The Jokes, section 6: Speak to Me like Lovers Do

In the Black Forest of the Banana Peels, an army marches to their own densely-arranged and essentially stupid musical score:

Like a hammer to the skull, like a skier driven deep into the softly packed snow, We Know, We Know, Our Role, Our Role. Live a million years, conquer lands and vanquish fears, Our Tears, Our Tears, Advance our careers if we're sincere. If we're sincere, in our veneer......

[Musical Interlude: Dum dum dum dum Dum dum dum dum....]

Slipping on a slick underlit patch of ice (patch of ice), brings us closer to our paradise (paradise), and if we sound out good & extra nice (extra nice), howls of pain absolve us of all vice (of all vice), and when I 'lectrocute 'pon flawed device (flawed device), I see a lite brite imprint of wise sunrise (wise sunrise), with eyes no puppetmaster could devise (could devise), with brittle bones I set off swift surprise (swift surprise), intended to surprise cheese hank'rin' mice (hank'rin' mice), but which instead has found my fingers will suffice (will suffice), my every step I trip my spirits rise (spirits rise), with every laugh I shatter morbid lies (morbid lies), like glass tables struck too hard by tumbling metal dice. Within our skin we pinch our soul within a vice within our flesh we pin our hearts and minds to a sense of safety and propriety our comedy denies.

[Musical Interlude...]

These are facts jacks, pure and simple like my dimple, stick with your swung cats, stick with a gasp of air your slaps and fall your prats, roll with the punches and punch like your rolling a flowing aero-dynamic going bowling ball with all of all of your contrived and contorted force, of course, you flow and you roll with it, of course, of course, into the pins for a strike and you win and it's bittersweet like the blood dripping from your broken teeth, like a coral reef, of course, of course, of course. I'm out. Peace.

[Musical Interlude...]

Scatological catalog of all the things that can go wrong in the bathroom of a friend. When your face turns purply-red. Methodological indexes of everything puerile and quaintly vile like a well-timed fart. Poop and Dick jokes are an art!

[Musical Interlude...]

You do what you gotta do, who you gotta do it to. You do what you gotta do, who you gotta do it to. I'm good, I'm great, I'm grade A. I...Am...Hubris. I'm good, I'm great, I'm grade A. I...Am...Hubris. I do what I wanna do, who I wanna do it to, I'm vain and I am arrogant, I'm unpleasant and I'm lust-filled too. I'm vain and I am arrogant, I'm unpleasant and I'm lust-filled too. I'm good, I'm great, I'm grade A. I...Am...Hubris. I'm good, I'm great, I'm grade A. I...Am...Hubris. I'm going to get kicked in the nuts! (Yeah) I'm going to get kicked in the nuts! (yeah) I..............Am.......Hubrissssssss!............(yeah)

[Musical Interlude...]

Oh the greats how they'd make it with pies in their face. Oh the greats how they made it dangling from giant time faces. Oh the greats how they made it as zany and insane goofball redheads. Oh the greats how they made it as bowl-cut, cue bald and increasingly bald-headed redheads. Oh the greats how they spoke with cigars blowing smoke, how they harped onward ever without having ever had ever to spoke, how they made you laugh, they made you cry, they made you never fear to die, never fear to laugh when others cry, never fear the flesh and each bit of its precious surprise. Oh the greats who've departed our plain dull plane to crash paper mache planes into stained-glass panes, who are now stains on the shirts of the fates. Oh. the. greaaaaaaaattttsssss. (yeah, jazz hands)