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Trollheart · 12-10-2013, 07:31 PM

Sorry people! Sorry! I tried to stop him, but his hired goons pushed me aside! I’m really sorry…

BAH! Out of the way, you! Thought you could keep me out, eh? Advantage … Burns!

Oh hello! Yes. Thought you’d seen the last of me, I’ll be bound, when that Trollheart fellow stopped using me in his avataricons, eh? But then I popped back up in the Music Banter Members Journal Weekly Update Thread (till he ran me off there too, how dare he!) but you can’t keep an old miser down you know! At least, not one who knows what palms to grease, what goons to pay off, eh Janszoon? Vanilla? Mo-jo? Ahem! What? No no, nothing at all. These people have nothing to do with me, I do assure you. Yes? Well I challenge you to prove that in a court of law, sonny!

Anyhoo, I’m tired of all this tomfoolery about Christmas! Peace and love? Toleration for others? Goodwill to all men? My great-great-great-grand uncle Ebeneezer Burns would turn in his grave, if I hadn’t already sold the plot for a high-rise carpark and shopping mall development! Really! It’s time for some balance around here! Enough Santa Claus, it’s time for Satan Claws. Oh ho ho, very droll yes, I see what my overpaid speechwriters did there. Most amusing, yes.

So this section is going to be run by me, and there’ll be no interference by that annoying Trollheart. What do you mean, post not approved? How dare you! Oh yes, I see: will that be enough? Ah, blast your hide to Hades then! You drive a hard bargain, my friend, but we shall see who’ll have the last laugh. Oh yes, and I’ll be popping over to that other thing he runs too, what is it he calls the confounded thing? The sofa carrot? Ridiculous! As if a carrot would need a … what’s that you say, Smithers? Ah I see! Jolly good! The Couch Potato, eh? Still ridiculous! But anyway, we will be heading over there too: far too much goodwill and Christmas cheer in evidence over that part of the forum. Time to put the boot in, as that delightful Hitler chap once put it. So go bring the car round and keep the engine running, Smithers, we’re going to visit the neighbours, oh yes. What? No, we are NOT bringing them gifts! For the love of Peter…!

Oh, and that’s another thing I want to hear none of in this section: laugher, especially that of children, cuts through me like a knife. I’ll ensure there’s no reason you should feel the need to laugh anyway.

So what is this about? Well you may ask.

Mister Burns! You have to tell them or nothing happens! Mister Burns! Sir! MISTER BURNS!!!

Wha --- Who? Mater? No honestly, I didn’t unplug your life support machine on purpose! I tripped --- what? Oh, it’s you Smithers. What is it? Oh yes, the plan. Right. Of course.

Smithers?

What IS the plan?

Oh, yes of course. Silly me. How forgetful of me. The plan. Well, the plan is to debunk some of these annoying Christmas songs we all hear screeching out of the wireless this time of year. Some of the lyrics are just preposterous! “Lonely this Christmas”? Let me tell you, when you get to my age it’s lonely every Christmas! And that’s just how I like it! “Rocking around the Christmas tree? Not in my mansion you don’t, sonny! My Christmas tree is one of a kind, and priceless! You do your rocking somewhere else, preferably far from here. Ah yes, the hounds have been released, why do you ask? Excellent.

So then, what to start off with? Well, I’m not one to speak ill of the dead, but since I have more than one foot in the grave as it is, I feel like I can be made the exception, and so let me present to you the first in this charming travelogue though the songs of Christmas. Burns style.

Ah, Lennon! You were always my favourite Russian … what? Not THAT Lennon? Damn and blast it man! You’re making me look foolish! To the Wikipedia page, post-haste!

(Mister Burns will return momentarily. Until then, here is some music...)

Ah, I see. A Beatle. How jolly. I do so love those English pop stars with their unconventional haircuts and their entertaining accents. So, there were four of them eh? But this is just one. Fine, now go over there and sit down out of the way, will you? I’m trying to talk to the people!

“Happy Xmas, war is over” says John Lennon. Well, he may have hoped for that, but last time I checked the Afghans were still knocking the bejeebers out of each other, those charming Iraquis were blowing up everything in sight, and back here in the good ol’ US of A we’re still looking around for other countries to conquer. All right, invade. Oh blast your eyes man! Very well: render political assistance to. Is that pee-see enough for you? Heavens to betsy! It wasn’t like this when Bush was in power! Now there was a man who knew how to get things done! Want to effect regime change? Orchestrate a terror attack in your own --- ah, no, I’ve said too much. Forget I spoke. Oh look! A charming something over there in the corner, with absolutely no connection whatever to nine-eleven. Phew! Dodged a bullet there, Smithers!

So anyway, back to the Beatle chap. “War is over”, he croaks, “If you want it.” What? War is over if you want it? Want what, you hippie? War? Or war to be over? Well if it’s the latter then surely you would say “war is over if you want it to be”? Pah! Comes from going to Liverpool Polytechnic, I suppose. Never see a Yale man make such a glaring error! Let’s go a little further into this misinformed Christmas classic, shall we?

“And so this is Christmas”, he warbles. Well, as that organ bank from sector 7G, er, er --- Smithers! (Homer Simpson, sir) Ah thank you, yes. Homer Sampson would say, d’uh! (Simpson says d’oh Sir!) I know, damn and blast it man! I’m being ironic! We know it’s Christmas, John! We don’t need you to tell us that! What else does he witter on about? Let’s see… ah yes. “For weak and for strong.” Pfah! Christmas is a time for the strong, always has been. The strong get the last Robo-fighter-ninja-killer 4000, or whatever damn thing the little brats are looking for this year. The strong survive while the weak pass out or end up in soup kitchens, or fall asleep in front of “The sound of Music”. Bah! What else?

“The near and the dear ones” --- all my near and dear ones have,been eliminated ah, passed on, with not a shred of evidence to link their murde -- ah, untimely deaths, back to me. “The old and the young?” Now really! This is taking things too far! The old do NOT enjoy Christmas! Never have done! It’s a time for screaming children playing with their annoying toys, usually left at the top of the stairs where vulnerable old men like me can trip over them and end up spending Christmas in the emergency room. Yes. I won’t be inviting my grandchildren around to the mansion this year, I can tell you. Once is enough for something like that. Twice is quite enough. But after the ninth time, I think I’ve finally to put my foot down. Which is where the trouble began in the first place. Tax deductible expense my foot! Again, which is where the trouble began. Ho ho! No, not ho ho ho! Two "ho"s is all you get from me, my friends! You want more you can pay some fat fellow to wear a red suit! Ah, but I digress, for the sake of humour. LAUGH, you proles! What do you think I’m paying you for? What? You’re not getting paid? Just as well. Wait! Where are you all going??

Oh well, may as well finish this confounded thing. So the last lines are “War is over now.” Let me just turn on the news and see --- no, no. Seems war is still going on, most parts of the world. What? No, that helicopter gunship did NOT bear the crest of Burns Chemical and Biological Weapons Corporation on it! Where did you get that idea? Ah, the amount of times people have said that to me … oh you must be mixing that up with Burns Orphan and Needy Relief Corporation! Yes yes, that helicopter is going to the orphanage in, um, Sierra Leone, to deliver, um, ammunition belts to the children. What? Do you know how few children in that part of the world get to even SEE quality American weaponry? Unless it's being used against them. They should be grateful! What? Of course it’s live ammunition! Do you think I’d let my helicopter pilots face the forces of rebel --- er, visit children in hospital --- without live ammunition oh dear was that the door? Excuse me just one moment.

(The sounds of clumping feet, the screech of car tyres, a slamming door and the sound of a retreating car engine receding down the driveway all indicate that Mister Burns may have had to leave to attend an important meeting, but Smithers is here to explain.)

Um, sorry about that, readers. Mr Burns had to attend a very important and sudden stockholders meeting and will not be back for a while. He texted me though and assured me that --- let me just read that --- KILL EVERYONE LEAVE NO WITNESSES ---- er, I think what he meant to say was that he will be back with a look at another Christmas favourite soon ---- ah here’s the correct message --- SCORCHED EARTH. CODE RED. PRIORITY ALPHA. Hmm, probably reading too much Tom Clancy. Well, I must go now. Please remain where you are, someone will be along to show you out. Hmm? No, no, just locking the door as a security protocol. No, I can’t smell any gas. Must just be you… gotta go!

12-10-2013, 07:31 PM	#2071 (permalink)
Trollheart Born to be mild Join Date: Oct 2008 Location: 404 Not Found Posts: 26,996	Sorry people! Sorry! I tried to stop him, but his hired goons pushed me aside! I’m really sorry… BAH! Out of the way, you! Thought you could keep me out, eh? Advantage … Burns! Oh hello! Yes. Thought you’d seen the last of me, I’ll be bound, when that Trollheart fellow stopped using me in his avataricons, eh? But then I popped back up in the Music Banter Members Journal Weekly Update Thread (till he ran me off there too, how dare he!) but you can’t keep an old miser down you know! At least, not one who knows what palms to grease, what goons to pay off, eh Janszoon? Vanilla? Mo-jo? Ahem! What? No no, nothing at all. These people have nothing to do with me, I do assure you. Yes? Well I challenge you to prove that in a court of law, sonny! Anyhoo, I’m tired of all this tomfoolery about Christmas! Peace and love? Toleration for others? Goodwill to all men? My great-great-great-grand uncle Ebeneezer Burns would turn in his grave, if I hadn’t already sold the plot for a high-rise carpark and shopping mall development! Really! It’s time for some balance around here! Enough Santa Claus, it’s time for Satan Claws. Oh ho ho, very droll yes, I see what my overpaid speechwriters did there. Most amusing, yes. So this section is going to be run by me, and there’ll be no interference by that annoying Trollheart. What do you mean, post not approved? How dare you! Oh yes, I see: will that be enough? Ah, blast your hide to Hades then! You drive a hard bargain, my friend, but we shall see who’ll have the last laugh. Oh yes, and I’ll be popping over to that other thing he runs too, what is it he calls the confounded thing? The sofa carrot? Ridiculous! As if a carrot would need a … what’s that you say, Smithers? Ah I see! Jolly good! The Couch Potato, eh? Still ridiculous! But anyway, we will be heading over there too: far too much goodwill and Christmas cheer in evidence over that part of the forum. Time to put the boot in, as that delightful Hitler chap once put it. So go bring the car round and keep the engine running, Smithers, we’re going to visit the neighbours, oh yes. What? No, we are NOT bringing them gifts! For the love of Peter…! Oh, and that’s another thing I want to hear none of in this section: laugher, especially that of children, cuts through me like a knife. I’ll ensure there’s no reason you should feel the need to laugh anyway. So what is this about? Well you may ask. Mister Burns! You have to tell them or nothing happens! Mister Burns! Sir! MISTER BURNS!!! Wha --- Who? Mater? No honestly, I didn’t unplug your life support machine on purpose! I tripped --- what? Oh, it’s you Smithers. What is it? Oh yes, the plan. Right. Of course. Smithers? What IS the plan? Oh, yes of course. Silly me. How forgetful of me. The plan. Well, the plan is to debunk some of these annoying Christmas songs we all hear screeching out of the wireless this time of year. Some of the lyrics are just preposterous! “Lonely this Christmas”? Let me tell you, when you get to my age it’s lonely every Christmas! And that’s just how I like it! “Rocking around the Christmas tree? Not in my mansion you don’t, sonny! My Christmas tree is one of a kind, and priceless! You do your rocking somewhere else, preferably far from here. Ah yes, the hounds have been released, why do you ask? Excellent. So then, what to start off with? Well, I’m not one to speak ill of the dead, but since I have more than one foot in the grave as it is, I feel like I can be made the exception, and so let me present to you the first in this charming travelogue though the songs of Christmas. Burns style. Ah, Lennon! You were always my favourite Russian … what? Not THAT Lennon? Damn and blast it man! You’re making me look foolish! To the Wikipedia page, post-haste! *(Mister Burns will return momentarily. Until then, here is some music...)* Ah, I see. A Beatle. How jolly. I do so love those English pop stars with their unconventional haircuts and their entertaining accents. So, there were four of them eh? But this is just one. Fine, now go over there and sit down out of the way, will you? I’m trying to talk to the people! “Happy Xmas, war is over” says John Lennon. Well, he may have hoped for that, but last time I checked the Afghans were still knocking the bejeebers out of each other, those charming Iraquis were blowing up everything in sight, and back here in the good ol’ US of A we’re still looking around for other countries to conquer. All right, invade. Oh blast your eyes man! Very well: render political assistance to. Is that pee-see enough for you? Heavens to betsy! It wasn’t like this when Bush was in power! Now there was a man who knew how to get things done! Want to effect regime change? Orchestrate a terror attack in your own --- ah, no, I’ve said too much. Forget I spoke. Oh look! A charming something over there in the corner, with absolutely no connection whatever to nine-eleven. Phew! Dodged a bullet there, Smithers! So anyway, back to the Beatle chap. “War is over”, he croaks, “If you want it.” What? War is over if you want it? Want what, you hippie? War? Or war to be over? Well if it’s the latter then surely you would say “war is over if you want it to be”? Pah! Comes from going to Liverpool Polytechnic, I suppose. Never see a Yale man make such a glaring error! Let’s go a little further into this misinformed Christmas classic, shall we? “And so this is Christmas”, he warbles. Well, as that organ bank from sector 7G, er, er --- Smithers! (Homer Simpson, sir) Ah thank you, yes. Homer Sampson would say, d’uh! (Simpson says d’oh Sir!) I know, damn and blast it man! I’m being ironic! We know it’s Christmas, John! We don’t need you to tell us that! What else does he witter on about? Let’s see… ah yes. “For weak and for strong.” Pfah! Christmas is a time for the strong, always has been. The strong get the last Robo-fighter-ninja-killer 4000, or whatever damn thing the little brats are looking for this year. The strong survive while the weak pass out or end up in soup kitchens, or fall asleep in front of “The sound of Music”. Bah! What else? “The near and the dear ones” --- all my near and dear ones have,been eliminated ah, passed on, with not a shred of evidence to link their murde -- ah, untimely deaths, back to me. “The old and the young?” Now really! This is taking things too far! The old do NOT enjoy Christmas! Never have done! It’s a time for screaming children playing with their annoying toys, usually left at the top of the stairs where vulnerable old men like me can trip over them and end up spending Christmas in the emergency room. Yes. I won’t be inviting my grandchildren around to the mansion this year, I can tell you. Once is enough for something like that. Twice is quite enough. But after the ninth time, I think I’ve finally to put my foot down. Which is where the trouble began in the first place. Tax deductible expense my foot! Again, which is where the trouble began. Ho ho! No, not ho ho ho! Two "ho"s is all you get from me, my friends! You want more you can pay some fat fellow to wear a red suit! Ah, but I digress, for the sake of humour. LAUGH, you proles! What do you think I’m paying you for? What? You’re not getting paid? Just as well. Wait! Where are you all going?? Oh well, may as well finish this confounded thing. So the last lines are “War is over now.” Let me just turn on the news and see --- no, no. Seems war is still going on, most parts of the world. What? No, that helicopter gunship did NOT bear the crest of Burns Chemical and Biological Weapons Corporation on it! Where did you get that idea? Ah, the amount of times people have said that to me … oh you must be mixing that up with Burns Orphan and Needy Relief Corporation! Yes yes, that helicopter is going to the orphanage in, um, Sierra Leone, to deliver, um, ammunition belts to the children. What? Do you know how few children in that part of the world get to even SEE quality American weaponry? Unless it's being used against them. They should be grateful! What? Of course it’s live ammunition! Do you think I’d let my helicopter pilots face the forces of rebel --- er, visit children in hospital --- without live ammunition oh dear was that the door? Excuse me just one moment. (The sounds of clumping feet, the screech of car tyres, a slamming door and the sound of a retreating car engine receding down the driveway all indicate that Mister Burns may have had to leave to attend an important meeting, but Smithers is here to explain.) Um, sorry about that, readers. Mr Burns had to attend a very important and sudden stockholders meeting and will not be back for a while. He texted me though and assured me that --- let me just read that --- KILL EVERYONE LEAVE NO WITNESSES ---- er, I think what he meant to say was that he will be back with a look at another Christmas favourite soon ---- ah here’s the correct message --- SCORCHED EARTH. CODE RED. PRIORITY ALPHA. Hmm, probably reading too much Tom Clancy. Well, I must go now. Please remain where you are, someone will be along to show you out. Hmm? No, no, just locking the door as a security protocol. No, I can’t smell any gas. Must just be you… gotta go! __________________ Trollheart: Signature-free since April 2018 Last edited by Trollheart; 03-04-2014 at 08:39 AM.