If any of you have read my other parody, please excuse the following text if you hate my guts for the jokes I made about POTO. They just set themselves up.
And now, if you haven't escaped by clicking back soon enough,
The Moulin Rouge Maul
What, you expected a wittier name from the likes of ME?
Oh well, the show must go on. Cough cough.
Ze story begins in some gross little apartment. Christian looks like he got hit by a bus.
Christian: This is my story of love, of the Moulin Rouge. It was some creepy nightclub, with a repulsive little owner named Harold Ziddler. The place was a nightmare with a windmill, but I liked it. ANYHOO, on with the story. I can't stand these long, drawn-out monologues, but I do seem to do that a lot, don't I?
We suddenly flash back to a year ago. All tough guys in the audience leave after hearing the word "love" no less than thirty times in the first five minutes.
Christian: I came to Paris after I got fired from my job at the pencil factory. My boss said I just didn't have the kind of intellect for the job, and suggested I try becoming one of those lazy-ass artists who support the Bohemian revolution simply by growing a beard and wearing a beret. Sounded good, no?
Landlord: Here's your, room, sir. You must be from London!
Christian: Why, yes! Can you tell by my accent or my poor French?
Landlord: No! It was your teeth that gave you away! They're greener than the German countryside!
Christian skips into his room. Landlord slams door behind him.
Christian: Love, love, love, love! I've got so much love I could be a telletubby!
Tinky-winky: Oh, S.
Christian plops down at his typewriter
Christian: Wait, I've never been in love! How can I expect to write about it?
Unconscious Argentinean falls through ceiling. Audience rolls their eyes at the razor-thin plot twist.
Christian: Oh, look, a distraction!
Little midget: Ohhhhh. And he could have fallen right on you. Mumble. Hey, we need another warm body in our play, cuz our furnace blew out.
Christian: Hmmm. Sounds artsy!
Five minutes later, boobah and company are practicing their crappy play.
Jane: THE MOUNTAINS, THEY SING TO ME! AND THEY TELL ME HOW GODDAMN UGLY ALL OF YOU ARE!
Guy taking up space: I'm not sure if that will really speak to the audience. Any suggestions from the peanut gallery?
Christian: The hills are alive with the sound of music!
Group: Gasp! There is a true revolutionary with an ounce of sense in his head!
Christian: with songs they have sung for a thousand years!
Group: ooh la la! He should write the play!
Jane: Excuze moi? You no think mah art is good?
Awkward silence.
Jane leaves in a hissy fit
Guy taking up space: Don't mind him. He's PMSing.
Christian: Right then. I have to run, I'm expecting a fax from Crest. They want me for a "before" picture!
Group: Wait! Now that you're a true revoulutionary writer, here's your kit!
Gives Christian a box
Christian: Let's see, one tube of fire-engine red lipstick, one pair of size 11 stilettos, fake eyelashes, a cattle prod, and a bottle of… what the hell is this?
Group: The green fairy surprise! It goes great after a few strawberry margaritas.
Christian: you guys seem awfully relaxed about your…confusion.
Guy taking up space: Confusion? What's to be confused about? I drink drink, I pass out. No confusion.
Christian: That's not exactly what I meant, but I'll let it go. Gimmie the green fairy stuff!
Gulp.
Gulp.
Gulp.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!1
Guy taking up space: What? What's different? She's always here.
Green fairy: To tell the truth, you're driving me nuts now. Lay off and do something original for once.
Guy taking up space: It must be the juice talkin'
Group: Before you start seeing rainbows, we have something to tell you. You have an appointment at the Moulin Rouge tomorrow. The owner wants to hear some of your work!
Christian: Alrighty then. Y'know, I've never seen such an unusually sized emu such as yourself before!
Guy taking up space: Yep, let's call it a night. Tuck in good sirs!
Green Fairy: What a sorry bunch of losers.
Alright, first chapter in the hole. Hate it or vaguely like it, let me know. Btw, if you want to be helpful, let me know what the name of that foul drink they like and the name of his weird friend with the funny accent. Pleez! You guys rock!