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”?
These are the opening and scripts I came up with. Mark liked them, but was never able to
convince his bosses at Channel 25 to give him a late-night movie gig.
PROFESSOR EISENGEL'S
TOMB
{Show
2}
[written
completely by Mark Alfred]
[FADE IN FROM OPENING CREDITS.
[Professor
Eisengel is seen only by his legs which are sticking out from under a strange
mechanism of dials and buttons and flashing lights, as ornate and/or cheesy as
possible. In other words, something Ed
Wood would have been proud of.
[On the soundtrack we hear various
banging, sawing, drilling sound effects and a few pseudo-curses in P.E.'s
inimitable style.
OFF-CAMERA VOICE:
Professor! You're
on! We're rolling! Hey Professor!
[We hear a long gonglike, resounding BWOING-BONK! sound effect as the Professor's legs jerk suddenly, then go limp. A few seconds later, motion returns, and P.E.
rolls or slides out from under the device like a car mechanic from under a
clunker. He sits up, rubbing a
(previously made-up) red spot on his forehead.
If we like, we can make it a bruise, or a bleeding gash, or whatever.
[P.E. tosses down the rubber mallet
or socket wrench in his other hand and painfully rises, dusting off his
derriere with one hand while rubbing his sore head with the other. He mutters to himself, referring to dusting
off his butt and rubbing his head at the same time.]
PROFESSOR EISENGEL:
And they said I couldn't even chew gum and walk at the same
time! Try rubbing your seat and your
cranium simultaneously!
[He comes out of his reverie and now
talks to the camera.]
Oh -- hi there!
Welcome to Professor Eisengel's Tomb. Please consider this to be your tomb-away-from-tomb,
if you follow me! I -- I've, uhh -- just
completed work on my latest creation!
[He looks back over his shoulder, we
think at the mechanism he just emerged out from under.]
Yes, it's a "miracle of strange device," as the
poet Coleridge wrote! I have created a working
time-travel device! And, it's right over
here!
[He walks back to the big gizmo and picks up
a small device about the size of a paperback book from on top of the big
one. He looks up with pride into the
camera and back down at the thing in his hands.
Then a thought hits him and he goggles back and forth between the
camera, the thing in his hands, and the big gizmo he was working under at the
top of the show. Then a double-take back
to the camera.]
Hmm? Oh -- no, I
didn't mean -- did you think that big thing was my time
machine? No, a thousand times no! That thing?
No! This elegant, trim little
device is the time machine! That --
that's my garbage compactor! I
have to work on it every week or two, it always jams up when I put more than three
collarbones into it at the same time.
No, this! This is my time-travel device, or as
I'm thinking of calling it, my Chronal Receiver And Processor. That's -- C.R.A.P. for short! -- Umm, maybe
it needs a different name, eh? I need a
serious-sounding acronym for such a momentous device! How about -- Spatial Habitat Integration
Transfer, or S.H. -- oops! I think I'll work on the name another time.
Anyway,
here it is, and I'm about to conduct my first experiment in time! I, Professor Isaac Eisengel Fudd
-- that's Ph.D., "Fudd" -- will appropriate a person from the year
1972 -- twenty-three years in the past -- and bring him to the present, for
approximately five minutes, until the time-space continuum reasserts itself and
snaps him right back to his proper time.
With one heck of a whiplash, too, I bet!
[The camera pulls back as P.E. indicates a
big "X" marked on
the floor with masking tape.]
And here is where the great experiment
will take place! And since there's no
time like the present -- except the past -- or maybe the future -- here goes!
[He presses a button on the gizmo. We see a flash of light, a cloud of dust, a
hearty "Hi-ho, Silver!" -- No,
no! Just a flash of light and a cloud of
smoke. When the smoke clears, a strange
figure is seen. A figure wearing John
Lennon specs. A figure in a leisure suit. A figure wearing Earth Shoes.
70s DUDE:
Whoa, man! One minute
I'm watching Love, American Style, and the next I'm on the bridge of the Enterprise! Hey, Sulu, puttin' on a few pounds,
ain'tcha? Heyyy -- hold on, podnuh! What's really goin' on? I just missed the "Lovemate of the
Week"! Where am I?
P.E.
You're in my research lab!
I am Professor Isaac Eisengel, and I've brought you forward in time from 1972 to 1995!
70s DUDE:
Yeah, man, like that
song, "In the year 19 and 95, if man is still alive . . ." Wait a minute! Time travel?
Like the Time Tunnel or something?
The speed of
light is, like, over the speed limit!
Haven't you heard that Nixon just cut the national speed limit down to
55? Conserve energy and all that. Good thing my Corvair gets such good mileage.
P.E.:
No, young fellow, you don't understand. I've wrought this miracle of modern science
not by speed, but by a selective warping of the space-time continuum! I --
70s DUDE:
Wait a minute, bud!
You're not using those nuclear fuel rods, are you? [begins
to chant and march in a circle around P.E.]
No nukes! No nukes! No nukes!
P.E.
[interrupting
him]:
Hold it, fella! No,
you misconstrue! I'm not "nuking"
anything -- except my microwave pizza, here. [He turns to a nearby microwave oven and pulls out a little microwave
pizza.] Here -- want some?
70s DUDE:
No way, man!
Radiation! I'm outta here!
[He runs off-camera. We hear a door slam. P.E. shrugs -- "oh well" he thinks
to himself -- puts down the pizza, and works a control on his little
time-zapper.]
P.E.:
There, that'll do it for him! Such an excitable guy! Now he's back in his own time. Hmm -- think I'd better build a cage before
bringing up my next subject through time!
And, oops! Speaking of time,
we're out of it for this segment! Enjoy
the movie, and we'll be seeing you.
{BREAK}
[We
show a title card: "S. O'Terrick Illuminations."
[FADE IN FROM TITLE CARD to a set
featuring two chairs facing one another.
In one is Professor Eisengel, and in the other, suitably made up, is
Professor S. O'Terrick.]
PROFESSOR EISENGEL:
Welcome back! Today
we introduce a new segment, a public-service feature intended to answer many of
your questions about life in today's fast-paced megabyte, microtime world.
Our expert
is, in fact, my own ex-Siamese twin, though I've never figured out how our last
names came to be different. When our
bodies were separated, maybe our names were, too.
Anyway,
without further doo-doo -- I mean, without further ado, let me introduce . .
. Professor S. O'Terrick, Mr. of Ed.!
[We cut to S. O'T. He speaks with a Germanic accent, but not
until the script tells him to. For now,
P.E.'s intro continues.]
Welcome, Professor O'Terrick. Excuse me, but you've never told me -- S.
O'Terrick -- is that an Irish name?
S. O'T:
No -- "zhat" is an English
pronoun.
P.E.
Sorry about that! I
meant, is your current last name -- O'Terrick -- an Irish name? Sure sounds as if it might be.
S. O'T:
Many countries haff tried in vain to claim me, but my genius
surpazzes mere political boundaries.
P.E.:
Mmm, yes -- okay. A
note to our viewers: We encourage you to
send in your questions to Professor O'Terrick.
We'll show you the address in the end credits for tonight's show.
Now,
Professor, we collected a few questions from the staff and camera crew to get
us started tonight. To our viewers at
home -- these are the kind of big, cosmic questions that Professor S. O'Terrick
has agreed to answer.
QUESTION
1: Since technology enables us to
"step down" electricity with transformers, so that the same
electrical current that boils water on a stove's heating element can safely
warm an electric blanket, can science do the same thing with microwaves? In other words, why don't we have microwave
blankets to keep us warm at night?
S. O'T:
Mein goodness, what
ein gross mizzundershtanding of physics is evidenced by this generation! The answer is zimple. Yes, we do indeed use impedance and transformers
to "step down" electricity.
But microwaves are already small, that is why they are
"micro," ja? To use them in a
"microwave blanket," you'd have to "step them up"! Then you would have big ones, macrowaves! Also, you'd have to rotate yourself and stir
every five minutes!
P.E.:
I see, Professor. So,
sometimes, size does matter!
QUESTION
2: What happens to all the letters
dropped from the ends of words? When
five million teenagers start saying "What's happenin' " instead of
saying "happening," does it affect the ozone layer or something?
S. O'T.:
Ach, no, ze effect is zomeding much more drastic. There is a special "black-budgeted"
agency of the United States government that has made special arrangements with
the Merriam-Webster Company. All the
ending letters dropped from the ends of words are credited to a special
account, dedicated for use in political speeches. Thus, every time you tell your "puddin'
" that she is "lookin' good," you are adding to the wordbank of
the nearest political hack.
P.E.:
Brrr! Quite an
argument on the side of precise speech, I must say.
S. O'T.:
You ain't just a-whistlin' Dixie, kiddo! . . . Oops!
P.E.:
Thank you, Professor S. O'Terrick.
{BREAK}
[We FADE IN on our first COMMERCIAL PARODY.
[Bob is sitting behind his desk at
the office. The desk is cluttered with
papers and styrocups. He's hunched over
his desk, his eyes glazed over, his chin sunk down on his chest.
[Bill walks into frame and puts a
friendly hand on Bob's shoulder.]
BILL:
Hey buddy, how's it goin'?
[Bob jerks like a frog on a hot plate,
sending papers into the air and spilling a couple of half-drunk cups of
coffee.]
BOB:
Huh? Whuzzat -- oh,
hi, Bill! Now look at this mess! You scared the -- Well, I guess I was just
zombied out, man.
BILL:
Here, let me help you wipe up some of this mess. Wow, man, you're really out of it. What's the matter?
BOB:
Well, I was up last night 'til 1:30 working on the Barger
presentation, and then just before lunch this morning ol' Robberson changed the
specs on the Niknak contract so I had to work on that through lunch, and now I
just can't seem to concentrate! I keep
looking at these same papers over and over, but I can't make 'em focus and make
sense to me!
BILL:
Bob, why don't you do what I do for maximum alertness!
BOB:
Say, Bill, that's right!
I never see you dozing off at your desk, or see you fighting the dreaded
"three o'clock slump"! Tell
me, Bill -- what's your secret!
[Bill unbuttons his right shirt cuff and
pushes up his sleeve to reveal a brown, Eisenhower-dollar-sized patch on his
bicep. With his left hand, he points to
it joyfully.]
BILL:
It's this, Bob! The
Caff-O-Patch, from S.O'T Labs! I just
slap one on every morning, and I'm jazzed all day long! At bedtime, I just remove it, and enter a
coma-like state 'til morning, when the Shock Alarm jolts me back to the land of
the living!
BOB:
Hey, man, that sounds great!
How can I get one?
[We CUT TO a tabletop bearing a coffee pot
and several cups of coffee on a serving tray.
An animated "X” crosses out the picture as our
voiceover announcer gives his spiel.]
ANNOUNCER:
Yes, Bill's secret is the Caff-O-Patch! From S. O'Terrick research comes this
indispensable aid for coping with modern life!
Each Caff-O-Patch contains, in time-release form, the equivalent of
thirty-seven cups of coffee! Enough
caffeine to keep you buzzin' all day long!
[We CUT TO our order screen, which features
the product name, price, phone number, and disclaimer.]
So call today for the amazing Caff-O-Patch! A week's supply is only $69.95! And you'll want the Shock Alarm Bill spoke
of, it's only $49.95! Call
1-800-559-4733. That's
1-800-55-WIRED! This offer not available
in the Northern or Southern Hemispheres, so call today!
{BREAK -- THE
END of Show # 2}
[BUT NOTE that in the END CREDITS of
this show we need to include an address for viewers to send in questions for
Professor S. O'Terrick!]
