sponsored by Mullerice
|BACKGROUND : The original story of Tina Turner and the Impossible Egg was written in the year 1978 by Roald Dahl. The gentle story of a woman born to a humble family in Nutbush, America, who found power in song and used it to play pranks on the monsters who lived under the rubbish tip near her home. Richard O'Brien has remained true to the warmth and sincerity of this classic, by adding the themes of promiscuity, murder, and the apocalypse.|
TINA TURNER'S DREAM AND HANGOVER
ďDo you know who I am?Ē I screamed at the shopkeeper. ďI am Tina Turner! I sang many songs that you can find in the shops and buy and the least you can do is give me this fucking make-up for free!Ē
The fuckiní bitch didnít give me the make-up, and things was gettiní desperate. My skin was beginning to flake off, and in minutes I would revert to Norman Tempest, songwriter and serial killer. If anyone saw this happen, I could well imagine my career as premier pop minx ending before my plan to steal Earthís dogs to feed my home planet reached fruition.
I had found the balance - Norman would write the songs, the kill somebody, and in consuming their corpse would gain the power to become me, Tina. But the effects soon wore off - after an enormous stadium concert and some raunchy misadventures which are far too entertaining to list here, my skin started falling off, and Norman hatched.
I woke up, as ever, with a mouth that felt as though two colliers had wrestled a shitty pig in it. I had drank far too much last night, just as I would tonight. Oh fucking boy. Whoo! Iíd had the nightmare about me being an alien, again. I rapped at my temples with my palm, more to make the gesture than anything else, and regretted it as an angry blossom speared across my sockets. I tested my singing voice with a few notes - still got it - and bellowed my hangover song out of the window. Today my song of seduction was to the tune of ďCopa CabanaĒ.
|ďMy name is
Tina, Ti-Tina Turner,
I went out on the lash,
Now Iím frothing at the gash,
Iím off-er-ing you, this tidy earner,
If you come and pleasure me,
I will give you 50p,
Iím horny as can be, eating poo drinking wee,
Thereíll be love and a spurty cum shot
Then Iíll make you tea...
My name is Tina - Ti-Tina Turrrrnerrrr,
Fill me with your tool, let me feast on your stools,
Call me Tina.....
Let's fall in love......."
I hopped onto my king size fuckbox and waited for the doorbell to start ringing. How was I to know that my right fallopian tube was carrying the egg that carried the doom of the world as its unfertilised cargo?
WHEREIN FERTILISATION OF THE CARGO IS ACHIEVED
A romantic duet for two and a load of people dressed in sperm outfits
The ejaculation effect is very important, and should be achieved by people dressed in white, wearing paper globe lampshades on their heads, lying on skateboards and being pushed across the stage as they wriggle frantically. Done correctly, this effect is steptacular, in the wrong hands it is confusing and stupid.
|Sperms||Sitting in this pod sack, weíre itching to be free,|
|Egg||Drifting through flesh corridors, needing spunk to enter me,|
|Egg||I wanna get stuffed,|
|Sperms||Letís get fuckiní!|
|Egg||Donít wanna get sloughed, with the bloody womb lining and all of that stuff....|
Kontiki the Friendly Spermís spoken solo
My nameís Kontiki. I am unusually sensitive for a sperm, and if you were to compare me to the sperm of another animal, I would be the sperm of that meerkat that fell over on Jeremy Beadleís television program. Iím hoping that I get to that egg first, so that I can turn into an artist, or a retarded worker in a donkey sanctuary. People will love me, and I shall never want to hit them!
Hey, Kontiki, you gay sperm puff bugger, weíre about to ejaculate!
Iím going to swim like Iíve never swum before. Obviously, seeing as Iíve never swum before.
Grunt and splat
|Kontiki||Iím swimming so fast that the fannyís a blur,|
|Egg||I donít want to end in the matted cunt fur,|
|Kontiki||Iím leaving the rest of the spunk far behind,|
|Egg||But a problem with ethics keeps coming to mind....|
Knowing that I contain the twisted fire-eyed apocalypse within me, should I resist my natural and normal urge to roll around in hot white sex glue? Those crazy bastards will be here any minute. [laughs] Oh, those crazy sperm bastards! Those guys! Iíve already forgotten what it was I was worried about! Oh, yes, apocalypse.
Slurping pop sound
Iím in! Hurrah for me, the plucky underdog. Oh, my God, what is that?† Oh dear... what have I done?
EIGHTEEN MONTHS LATER : MATERNITY WARD
|Nurse||Are you sure you donít want to have your baby now, Mrs Turner? Itís been twice the usual time, you know.|
|Tina||No thank you, Iím quite happy with my Mullerice and my Friends videos.|
|Nurse||Iíll come back again next month then, Miss Turner.|
|Tina||Oh, shit! Here it comes!|
|Tina||Thereís no need to be like that oh, you meant you wanted hot towels to deal with my birth?|
|Nurse||No, I was using it as an exclamation of horror and disgust, as you initially thought.|
|Tina||What rubbish. You must see this sort of thing every day. Is it a boy or a girl?|
|Nurse||I didnít get a chance to see before it flew out of the window.|
|Tina||Hey, it stole my knickers!|
|Nurse||This oneís going to give you a bit of trouble, our Tina.|
|Tina||Fuck the little bastard. Ten seconds into the world and heís twocced me knickers and flown out of the window, heís no son of mine.|
|Nurse||What's that on your neck, Miss Tina? It looks like all your skin is falling off!|
In the rooftop of the church, the DoomBaby howls to the chorus of ďRelight My FireĒ
|DoomBaby||Ow Ow Ow-Ow Ow
Ow owowow ow ow-ow owoh
Ow Ow Ow-Ow Ow
Ow ow ooooooooooooooow ow OW!
DoomBaby chorus joins in with different sounds, lie ďPeeĒ and ďChooĒ,† as fireworks go off.
TINA HIRES A PRIVATE DANCER
|Tina||Hello, there. I would like to hire you to track down and destroy my son.|
|Dancer||I donít think I can do that, Miss Turner.|
|Tina||Why the hot showstopper not?|
|Dancer||One, it is a strange and disturbing request that goes entirely against my anti-murdering ethic, and two, I am not an assassin, I am a private dancer.|
|Tina||Oh, right. In that case, Iíll take two rumbas and a cha-cha.|
|Dancer||Right away, Miss Turner.|
|Tina||Call me Tina.|
Commence rumba music
TINA HIRES AN ASSASSIN
|Tina||Are you an assassin?|
|Assassin||Well, yes, but that is normally considered a rather crass question to ask an assassin. We usually code it with seemingly nonsensical questions about wildlife.|
|Tina||Iím sorry. Shall we start again?|
TINA HIRES A DIVING KESTREL
|Tina||Can you delimit the file of the diving kestrel?|
|Assassin||Not with commas, as the file already contains these.|
|Assassin||The file may need delimiting with a special character.|
|Tina||Will that be more expensive?|
|Tina||Can we sort one thing out first. Are you a diving kestrel?|
|Assassin†||Many kestrels dive, few climb up to dive again.|
|Tina||[shirty] Are you a diving kestrel?|
|Assassin||[slightly shamefaced] Yes, I am.|
|Tina||Good. Iíd like to hire you to kill my son.|
|Assassin||Excellent. This is the devil boy, yes? It is good that you have accepted that he must die.|
|Tina||Fucking hell, news gets about 'round here, doesn't it? No, it's nothing to do with that. Iím just doing it for the craic, really.|
|Assassin||Very well, that'll be fifty quids. I must apologise that I cannot sing, as I have a sore throat.|
|Tina||Thatís fine, as it was getting boring anyway. Here, youíll need this dagger as it is the only thing that can kill him, apart from being minced as in the Pink Floyd video for The Wall. The mincing trick also works for werewolves.|
|Assassin||I wonder where all the dogs have gone? You don't see many dogs around these days, do you?|
THE ASSASSIN AND THE ANTICHRIST
DoomBoy, now five, crawls around the foyer of a hotel, angrily grabbing at peopleís trouser legs and stopping people reading by flicking the backs of their newspapers. He takes Tinaís knickers out of his pocket, cries into them briefly, then resumes biting people. The Assassin sits reading a copy of the Daily Mail in order to steel his gut for the deeds that lie ahead. A constant flicking at the paper causes him to lower it.
|Assassin||I take it you are the spawn of Beelzebub.|
|Doomboy||No, you are.|
|Assassin||You are an abomination.|
|Doomboy||Youíre flying low.|
|Assassin||I am not flying low.|
|Doomboy||Yes you are. Your nobís hanging out. Ur, this manís showing me his nob! Rape!|
|Doomboy||Stop what? Iím not doing anything. Youíre raping me.|
|Assassin||Stop saying that. Iím not raping you, and my cock isnít out.|
|Doomboy||Here. Smell my finger.|
|Assassin||Why, what is on it?|
|Doomboy||You'll have to smell it to find out.|
|Assassin||OK, but.. oh, what the fuck?|
|Doomboy||Ha, ha! I had that finger up my bum! Now youíve got bob on your nose!|
|Assassin||You truly are the son of Satan! I will stab you in the heart with this dagger!|
|Doomboy||Oh, yeah? You and whose army?|
|Assassin||What good would an army be with just one dagger? There would be endless arguments about who would hold it.|
|Doomboy||Fair point; I know when I'm beat - just let my death be quick!|
|Assassin||Stab! Stab! Stab!|
|Doomboy||Stop saying stab while you're stabbing me. It's really rubbing my face in it, you know.|
|Assassin||I AM ASSASSIN!|
|Policeman||Would you mind stop stabbing that dead boy and accompanying me to the station, sir?|
SCOPE FOR A SEQUEL
|Norman Tempest||Crikey, it turns out that my alien dream was simply my subconscious reminding me of a forgotten reality, and I am an alien after all. What's more, I accidentally gave the assassin the wrong dagger, so my son cannot be dead!|
|DoomChap||That's right, mother. I am now fully grown, at the height of my powers, and I wish to join in your bid for world conquest.|
|Norman||Together we shall be unstoppable!|
|DoomChap||[to himself] And yet I remember being a friendly sperm - perhaps I will come good after all?|
The soundtrack to Tina Turner and the Impossible egg is available in three formats; sung over the phone, or as an echo. If you want a more permanent copy, sing it into your cupped hands and release the music later by opening up your palms. Just don't forget it's there!