee. Stand back––if you get a good whiff of it you'll be on the floor of the ambulance twitching like the energizer bunny doing the 60 Hertz Shuffle. Irving's system is so wired that he must maintain his Blood Caffeine Content at 22% or he'll shut down like a Chrysler Factory.

John: That's a lot of Caffeine Bob.

Caffeine

to the tune of "Cocaine"

Statrs slow speeds up.

When you're feelin' down

Down on the ground

Caffeine

When you've been up all night

and there's no end in sight

Caffeine

When you're lyin' in bed

And your eyes have turned red

Caffeine

Maxwell House, Taster's Choice, Nescafe,

Caffeine

When you're out on the floor

And you need to tool more

Caffeine

When finals are nigh

are you just wanna die

Caffeine

When you're goin' berserk

'cause you got too much work

Caffeine

Fill it up, drink it down, double strength

Caffeine

IQT walks out in front of the stage to congratulate the TEPS, raised bouncer of coffee in hand

Joe BLO: We’ve secretly replaced Irving's fine, high quality, brew with Folger’s instant anticaffeinated coffee crystals. Let’s see if he notices.

Dumb BLO: Before it's too late.

BLO both: Bwa ha ha ha ha ha

IQT raises glass in toast, downs the whole damn thing, then yawns

Jim: (to Cy) I can't belive he drained the whole thing!

IQT: Friends, Honigs countrymen, lend me your Ears (yawn). I have the great pleasure and dubious distintiction, like bituminous coal^[3]...(yawns again, then drops over, presumably dead)

Sarah: That was more boring than usual, although really quite a short speech.

Jim: You Oaf, he’s Fallen!

All: And he can't get up!

Cy: He's got ascension deficit disorder!

Joe BLO: heh heh heh Excuse us, we’re the Official Olympic Medical Emergency Response Team (starts to drag off IQT)

Bird: Where are you taking him?

BLO 2: To the Hospital.

BLO 1: Or the Morgue.

BLO 2: Whatever. Heh heh heh.

Jim: But it was such a beautiful TOAST, BRAISING our skill and effort.

Cy: Perhaps it was the SIMMER heat, he should’ve SEERed clear of the noonday sun.

Arch: It’s SCALD right, he probably just fainted when he saw the line of tall, blonde women over there.

Jim: You mean the BARBIE QUEUE? I SAU TAED Kennedy, our eSTEAMed senatah, with them earilier.

Paul: Getting emBROILED in another scandle?

Sarah: Yep, he’s in DEEP, FRYING in the face of CONVECTION.

Bird: When GRILL he ever learn? You'd think after the time he WOK up with JULI ENNE the front room he'd stop doing that.

Cy: How can you be so gROAS, Talking about Ted when AU GRAT IN wondahful leadah is sick or maybe even dead.

Jim: BOY I’LL be sad if he’s dead. Why, it seems like just yestarday he and BLANCHE were sitting on the BAKE POACH telling us war stories about the COUP KING of Africa.

BLOs Return

Cy: How is he?

Joe BLO: WELL, DONE.

Jim: Can we talk with him?

Dumb BLO: If you want to talk to him you’ll need a MEDIUM. Heh heh heh.

Sarah: So... He’s dead?!

Joe BLO: (to audience) Now there’s a RARE genius.

Dumb BLO: Yup, he's dead, so we creamated him . Here is a will we found in his pocket (hands paper to Cy), and his remains (a lump of bituminous coal), sign here please, thank you. Have a nice day.

Joe BLO: Tar Tar for now.

Arch: But, who would want to kill a TEP?

Sarah: Who wouldn't want to kill a TEP?

Cy: Who would want to kill just one?

All: No one can kill just one!

Both BLOs: Bwa ha ha ha (walk off stage)

Scene 2: Back in the House

Cy: We should have a moment of silence for our dearly departed benevolent dictator.

Jim: reads the will to himself, lips moving, eyes bulging

Pause, then Jeopardy theme

Jim: Time’s Up. Let’s read the will and see how our contestants did. The Answer is: The TEP Boys.

Bird: Who got the signed first edition of Felch Comix?

Jim: No, that's Tipper Gore.

Sarah: Who got the Elvis Bust?

Jim: No, The Smithsonian.

Cy: Who got the Electric Sheep?

Jim: The Bob Dole Committee.

Sarah: What're they going to do with a an Electric Sheep?

plant in Audience: Bahahahahb!

another plant: Two Legs Good, Four Legs Better! Two Legs Good, Four Legs Better!

Cy: OK, OK, who got the Ginormas Irving Fortune?

Jim: Nope, that goes to the Bagel Liberation Organisation. I'm sorry, the correct question to the answer "The TEP Boys" is: Who got Jack Shit?

General astonishment

Paul: Bummer, dude.

Jim: It's worse than that, guys, here's what the will says:

Ein Fisting Berg softly in background, miskey at appropriate places in speech

IQT: I, Irving Q. Tepp, being of Sound Mind and Body, have realized only at the dusk of my misspent life my heinous trangressions against Bageldom. Never again shall I microwave frozen bagels, nor shall I spill their crumbs into the genuine partially hydrogeneated whipped oil spread. To make amends I hereby bequeth The Vast Irving Fortune to the Bagel Liberation Organisation, the property at 253 Commonwealth Avenue to Marian Castilani, the...

Jim: (to IQT) Yeah, yeah, yeah. Skip to what the TEPs get.

IQT: Humph. (goes through several pages) da dida dida (gets to last page) And to the Brothers of TEP, I leave Jack Shit. EIF! (exit)

All: EIF?

Sarah: What’s EIF?

Cy: Hmmm, there’s something strange about this will.

Bird: Irving's Dead, his fortune's gone, we've been cut out of the will, our house is owned by Noise Bitch, and we still have to pay our tuition.

Paul: Isn't there a song about that?

All: No!

Arch: What are we going to do?

Cy: I don't know...I have intention deficit disorder!

Sarah: It couldn't get any worse than this.

Jim: Yes, it could; it could be much worse...

It Could Be Much Worse

to the tune of ‘It’s all for the Best’ in Godspell

Bradley When you feel dumb

and know you can't pass

your brain's gone numb

you've dropped your last class

your prof's berating, stating

there's no chance of graduating

physics you're cramming and

Newton your damning and

MIT's ramming your ass

your sex life ain't great

at best it is calm

your last hot date

was with your right palm

well don't forget that

though you think your

life's under a curse

Yes! It could be much worse...

Bird you could be bit by rabid fleas

lopped off at the knees

get a gross disease in your tummy

bumped upside the head

jumped on ‘till you’re dead

shot all full of lead by a dean

eat worms until you're sick

turtle-wax your dick

have a seat & stick where it's gummy

get slapped by a haddock

and stabbed through the spleen

you could have bunions on your feet

warts upon your seat

be the G.M. fleet crash-test dummy

get hit by a tree

get splenectomied

go and take a pee with Chuck Vest

get reamed by your landlord

and hung with a lamp cord

though terse, it could be much worse...

repeat both together

Yes! It could be much —

Brad: get carted off inside a hearse

Yes! It could be much —

Bird: have to sing this unrehearsed

Yes! It could be much —

Both: there could be another verse!

Yes! It could be much worse!

Scene 3: Enter the FBI

FBI1 and FBI 2 burst onto the stage

FBI1: FBI CIA IRS and BATF, Freeze!

Dragnet vamp

Cy: That's 4 agencies and only two agents.

FBI2: Downsizing. Now, down on the floor.

TEPs: huh what?

FBI2: Whaddayou think we have, apprehension deficit disorder? Narcolepsy you fools!

TEPs: oh! (all fall to the floor, lie unmoving)

FBI1: You are all under arrest, you have the right to remain silent, you do not have the right to tell 22 year old jokes. Any pun you say will be used against you. You can have an attorny present during questioning, but we’ll still kick your butts. And, since you can not afford an attorney, you’re screwed. Now get up!

Cy: But, what’d we do?

FBI2: You killed Irving Q. Tepp.

Jim: That’s crazy, that’s stupid, why would we do something like that?

FBI1: Most criminals are both crazy and stupid. And you fit the pyschological profile perfectly.

Paul: Fit perfectly?! What about our dimension deficit disorder!?

FBI2: You strengthen our case every time you open your sorry mouths!

Sarah: But we didn’t even get anything from the will.

FBI2: That’s because YOU are stupid. Criminals are stupid, and therefore YOU are Criminals. (crosses arms, looks smug)

Bird: Hey, didn't you say you're with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms?

FBI2: Yes. Why?

Jim: You folks must throw great parties..

FBI2: No, that's the DEA.

FBI1: Get moving geek boys.

FBIs lead TEPs off stage in general consternation, stand up and file off stage in a single file

Scene 4: Irving Q. Tepp is Tortured.

FBI and TEP exit, BLO enter with IQT

Dumb BLO: You probably are wondering why we have faked your death and brought you here.

IQT: Well, since you don't look like Jehovah's Witnesses, I was kind of wondering who you are.

Joe BLO: We are the BLO, the Bagel Liberation Organisation.

Smells like Free Bagels.

to the tune of Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana

Starring Hello, Kitty!

For chewy crust, they're boiled, then baked

Not like a bread, not like a cake

So round without, so round within

A new-baked bagel's free of sin

A hole, a hole, a hole, a hole

A hole, a hole, a hole, a hole...

Chorus: No more toasters, no more freezers

Let them go now

Free the bagels

Without cream cheese they are so pleased

Let them go now

Free the bagels

Bagels have souls

In their ho-oles

That you sto-ole

Let them go-o

End Chorus: Yeah!

A bagel's not a thing to eat

Just like a bunny isn't meat

So innocent, so full of life

We have no right to toast or slice

A hole, a hole, a hole, a hole

A hole, a hole, a hole, a hole...

(Chorus)

Your choice while coffee percolates

Is easy: kill, or liberate

Free any bagels that you find

Remember, breakfast should be kind

A hole, a hole, a hole, a hole

A hole, a hole, a hole, a hole...

(Chorus)

Joe BLO: We are dedicated to the freedom of bagels everywhere. We strive to end the torture of bagels at the hands of heartless capitalist pig-dog bagel biters like yourself.

IQT: I take it you're the ones who've been sending me those Dr. Kevorkian Gift Certificates...

Dumb BLO: We dream of a better world. Where free-rolling bagels roam in fulfilled contentment through the shining streets of an independent bagel homeland.

Joe BLO: What do you have to say for yourself, now that your nature as an oppressor has been made clear?

IQT: We white males have been aware of our status as oppressors for some time now, thank you.

Joe BLO: You have, have you? Well, are you familiar with “Report from Iron-Deficiency Mountain?” The doings of the Quadrilateral Commision? The Jewish-Catholic-Mormon Conspiracy?

Dumb BLO: (to Joe BLO) The Jewish-Catholic-Mormon Conspiracy?

Joe BLO: (to Dumb BLO) Ever compared matzoh, communion wafers, and Mormon missionaries? They’re all white bread.

IQT: You guys really are half baked.

Joe BLO: Scoffing Heritic! Pay Attention (Barks out) DONUTS!

BLO2 stands up straight, as if in a military review or in a really evil fluid dynamics class.

Dumb BLO: Donuts. Donuts are soft, sweet and innocent. Donuts are voiceless victual victims. Down with that damnable den of donut debauchery, Dunkin’ Donuts!

Joe BLO: CHEERIOS.

Dumb BLO: Cheerios. Cheerios are dimensionally challenged, oat-based life forms, pre-masticated in the factories of General Mills so that they can be more efficiently drowned in immorally acquired fluids stolen from deserving baby bovines.

Joe BLO: LIFE SAVERS.

Dumb BLO: Life savers. Life savers are cylinderically imprisoned dextrorotatory sucrose units, bursting with fresh fruit flavors, and hoping against hope for freedom. Thoughtless humans put Life Savers in their mouths, because humans suck.

Joe BLO: FROOT LOOPS.

Dumb BLO: Froot loops. Froot Loops are...wait a minute. I thought Froot Loops were OK because they are nothing but CFC-foamed coal-tar residues.

Joe BLO: WHAT? Since when did that make a difference? A Froot Loop may look tiny now, but they are actually the embrionic form of a Hostess Fruit Pie, which they will become if placed with a loving, traditional family.

Dumb BLO: (weepy) Are you saying I can’t eat Froot Loops anymore?

Joe BLO: YOU!!?? You EAT Froot Loops! Baby killer! How many thousands have you sent to certain doom—or worse—in your lower intestinal track?

Dumb BLO: (crying) Well, what do you eat, dirt?

Joe BLO: Of course not! Dirt contins a wide variety of erudite microbes, you despoiler of the biosphere! You bacteria-bashing-bimbo! You traitor to the movement!

Dumb BLO: OK, so we have a little difference of opinion.

Joe BLO: You can wait outside our big tent, for all I care.

IQT: Hmm, I'm starting to sense a common thread to these lunatics' rants. (to Joe BLO) Tell me, what’s your sign?

Joe BLO: Taurus. Why do you ask?

IQT: Aha. That partially explains your infatuation with bagel-shaped food!

Dumb BLO: Doh! He's figured out Our Secret!

IQT: But what I still don't understand is why?

Joe BLO: (sighs) There are many reasons why we seek independence for bagels and their brethern...but above all, we revere them because...

Looks rapturous

IQT: Because?

Dumb BLO: (Confused) Because?

Joe BLO: Because...because toroidal food is...holy.

wait for audience groans

IQT: Enlighten me. What is it, exactly, that you do eat?

Joe BLO: We extract our nutritional needs from the air, and suck on moist limestone chips as a mineral supplement.

Dumb BLO: That, and the occasional “Arch Deluxe.”

Joe BLO: I really wish you would stay on message. It’s not like Jack Kemp stands up and says, “Bob and Liddy Dole have outstanding Family Values. And she's much better than his first wife.”

Dumb BLO: Wait, our message is about Family Values?

Joe BLO: Aaaargh.

IQT: You call those Family Values? Let me tell you about Family Values:

TEP Family Values

To the tune of The Flintstones’ Theme Song

Tep boys, meet the TEP boys

They’re a liberal fraternity

In their house on Comm Ave

Living on a welfare subsidy

Schmoozing with the media elite

Drugged out dancing naked in the street

TEP boys in the lunch room

They want birth control on every tray

Down with family values

Watching our morality decay

Snapping shots of prepubescent boys

Luring them all in with pretty toys

TEP boys taking money

From Endowment for Humanities

Using Fed’ral funding

To give Uzi’s out in Roxbury

See them as they celebrate Black Mass

Stuffing furry gerbils up their. . .^[4]

IQT: (to singers) OK, OK, I think they get the idea.

Joe BLO: Now that you understand our Mission, you imperialist jackbooted capitalist pig dog you, we are going to treat you as you have treated the thousands of bagels you have sold into slavery at TeppBucks.

Dumb BLO: You will submit to our will!

Joe BLO: You will reveal your secrets.

Dumb BLO: You will tell us your credit card numbers!

Joe BLO: ...not that we have any need for your pathetic bourgeois consumerist ways.

IQT: Ah, finally the torture. Mmmmmm. Very well, I am quite ready, and rest assured you'll get nothing from me, you lily-spleened, watery-spermed, breakfast-hugging pariahs.

Dumb BLO: Can we boil 'im? Cut ‘im in half?...Toast 'im over a hot flame?

Joe BLO: No...that would be too kind. Mr. Irving Q. Tepp deserves to die the same slow and painful death as the 22 dozen bagels which perished during the Great Bagel Massacre of June, 1994. Sound familiar, bagel-beater?

IQT: Sorry, I must have been reading the Financial Times that week.

Dumb BLO: We remember! 22 Dozen day-old bagels from your innumerable Newbury Street "TeppBucks" locations...

Joe BLO: ...taken to TEP...

Dumb BLO: ...left in the deep cave after the semester ended...

Joe BLO: ...gnawed upon by mice, in the most bourgeois manner..

Dumb BLO: ...colonized by fuzzy green mold...

Joe BLO: ...flooded out when the roof leaked into the basement...

Both BLOs: ...and then thrown in the dumpster during work week.

IQT: Excuse me while I alert Apathy International.

Joe BLO: Hah. You think we are joking you captialist pig-dog you. We'll see if you are still laughing after we’ve interned you for a few weeks in the deep cave and you’re covered with soft fuzzy mold. Any last requests?

IQT: Listen here, you Kennedy School dropouts; you should be working in a mail room, licking the mucilage on the back of postage stamps and affixing "return to sender" stickers to overweight parcels.

Dumb BLO: How does he know I work at the Post Office? After all, I left my AK-47 in my mailbag!

IQT: Last requests, you say? Well, if I am destined to molder in the basement like a good Brie, you could do worse than bring me a case of Chateau Chasse-Spleen '84.

Joe BLO: I thought you didn't drink.

IQT: I didn't, but now I have abstention deficit disorder.

Act Three: The Razzle-Dazzle Wrap Up

Look Down

to Work Song from Les Misèrables

Music by Alain Boubil et Claude-Michel Schonberg

Lyrics by Herbert Kretzmer

Note: solos are italicized. Divide up who gets them. Make sure the people can sing, ok?

Chorus Look down, look down

Don't look 'em in the eye

Look down, look down

Jailed by the FBI

Their case is weak

We know we've done no wrong

Look down, look down

The plot's not very strong

Our rep, is shot,

For all eternity,

Look down, look down,

We'll be on Court TV

Solo 1 I know, she'll wait

I know, that she'll be true

Chorus Look down, look down

She's (screwing) (out with) Harvard crew^[5]

Solo 2 'Scape from here

Bagels and beer

Here I come!

Chorus Look down, look down

In here we'll end our days

Solo 3 Oh Lord, Oh Lord

A virgin I will stay!

Chorus We're only Teps

We slaved at MIT

We might stay here

At least the food is free

Scene 1: In Jail

Jim: Well, this is a fine mess we’re in...we’re stuck in a prison in Hacky Sack, NJ. If only someone had detention deficit disorder.

Cy: If only we’d brought the Everything bagel.

Paul Vault: The Everything bagel?

Bird: The Super-Blooter-Bodacious Hyper-Mogrified Ultra-Hoss Everything Bagel. It contains the TepCo International Emergency Jail Break Kit, among other things.

Arch Uri: You mean this? (Pulls out the Giant Bagel!)

Jim: By Honig’s copious butt-hairs! Why, it’s the Super-Blooter-Bodacious Hyper-Mogrified Ultra-Hoss Everything Bagel!

Sarah: So what’s in there?

Paul Vault: Looks like a whole lot of poppy seeds...

Arch Uri: Hey, wait a second! I see a set of lock-picks!

Paul Vault: And I found this tiny diamond file!

Cy: Hey look! A power drill!

Jim: Wow! I found this Sawz-All!

Sarah: Oh wow! Cream cheese!

Cy: Cream cheese?

Sarah: It's not ordinary cream cheese, it's Semtex with Chives! We can plaster it against the walls and blow our way out.

Bird: (Incredulously) You want to blow through 22" of reinforced concrete with a brick of cream cheese?

Sarah: Semtex with Chives is no ordinary cream cheese— it’s been spun down in buttermilk hexafluoride. This is no Philly Light. No Neufchatel. This is highly enriched cream cheese. Weapons grade cream cheese.

Cy: You can't detonate that— we don't have a primer!

Bird: He's right. Priming is everything.

Jim: What are we going to do with this block of cream cheese, then?

Cy: Have you got any vodka?

Paul Vault: What’s that for?

Cy: You mix it with cream cheese and get a PHILLY SCREWDRIVER.

Sarah: Here at Crockwriters of Ernst and Julio Honigway, we tell no joke before its time.

All: ...time and time again...

Jim: Yeah, it’s kind of like the alumni...they were funny once, but now they just show up once a year and drool on the carpet.

Sarah: I should have been able to stop that joke...only I have prevention deficit disorder.

Cy: Well, look. Now that that’s out of the way, the rest of our escape should be easy. Paul Vault will use the lockpicks to clear the jail cell door, while Jim Nast will artfully take down a few walls as a diversionary tactic. Arch Uri will hang upside down from a razor thin wire and install Internet Explorer on all of the CIA computers. With the prison defences down, Sarah Moany will use the Philly Screwdriver to open up the manhole to the sewer tunnels underneath the prison. From there, it’s straight back to Tepistan.

Arch Uri: The sewer heads straight for Tepistan?

Bird: How else do you think we end up with all of those old couches?

Sarah: Wait! What are YOU going to do?

Cy: I’ll strip down to my Speedo and divert the attention of the guards with my "exotic dancing" skills.

Sarah: Will they go for that?

Cy: Sure! I called up the FBI, told them I was Hillary Clinton, and got our guards’ personal files. Every Friday, they go to the “Golden Banana” with Phil Graham and Newt Gingrich.

Sarah: Make sure you take this penis enlarger to deal with your extension deficit disorder...

Cy: I wish you had condescension deficit disorder...

Paul Vault: Well, once we're back in Tepistan, how will we get back to TEP? I don't know my way around!

Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority

(M.B.T.A.)

to the tune Y.M.C.A.

by The Villiage People

Young TEPs, There's no need to feel down,

You won't, need to walk in Beantown,

Young TEPs, You should head underground,

Where the air smells of bums' urine.

Young TEPs, get where you want to go!

A token—not that much of your dough,

Of course, it's annoying and slow,

But its fas-ter than an au-to.

It's fun to ride on the M-B-T-A!

Harvard Square, you never know what you'll see,

Then go to Central Square, Cafe Liberty!

You can, hang out on New-bur-y,

Make fun, of yuppies in Mer-ce-des,

Because, they did not take the T,

And there's no parking in Boston.

Young TEPs, will you listen to me?

Do more, than work on your degree.

Don't sit, at TEP watching TV,

Go and see the world around you.

It's fun to ride on the M-B-T-A!

You can get on the Red line, and go to the Tute.

Get your tooling done, while you are en route!

On Landsdowne, you can dance real dirty,

But make sure, you leave at twelve-thirty!

Or have dough, for a checkered cabbie,

Or you'll be, walk-ing back to TEP.

Young TEPs, you can go to Filene's,

Buy a, pair of tight leather jeans,

But don't you, scope out Boston's pre-teens^[6]

The same way, that T-stop used to.

Young TEPs, young TEPs, there's no need to feel down.

Young TEPs, young TEPs, get yourself under ground!

M-B-T-A....just get on the M-B-T-A

Scene 2: The Great Escape

IQT: (hands tied behind back, and just manages to get bandana out of his mouth.) And so it will be told that the Citizens of Tepistan routed the best minds of the FBI, the CIA, the BATF, and the EPA, all while violating the CDA as many times as possible.

Weary from their battles but with spirits high and the plundered sheep of the vanquished federal agencies thrown over their shoulders, our heros strive valiantly into Scene 2, where they will put two and two together, get five, blame a bureaucratic snafu for the error, and finally attempt to rescue me before I succumb to the fust and stench of the deep cave.

I really need to find some more competent heroes.

Jim: Wow, what an escape that was. Now all we need to do is banish the Bagel Liberation Organisation, buy Tepophone back from Gill Bates, rescue our house from the evil clutches of Noise Bitch, and pay our tuition.

Audience: Did you say tuition?

Cy: Yes, and if anyone in the audience was offended by our use of that word, we’re sorry ... that you were offended.

Sarah: What was that, some kind of Alfonse D’Amato Apology?

Bird: Don't you mean, Duh-May-Toe?

Piano vamp

All except Cy Culling sing:

You say Duh-Mah-Toe,

I say Duh-May-Toe

You say Whitewater,

I say “special prosecutor”

Cy: Cut it OUT! You know if you’re already scraping the bottom of the barrel for rhymes in the second couplet of a song, it’s time to call the whole thing off.

Sarah: But what about the second rule of crock writing?

Paul Vault: What’s that?

Cy: If it isn’t funny, repeat it until it is.

Arch Uri: Then what’s the first rule?

Jim: If it is funny, repeat it until it isn’t.

Cy: Look. That "song":

— Was not funny.

— Is not funny.

— Will never be funny.

And, furthermore, Whitewater is COMPLETELY irrelevent to our current goals.

Paul Vault: Yeah, that’s what the Clintons keep saying.

Jim: What were we doing before we forgot what we were doing?

Sarah: You mean, What were we trying to do before we forgot what we were trying to do?

Jim: Or is it...What were we trying to remember not to forget to try to do before...

Paul Vault: I'm really having comprehension deficit disorder!

Cy: What we were going to try...what we had planned to hope that we might...What we ARE going to do is rescue Irving Q. Tepp from the Deep Cave, where he has been cruelly imprisoned by the evil terrorist organization, the Bagel Libertation Organisation.

Paul Vault: Wait. I thought Irving Q. Tepp was dead?

Cy: That’s what I thought, too, until I found this ransom note in my mailbox.

Jim: It’s in Irving’s own handwriting.

Sarah: And it says, “to the tune of ‘Beer, Beer’” at the top.

Ransom at old Tee Eee Phi

to the tune of Beer, Beer

Kidnapped from old T-E-Phi

You bring the money or I will... get killed

Send those freshmen out for cash

Or else my throat will soon be... cut.

Don't call the cops and don't call the Fed

Or they'll make sure that I wind up... hurt

While all of the kidnappers

Are hiding out in the cave.

Arch Uri: Hey, that sounds like an encrypted message - I'll bet the kidnappers are holding Irving in the Deep Cave!

Paul Vault: And if Irving Q. Tepp isn’t really dead, then the will is invalid!

Jim: That means we get our house back!

Sarah: And our Elvis bust!

Cy: And our electric sheep!

(others give him strange looks.)

Cy: Ahem. Well, ONWARD TO THE DEEP CAVE!

Scene 3: In the Deep Cave

IQT: I hear someone coming down the stairs into the deep cave! Perhaps it is Chistopher Reeve, miraculously healed from his injury, wearing that wonderful Superman suit, here to rescue me from these dreadful Maoist Bagel crackpots.

Cy: Quickly! Search over here!

IQT: Hmm. Two of them. Perhaps it is the legendary masked-man, “The Lone Bunky” and his faithful side-kick Squanto!

Jim: Oh, man, this place is like totally gnasty...I think we should go look for Irving Q. Tepp someplace nicer.

IQT: (Sighs.) Alas, it is only the TEPs, my faithful subjects of Greater Tepistan. Ah, well...better incompetent help than no help at all ... Unless you're George Bush.

Paul Vault: There he is! There’s Irving Q. Tepp!

Jim: Our steroidally enhanced and genetically ageless benevolent dictator!

Cy: Well, that’s that. That’s pretty much The End of the Crock as We Know It...

piano vamp

Audience: GROAN!

IQT: Just a minute...first, release me from these dreadful handcuffs.

Cy: Sorry...we must have had intervention deficit disorder.

Sarah: Boy, you really had to use a lot of KY to squeeze that one in.

IQT: Second, don’t you have a question for me?

Jim: Umm, “Pardon me, would you have any Grey Poupon?”

IQT: (exasperated) About the kidnapping, you twiddleheaded foons.

Sarah: (to Jim) What are you, a dumbass?

Cy: Um, oh yeah! Who kidnapped you, and where are they now?

Joe BLO: HAH HAH! You stupid TEPs! We have lured you in with our bogus ransom note! Now we have you right where we want you!

Dumb BLO: Yeah, now we can have our bundt-pan cake and eat it too!

Joe BLO to Dumb BLO: What are you, a dumbass?

Cy: Give up. We have you surrounded!

Joe BLO: Well, we have you Surround-sounded!

Jim: Well we have you in Dolby Stereo!

Joe BLO: WELL, we have you in an optically encoded, four-track, quadrapuly-sampled all-digital environment with the thundering bass of a Bose Wave Cannon.

Jim: Can you think of a way around this?

Cy: No...I have circumvention deficit disorder!

Joe BLO: Soon you will be ours...the WORLD will be ours!

Dumb BLO gets uncomfortable look on his face.

Dumb BLO: I ate too many Olestra-based Fritos between Acts II and III. I need to go the restroom. Right away!

Joe BLO: DRAT! He's got retention deficit disorder!

exit Dumb BLO

Cy: Why are you so hung up on bagels, anyway? Bagels are pretty high on the food chain...they are made from flour, which is made from innocent grains of wheat, threshed from their mother-stalks in huge machines!

Jim: Bagels are already corrupted by the military-industrial complex-sugar complex!

Joe BLO: Are you saying the seeds of corruption have already been planted?

Sarah: Yes...and harvested.

Joe BLO: How could we be so blind? Henceforth, we shall be the VEGETATION LIBERATION ORGANIZATION.

Bird: But wait, don't plants simply intercept innocent photons passing through our part of the solar system and twist them to their own nefarious purposes? Don't photons have rights?

Joe BLO: Why...YES!!! Photons have the right to move at the speed of light! Henceforth, we are the SOLAR SOLIDARITY SOCIETY—dedicated to the complete reflection of the sun's photons off of the earth so that they can freely roam through the universe.

Sarah: Brilliant.

Joe BLO: I am off to cover the earth's surface with aluminum foil.

Arch Uri: You are a total whacko.

Joe BLO: No...I am...Cristo!

exit Joe BLO

Paul: Isn't there a song about Crisco?

All: NO!!!

IQT: Excellent work, my dear TEPs. You'll all see an extra nickel on your paycheck.

Jim: Great. That'll really help us pay our $22,000...tuition.

Audience: Did you say tuition? There's a song about tuition.

Jim: Not this year there isn't.

Arch Uri: But there is a song about...

Cy: Bagels and Beer!

BAGELS and BEER

to the tune of "Particle Man"

by They Might Be Giants

Bagels and Beer, Bagels and Beer

It's a mix that has no peer,

Favorite fuel of an engineer,

Bagels and Beer.

Is it a food? Is it a drink?

Or is it barf in the kitchen sink?

Will it help you at tiddlywinks?

Nobody knows.

Bagels and Beer.

(precussion break)

Bagels and Fish, Bagels and Fish,

Lox on bagels is our favorite dish,

Wish we weren't so impoverished,

Bagels and Fish.

You may think that we are bland,

That we all vote Republican,

But we like livin' in Tepistan,

And we are great bagel-olympians.

(musical interlude + percussion)

Bagels and Spam, Bagels and Spam,

Melt'em together in a frying pan,

Your rabbi thinks you're a crazy man,

Bagels and Spam.

Is it kosher? Is it right?

Why does it glow with that eerie light?

Hear you'll become hermaphrodite.

Stay away, from

Bagels and Spam.

(percussion break)

Bagels and Beer, Bagels and Beer,

Words that annoy our chancelleer,

What if our judcomm reps appear?

Bagels and Beer.

Is it a crime? Is it a mess?

Do the alums drink to excess?

Will they cause TEP "Rush Distress"?

Nobody knows.

Bagels and Beer.

^[2] This is NOT an invitation for Kracken to exhibit himself.

^[3]"Bituminous Coal" is the last phrase William Barton Rogers uttered before dying while delivering the commencement address to MIT in 19??

^[4] An unfortunately deleted couplet, deemed too untasteful for the masses of the unwashed:

See them as they’re dealing crack cocaine

Stuffing dead abortions down the drain

^[5] There was much gnashing of teeth about this line, as it does not in any way appear to be related to anything else in this year's Crock, but it is a Damn Good line nonetheless.

^[6] Alternate verse: But don't you, go out boinking pre-teens

^[2] This is NOT an invitation for Kracken to exhibit himself.

^[3]"Bituminous Coal" is the last phrase William Barton Rogers uttered before dying while delivering the commencement address to MIT in 19??

^[4] An unfortunately deleted couplet, deemed too untasteful for the masses of the unwashed:

See them as they’re dealing crack cocaine

Stuffing dead abortions down the drain

^[5] There was much gnashing of teeth about this line, as it does not in any way appear to be related to anything else in this year's Crock, but it is a Damn Good line nonetheless.

^[6] Alternate verse: But don't you, go out boinking pre-teens

Commentators
Bob Hostas, sports announcer	Unit Five DeRoo	I.1-I.4, II.1
John Tetanus, sports announcer	Becky Lantz	I.1-I.4, II.1

The TEPs
Jim Nast, Rush Chairman	Bradley JCF Rhodes	Almost All
Cy Culling, Chancellor	Leper Calhoun	Almost All
Sarah Moany, Brother	Jennifer Lantz	Almost All
Irving Q. Tepp, benevolent dictator	Joseph Chairman'Chapman	Almost All

The Freshmen
Arch Uri, MIT freshman	Chris	I.2 - end
Paul Vault, another MIT freshman	James	I.2 - end

The Bad Guys
Eitovitch Disunified Bagel EITer	Jill Bitgood	I.4
KnockitovDisunified Bagel EITer	Josh Goldberg	I.4
Joe BLO, Bagel Liberator (1)	Jason 'Quincy' Bucy	I.4-II.1,II.4,III.2-III.3
Dumb Blo, Bagel Liberator (2)	Schmooze Lantz	I.4-II.1,II.4,III.2-III.3
FBI Agent 1	Elizabeth Wilmer	II.3
FBI Agent 2	Kohta 'Batman' Ueno	II.3
Noise Bitch, just on general principle	Marianne Castellani	0.0

Others
Commercial Announcer	Kohta 'Batman' Ueno	Between Acts
Audience Plants (2)	Zoid	II.2
Bird	Big Bird Helfinstine