Derren Brown: Archive
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From: hypersang
Date: Wed Apr 30, 2003 8:16pm
Subject: Re: Fwd: well, I make *me* laugh...
LMAO!!!!!
--- In a previous message, Blue Chip
wrote:
> Well, I wrote it, it was rejected, so just in case there is a
second person
> in the world who shares my sense of humour, this is it...
>
> -------------
>
> Herron Drown enters the green room where his bosom buddy Rabid Drain
> is waiting. Herron is enters from stage left shaking his head with
> his face in his hands after a particularly disastwous TV
pwesentation...
>
> HD: "ONE OF THE THREE!! What was I thinking!??"
> RD: "duuudde, you're the mind reader ...I thought _you_ were
supposed
> to tell _me_ what _I_ was thinking"
> HD: "No, no, no that's my twist. You tell me what _I'm_ thinking,
> then when _you_ get it wrong, _I'm_ still the stud"
> and starts nodding like a cheap car accesory with a
manufacturing
> defect.
> RD: "Look dood, there's a coupla things you really gotta lern"
> Herron rubs the fingers of his right hand into his left palm,
> looks at the back of his hand and....concludes that his
fingernails
> are dirty, and pulls out a metal nail file.
> RD: "Wassat duuude?"
> HD: "A, aaaarrrrrr, 'friend', bought it for me."
> RD: "What friend?"
> HD: "His name was Grant. But forget that for now. Look..."
> and, with the deftness of a cheap fiction writer, demonstrates
a
> skill he learned from a particularly cute majorette and shows
the
> nail file to Rabid in a terribly deceptive manner.
> ...Rabid pretends to be impressed. But fails
> ...Rabid pretends to be impressed again. And does much better
> this time
> ...Rabid pretends to be impressed again. He decides he got it
> best the second time, and stops posing.
> HD: "Oh that's very not-nice I don't think so of you.
> Don't make it look too fake won't you!
> Maybe you think" <tonality shift> "I can make you swallow your
> tongue"
> RD: "Chill duuude, we'll get the boys in the editing room to sort it
> out later"
> Herron frowns in a disapproving manner and mutters something
about
> getting his mates to follow Rabid around on a shopping
excursion
> and flash their left armpits at him from time-to-time.
> RD: "So what's with the pokey thing maan?"
> HD: "OK In you're mine, think of a father figure digging the
garden..."
> RD: "duuudddeeee, we've had this conversation before, and I told
you..."
> HD: "No, no, no. Go with me on this."
> RD: "uh huh" and looks terribly worried.
> HD: "Now! Name a card"
> RD: "okay, like, errrr, Eight of Spades"
> HD: "no, no, no, let me try that again... This time DON'T think of
your
> favourite card"
> RD: "okay dude, errr Three of Clubs"
> HD: "No, no, no if you just guess, you only have a 1 in 52 chance"
> RD: "No I don't maaan, 'cos you already told me not to think of my
> favourite one, that's like 1 in errrr, errrr, 50. Yeah, 1
in 50"
> HD: "1 in 51" Herron corrects him in Parental Tone
> RD: "Oh yeeeaaahhh, I forgot, I imagined like, a little mini me in
my head,
> and I made him, like, take one card from the pack, and then
count
> them. But the barstool did a double lift on me."
> HD: "What!??????"
> RD: "...Yeah, I got like a whole coffee shop full of little men in
my head.
> When I want to do coin tricks I go over and eat the cookies
in front
> of the money changer."
> HD: "You've ruined my trick now" ...and with that Herron leans
over stabs
> Rabid in the leg with the nail file
> RD: "like cooool dude, how did you know your card was in my pocket?"
> HD: "I didn't. I missed"
>
> ...time passes
> ...Herron makes the picture smaller and drains all the colour out
of it
> ...Rabid franticly hunts around for his "clipper" (www.flamgas.com)
>
> HD: "Rabid?"
> RD: "hmmmmm" he peers at Herron through an ever increasing cloud of
> sweet smelling smog.
> HD: "What encouraged you to characture the vernacular or the peoples
> rebel; the eco-typical partaker in the inhalation of the plant
genus
> Cannabis Sativa L"
> RD: "Hey maaan, why do you wear such _gay_ shoes?"
> HD: "I got them from this short queen you know."
> RD: "Oh very witty!"
> HD: "You avoided my question ...why the hippie thing?"
> Herron pauses
> "...and WHAT _is_ THAT smell"
> RD: "That's like last night's lentil curry maaaan"
> ...Rabid pulls his hand from between his legs...
> "coooooool, my clipper (www.flamgas.com)"
> He holds up the lighter which he has clearly been sitting on
for
> the last 20 minutes.
> HD: "You're confusing me"
> RD: "My clipper (www.flamgas.com) dude, I found my
> clipper (www.flamgas.com)"
> HD: "Why do you keep your clipper up... No. Too easy. Why do you
> keep mumbling 'www.flamgas.com'?"
> RD: "ohhhh, I like read your fan group looking for dirt on you..."
> HD: "and..."
> RD: "I keep getting the urge to become a salesman. I'm thinking of
> inflatable sheep"
> HD: "Now there's an image I didn't need"
> RD: "No, dude, sellin' them"
> Rabid allows one of his rare cynical grins to appear
> HD: "I told you before you dumb yank, Bristol is NOT in Wales"
> RD: "It's close" Rabid shrugs ...grins again ...annoyingly
> HD: "So, come on then" <little hand gesture> "If you're so smart why
> do you own a lighter if you don't smoke?"
> RD: "ohhh duuuude, you mean like you haven't seen my party trick?"
> Rabid raises one leg and lowers the lighter back to it's former
> resting place.
> "Pull my finger dude"
