Professor Eisengel’s Tomb
An introductory note …
It was blessed enough to be friends with Mark Barragar, whom
I’ve mentioned in previous posts here,
and here.
At one point Mark hoped to have his own horror-host show,
and I was going to write him some scripts.
Mark wanted his character to be a Cyclopean type -- that is, only one
eye (don’t ask me why). So after a
little banter we came up with the name Professor Eisengel -- get it? “Single eye”?
PROFESSOR EISENGEL'S
TOMB
{Show
3}
[written
completely by Mark Alfred]
[Normal
FADE IN FROM OPENING CREDITS.
[PROFESSOR EISENGEL and DOCTOR MARK
are sitting facing each other in the same setup as P.E. and Professor S.
O'Terrick in Show # 2. In between the
two is a little wood-block table. Atop
the table is something -- maybe a cloth bag, maybe a floppy pillow, we don't
know. Maybe it's someone's laundry left
on the set. P.E. and D.M. swivel their
chairs slightly toward the camera, and P.E. speaks.
PROFESSOR EISENGEL:
Welcome to Professor Eisengel's Tomb, fiends
and woe-wishers -- oops, I mean friends and well-wishers! We've got a movie for you tonight that's just
full of dialogue, reverse angles, and cross-cutting -- maybe even a flashback
or a voiceover! All kinds of narrative
techniques to reward the attentive viewer but confuse the inattentive
channel-browser!
DR. MARK:
But, before we start our motion picture, we're going to
treat our viewers to a -- a -- a treat, from the early days of
television!
[As he goes on with this speech, D.M. grows
more and more excited and aroused by his subject matter, eyes glazing over and
breathing getting heavier.]
The legendary early days of TV, when everything was live,
and . . . the excitement and suspense were raw and new, and . . . the
creative juices flowed free, and . . . the very air was dripping with creative thrust,
and -- and --
P.E.
[putting
out a hand to calm Dr. Mark]:
Whoa, there -- calm down, Doctor! Let's not get all in a foam! [turning
to face camera] Yes, friends, today
we have with us in the Tomb one of the giants of early
children's television! But first let's
take you on a trip down Memory Lane and let you see a snippet of the show our
guest appeared on, "way back when."
Okay,
Melvin -- roll the clip.
[We FADE TO BLACK and our viewers see the
following clip from the early days of TV, completely made from scratch by us
for a fictitious kids' show.
[First, we see a grainy count-down,
like what you see at the beginning of a film reel, while the soundtrack has
loud pops and scratching noises, like those you hear in the old STAR TREK Blooper reels. Note that all of this "clip" has
scratches on it, and the sound is tinny, and it's all shot in one take with one
camera, as they did it in dat ol' so-called Golden Age of TV.
[We FADE IN on a tiny,
postage-stamp-sized set. Two male
adults, played by whomever, are in gangster outfits, complete with pinstripe
suits and snap-brim hats. They're
standing with their backs half-turned to the camera, facing a four-foot-tall
half-wall, with their hands up. Atop the
wall projects a hand puppet that wears a policeman's hat and is
"covering" the pair with the gun he holds.]
RALPHIE THE PUPPET
[in
a voice that sounds like Bugs Bunny doing Edgar G. Robinson]:
All right, Jasper! I
got thuh drop on yuh both now! Hand over
thuh swag! Yer takin' the Big Fall!
JASPER
Well, Ralphie, this time yuh got us dead to rights.
[in an aside to his partner across from
him]:
Psst -- Okay, Georgie, let him have it.
GEORGIE:
Duh -- okay, Boss.
[Georgie reaches down with the hand
that's closest to the camera (and thus hidden from the puppet) -- brings up a
baseball bat that's been leaning against
his leg -- and bonks Ralphie the Puppet with it. It drops the gun and hangs limply over the
edge of the half-wall.]
RALPHIE THE PUPPET:
Unh -- unnnh -- uhh!
JASPER:
Lam it, Georgie!
[They both run off-camera. The camera dollies in for a close shot of the
pathetic, groaning, twitching puppet. We
need to make sure the camera's shadow gets into the shot (a staple of early
TV). We hold this angle as our
enthusiastic announcer dramatically reads his cheesy lines.]
ANNOUNCER:
How will Detective Ralphie catch Jasper and Georgie
now? Tune in next week to Detective
Ralphie's Crime-Fighting Cavalcade!
[Semi-dramatic public-domain music swells as
"The End" is supered in
over Ralphie's convulsing form. The
screen goes black; the scratches that have been visible onscreen and audible on
the soundtrack fade out.
[We FADE IN back to Professor
Eisengel and Dr. Mark. D.M. is wiping
away tears. P.E. sits motionless, mouth
open, stunned. After a few seconds, D.M.
gets it together and turns back to the camera.]
DR. MARK:
Well -- that was greatness.
PROFESSOR EISENGEL:
I can say, the production values sure haven't changed much in
twenty years!
D.M.:
And even in that brief clip, the -- umm, the depth
of characterization! The clear delineation of great moral choices! Well -- in those days, giants truly walked
the Earth.
P.E.
[consulting
some notes]:
Umm -- Detective Ralphie’s Crime-Fighting Cavalcade
ran for seven seasons in syndication, from 1947 to 1955. At the height of its popularity, there was a
six-month waiting list for tickets to attend its weekly broadcast. [He
holds up a cheap magnifying glass]
This "Detective Ralphie Magnifying Glass" was sent out, free,
to any kid who mailed in a box-top from Ralphie's sponsor, Cavity Crunch
Cereal. It's made of Bake-Lite, an early
form of plastic, and is now worth up to $63 on the collector's market and on
e-Bay.
D.M.
And we're thrilled -- stunned -- to have with us today a
star from Detective Ralphie's Crime-Fighting Cavalcade. We're going to start our movie now, and on
our next break we'll talk with this titan of early children's television.
[As we begin to FADE TO BLACK, the bag on
the table begins to move, and we hear a muffled, high-pitched voice.]
VOICE:
Okay, fellas, let me outta here! C'mon . . .
{BREAK}
[We FADE IN onto our second
COMMERCIAL PARODY. It has no
"live" dialogue, only a voiceover by our friendly announcer.
[A housewife is standing in her
kitchen at the stove. With one hand she
stirs a pot, the other is holding a wireless phone as she jabbers away
mindlessly. After a second she pulls the
thing away from her ear and looks at it in disgust. We see her lips say "What?"
as she puts it back to her head.]
ANNOUNCER:
Friends, are you tired of that tinny-sounding portable
phone?
[Our scene now changes to a guy sitting in
his car in a parking lot. In one hand he
has his car phone. In the other is a
long, accordion-folded car-phone bill unfolding into his lap. Huge dollar signs are printed on every
unfolding page. He starts thrashing
around in a hissy fit.]
ANNOUNCER:
Or have you had to take out a second mortgage to pay the
bill on your cell phone?
[The screen splits into two left-and-right
halves, each showing a still frame of the two previous shots. The housewife is on the left, the car guy on
the right. As announcer continues, a big
animated "X" crosses out
each half as its problem is mentioned by the announcer and as indicated below.]
ANNOUNCER:
Modern S. O'Terrick research makes such halfway measures
obsolete! Introducing a communications
device so well-designed that snoopers can't even listen in to your private
calls ["X" over housewife], unlike portable phones! And it's so direct that you don't have to
worry about those limited calling areas ["X" over car guy] ,
unlike this fellow's cell phone!
[The screen goes black, with the word "Introducing . . ." supered
in. A drum roll is heard on the
soundtrack.]
ANNOUNCER:
Say goodbye to the cellular phone! And, say hello to . . . the cellulose
phone!
[There's a fanfare and happy public-domain
music on the soundtrack. We CUT TO the same
housewife, no portable phone in sight, stirring her soup again. A paper airplane sails in from off-camera and
lands on the counter beside her. We read
it over her shoulder as she unfolds it: "Hey, hon -- Luv ya! Bring me a beer, eh?" We see a smile of servile, man-worshiping
love on her face.
[We CUT TO the car guy. Now he's in his office, his feet propped up
on a full desk, snoozing.]
ANNOUNCER:
The ultimate in private, silent communication, the cellulose
phone is perfect for those times when ordinary words fail you . . .
[A paper airplane sails in from off-camera
and bonks into the guy's forehead, falling into his lap. We now look over his shoulder as he opens it
to read: "Wake up, schmuck -- you're FIRED!"
[We CUT TO a tabletop filled with
sheets of paper and variously designed paper airplanes. As the announcer continues and the ordering
info is supered over this shot, paper planes will sail back and forth in front
of the camera throughout.]
ANNOUNCER:
Best of all, saying it by cellulose phone costs only pennies
per message! So, order your supply of
cellulose phones today! Some assembly
required, not for consumers under the age of three. Call 1-800-426-3862 now! That's 1-800-IAM-DUMB! This offer not available in the Eastern or
Western Hemisphere, so call now!
{BREAK}
[We FADE IN back to the previous
set-up of P.E. and D.M. The bag on the
table is still moving a bit. P.E.
shushes the bag, then turns to camera.]
PROFESSOR EISENGEL:
Welcome back to our special-guest segment.
DOCTOR MARK:
We're so thrilled to welcome to Professor Eisengel's Tomb a
legend of early children's television . . . the star of Detective Ralphie's
Crime-Fighting Cavalcade . . . Ralphie himself !
[P.E. yanks away the bag. On the block table is the same puppet Ralphie
seen in the clip, though without the policeman's hat.
[NOTE: We need to gave camera coverage of Ralphie
moving and gesticulating as he talks.
He's to be covered as if he’s a really-true character being interviewed. The close-up angles on Ralphie can be
provided by either A) have someone
lying on the floor behind who's reaching up through a hole in the table to
animate him, or B) simply cut away
to a separately "animated" Ralphie and insert these shots into
sequence in post-production.]
P.E.:
Ralphie -- should I say "Mr. Ralphie"? -- Welcome to our program!
RALPHIE
[sounding
like a snooty George Plimpton]:
Yaas, well, thenk yew.
And thenks for rem-you-ving that perfectly stifling
coverment. I was beginning to
hyperventilate.
D.M.:
Ralphie -- is it all right to just call you
"Ralphie"?
RALPHIE:
I've already deposited my appearance fee; I don't care what
you call me. For the record, my legal
name is Panniker Coswell.
"Ralphie" was simply my stage moniker.
P.E.:
Well, I -- we're sorry, Mr. Cosworth --
RALPHIE
[interrupting
to correct P.E.]:
Coswell. Oh, very well then, call me Ralphie. [He sighs]
D.M.
[totally
oblivious to Ralphie's discomfort]:
I'm looking forward to hearing what must be a wealth
of anecdotes about those wild and fertile days of early live TV.
RALPHIE:
Actually, I -- I've tried to put those disruptive times out
of my mind. Those rude days are long
behind me.
[Angle on stunned P.E. and D.M.]
Yes, I only took that silly role in that barbaric series to
finance my true avocation, the truly civilized hobby of collecting rare books.
P.E.
[trying
to remain civil to their guest]:
Oh? Like Shakespeare
First Folios? First printings of Edgar
Allan Poe?
RALPHIE:
Collecting match-books, that is. My proudest achievement was completing the
entire six-color spread, with cover variations, from the 1957 "Diamonds
Route 66" series.
D.M.:
I'm -- I must say, I'm stunned by this turn of events. Here I had a, a long list of probing,
insightful
questions concerning various skits performed on the show, writing credits,
sponsor restrictions, and -- [steamed,
but trying to be civil] you don't want to talk about it?!?!
RALPHIE:
Oh, no, I didn't say that, I’ll talk about it -- I just
don't remember much. It was just a
job. Like driving a truck. To finance what is important in life!
P.E.
[stunned]:
Collecting . . . match . . . book . . . covers.
RALPHIE:
Oh, yes! My earliest
specimen is a 1917 Manhattan Luxor Boarding House. It's in fine condition, only slight rust
around the staple, only two matches gone.
A thrilling example of pre-Crash consumer advertising, using three
colors and . . .
[NOTE: From about this point on, Ralphie keeps on
talking, but his voice fades into the background as P.E. and D.M. close this
segment, and the show. The last thing we
should hear as we fade to black should be this ingrate puppet ranting on about
matchbook covers. So for the benefit of
those who care, here are the rest of Ralphie's remarks, even though viewers
will not be able to really tell what he's saying -- he should be saying
something, so here it is. Again, the
rest of these remarks by Ralphie should merely run on in the background under
and behind D.M.'s and P.E.'s closing remarks.]
. . . four different typefaces on the front. It has no interior printed matter; that only
arose in the mid-30s as the U.S. Government Printing Office began to commission
messages of encouragement. Inside
various matchbooks you might read, "Buck up," or "At least
you're free," or "So happy in Hooverville," and so on.
In fact,
this first message, "Buck up," was the source of a famous printing
variance that had the bluestockings of Boston up in arms. Yes, the simple message "Buck up"
was somehow misprinted! Some scholars
have suggested that pro-Union agitators had deliberately caused "Buck
up" to be misprinted, so as to create a stir and to reinforce their
demands for Union strictures in the workplace.
So this argument runs, if the U.S. Government's own printers were unable
to set even the simple words "Buck up" into type without messing them
up, then surely the rules of the Union were necessary to keep inattentive
workers responsible to their potentially vast audience.
What
outraged the prudes of Boston was what they took as a strike against the new and
socially prominent fad of using zippers for ladies' shoes and boots. The old buckle-down boots had been denigrated
as articles of clothing for the underclass.
So, when these misprinted matchbooks began to exhort people to
"Buckle up," all propriety was offended at this perceived slap at
modern fashion.
[Is this enough yet?]
P.E.
[talking
on top of Ralphie's lines as outlined above]:
I can't believe this, Doctor Mark! Here we went to all the trouble to track down
this guy's agent, and find that clip from 1954, just to hear him rant about matchbook
covers, for gosh sakes!
D.M.:
Is it too late to stop payment on his check? I am so disappointed.
P.E.
[with
a sigh as Ralphie rambles on]:
Well, friends, I'm truly sorry this didn't work out the way
we'd planned it. We'll see you next
time, here in the Tomb. [He looks off-camera]
Melvin, get
this guy outta here!
[P.E. looks disgustedly at Ralphie raving
and D.M. buries his face in his hands in shame as we FADE TO BLACK.]
{BREAK --
THE END of Show #3}
*******************************
See you tomorrow, kiddies!
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