Here is my favorite of all the bits I've done at Moonwork: April 14, 2007! If the very beginning of the monologue, where I'm repeating myself, doesn't make any sense, just know that I was following the incomparable Reggie Watts.

I'll be in L.A. for the next few months writing for a show called 'Talkshow With Spike Feresten'. Saturdays at midnight on Fox. I love that it's on Fox, which has always been a great home for comedy.

I play THIS GUY in an upcoming video game. Nice!

Bigfoot. Sasquatch. Yeti. Windigo. "El Orangu-Man Diabolico!" Nessy. Champ. Writhing-Toothed-Lake-Phallus.

From the blurry corners of grainy home movies they seize our imaginations and shroud our thoughts in wonder! THEY ARE THE CRYPTIDS! Creatures of mystery! Or more likely, bears or perhaps otters!

Good evening. I'm Andres du Bouchet. For the past thirty years (that's 10 yards of years!), I have spent the bulk of my free time collecting and organizing pornographic playing cards. But during the slim margins of free time when I am NOT collecting, organizing, cataloging, cleaning and otherwise pouring over said cards, I am surfing the web for evidence of cyptids. Creatures of mystery! Be they 8-foot tall hairy apelike men or lake serpents, be they Gigantopithecii or Elasmosaurs, I surf for the elusive, conclusive, evidence of their existence. Unsatisfied as of yet, I am still amazed at the diversity of myth. Take for example, this brief list of most-likely fictional beasts that prowl the edges of our nightmares...

Mt. Washington Weasel-Fiend
Mister Pudding Palms
Sentient Scrabblemaster Fart ("I blacked out from a terrible smell, and when I awoke, there on the board was a triple word BINGO!")
Appalachian Newt Bat
Spontaneous Proctological Exam Elf
Planned Well In Advance Proctological Exam Elf (when the appointment appears in your calendar it is terrifying!)
Goat Who Constantly Hums Journey
Hovercow
Polite Barrista
Gristede's Cashier Who Will Make Eye Contact
Hot Manhattan Woman Who Says 'Thank You' When You Hold The Door Open For Her
Black Val Kilmer
Tazmanian Jerk Squirrel
Toupee Gremlin
Allentown Politically-Outspoken Podiatrist (your foot is as crooked as this administration! Now I flee back into the woods!)
The Devil Creek Evil Devil
Tchotchke Up-Your-Nose Night Visitor (Shrek Salt Shaker! Up my nose! Sometime during the night! AAAAAIGH!)
Guy Who Likes Two And A Half Men
The Tangerine Inspector
Captain Parcheesi And His Box Of Mildly Agitated Wasps
Tennesseean Double-Moose
Swamp Walrus
Pack Of Coyotes All Driving Segways

And so forth with the things that are ridiculous!

A conference room. Coffee cups and pizza boxes are strewn across a table, and a large dry erase board dominates one wall. A few tired-looking young men and women pace, stretch, slouch and yawn, tapping pens against notebooks in frustration. This brainstorming session has been dragging on for a while, and it hasn’t been going so well.

On the dry erase board is the heading ‘Catchphrases’, under which there are two columns: ‘Yes’ and ‘Maybe’. Under the ‘Yes’ column is the phrase “You are tossed.” That’s it. There is nothing under ‘Maybe’.

Caption: ‘America’s Top Salad’ Writers Meeting – 1:52am.

The silence is periodically broken:

“Lettuce…watch you…leaf?”

“Two tongs don’t make a right?”

“Carrot…nah.”

“You do not…bowl me over?”

“Bleu cheese dressing? More like boo...cheese. Shit.“

"Did you call this a Cobb Salad because it tastes like Ty Cobb? Because that's what it tastes like. A dead racist."

"You...are...tossed! Oh wait."

"Cucumber? Pukeumber."

"These croutons are more like cruel...tons. Of disappointing...sogginess?"

"I don't think olive another day if I eat more of this salad. Which has olives in it."

"Iceberg lettuce, straight ahead! Is what my taste buds are saying, as they crash into this salad. Killing over a thousand people."

"Tomato. More like...to-no-you-may-not-to."

"Time to give this salad...a dressing down."

(a few tired murmurs of approval)

"Vina...regrette."

"It ain't easy being greens."

"Time to play roughage."

"This tossed salad tastes like I'm tossing someone's salad."

Grab one of Shia LaBeouf's delicious all-beef LaBeouf burgers for just a buck at Mets' All-Beef LaBeouf Day at Shea!

And also, from now on, instead of touche, I am going to say LaBeouf. As in:

"Why did you leave the toilet seat up?"

"You having to lower it down when you go is no different than me having to lift it up when I go!"

(beat)

"LaBeouf."

Shia, if you ever have a son...just consider it. Right? Right? That's a bad ass name.

Tagline at the ready, in case Shia ever does some porn.

Shhhhh! Mmm, tofu.

UPDATE: I just googled this word and it's already everywhere. Dangit.

Legendary porn director Turge Ganymede stares at his notes as he leans against a blackboard on which the art director has written 'History' in white chalk. He looks up and addresses the camera being pointed at him by his assistant director, former adult film star Tan Jammer.

TURGE
This is going to be so hot. I was watching Rodney Dangerfield's classic comedy 'Back To School' the other day and thought "what if Rodney were a hot naked woman having sex with her professor and it wasn't a comedy it was porn". Bingo, the idea for my new website anythingforana.com was born. Not to be confused with that Russian novel, 'Anything for Ana'. Anyhow, the premise is simple: my girls play hot college co-eds who will do anything to get that 'A'. Which means sex of course. We've got some real pendulum studs to play the profs too. It's going to be so hot. In this scene, Storm Cheexxx plays Kylie, the college girl who will do anything etc., and Pole Holefueler plays her history prof. Wait until you see these two in action. He can really pack it in, and she can really take it all like a pro. It's going to be so hot. All they have to do is improvise some perfucktory opening dialogue, set up the premise that she needs an A and will do anything for it, and then boom it's time to hide the ICBM in velvet town. Alright here we go.

Storm and Pole have taken their places - she dressed as a short-skirted college hottie, and he as a tie-wearing nerdy professor with suspiciously tight trousers.

TURGE (continued)
Action!

POLE
You wanted to see -

STORM
You wanted to see me Prof-

TURGE
Cut! Okay guys, it's the student that wanted to see the Professor. Okay? Action!

STORM
Thanks for -

POLE
You wanted to see -

TURGE
Cut! (beat) Action! (points to Storm and holds his hand up in a 'stop' gesture to Pole)

STORM
Thanks for seeing me Professor. I just don't know what to do. I just can't show my face at home unless I get straight A's.

POLE
You...wanted to see me?

(long beat)

TURGE
Keep rolling! Great stuff guys!

STORM
Oh professor, I just didn't know who to turn to. I need that A. I'll do anything for an A.

POLE
Well I don't know, you...got an 84 on your final. That's a B, and -

STORM
Oh please, Professor, isn't there anything I can do to get my grade...up?

(big thumbs up from Turge)

POLE
I don't know, I mean the final was the last test of the year and it wouldn't be fair to the other students.

(Storm unbuttons one button on her shirt)

STORM
Are you sure?

POLE
Yeah, I mean I don't think there's anything I can do.

(Turge shrugs, wtf?)

(Storm rebuttons her shirt)

(beat)

STORM
Um.

TURGE
The heat is palpable! Keep rolling!

POLE
You wanted to see me?

TURGE
Cut!

POLE
But you said keep rolling.

TURGE
That doesn't mean start over.

POLE
I know.

TURGE
Why would the Professor say that again?

(beat)

POLE
Ohhhh. Okay. Got it.

TURGE
And let's get to the point a little faster, okay guys. Sex for an A, right? Right. Aaaaand ACTION.

TO BE CONTINUED...

For too long have the Bronx and lesbians been at war.

Hi, I'm Leonard Frizetto, owner of Frizetto Librettos, the Bronx's foremost purveyor of musical and/or opera scripts. Oh look, here's a first edition of 'South Pacific'. But I am not here today to tout my store's enormous selection of published materials relating to musicals and/or opera. I am here in the capacity of my role as chairman of the Bronx and Lesbian Alliance, a partnership between New York City's fourth best borough and humanity's fourth most interesting lifestyle choice and/or genetic predisposition we're not sure but the point is THIS: for too long have the Bronx and lesbians been at war. For too long have both sides in this endless fray not relented a grumpy, dour, humorless inch of compromise. We here in the Bronx content to shun outsiders as we fret over our zoo and Italian eateries. And the lesbians content to raising their adopted children amongst their giant nests made from canvas, other coarse fabrics, discarded car seats and gnawed pencil fragments again we're not sure I'm just working off of Bronx folklore here. Both sides in their own little worlds, clashing occasionally in fiery battle on the Plains of Jhaznadlagrond, only to suffer heavy casualties and retreat again to their separate strongholds - The Bronx and the great hovering fortress city of Lesberion Cortex. But NOW, my friends, NOW that time has come to announce not just a truce, but a partnership. The Bronx and Lesbian Alliance. Once again shall lesbians be allowed to walk freely in the Bronx, sans explosive anklets, and once again shall Bronxians be allowed to fly their hovermules up to the great fortress city to partake of their quality bookstores and grand selection of coarse fabric emporiums! But don't take my word for it, take Keithanne Corduroy Kleinman-Waxman's word for it!

Hi, I'm Keithanne Corduroy Kleinman-Waxman, high priestess of the great fortress' southwestern soy processing tower. And it is indeed my pleasure to announce an end to hostilities with the Bronx, our new friends below. Finally we lesbians shall enjoy attending major league baseball games at historic Yankee Stadium, though of course we shall remain stalwart supporters of the Lesberion Cortex Curtsies, the best fast-pitch softball team on Earth or Earth Dos.*

Andres du Bouchet here. I know I do this a lot, but I don't really see where this is going, so I'm going to stop writing now. How was everyone's Fourth of July? I installed some nice blinds. They work great - our living room is now much more opaque.

*Earth Dos is a trademark of the Telemundo network. Coming this Fall! Earth Dos - "Y en el octavo día, Dios creó Earth Dos! Si, un otro Earth!"

I want a high-level government job. That way, I could do whatever I want and never face any consequences for my actions. Unless I was appointed chairman of the What Goes Up Must Come Down department. Then, I'd probably run into all sorts of browbeating regarding my lousy track record of things not coming back down once I've sent them up. Seriously though, should I be alarmed that this country is run by people who do whatever they want whenever they want with no checks or balances or ever admitting fault for anything? Zero checks and balances and zero accountability...that's a dictatorship, right? Just typing out loud here. I'm no pundit. I'm a simple man who is seeing the Transformers tonight and then having a beer or two*. It just seems that the 250 million American citizens are a bit of an afterthought for this tiny elite clan of people going about their own business purely for their own personal interests. Anyway, at least our government isn't run by religious funda...what? Oh yeah that's right. I tell ya what, I'll start collecting jugs of purified water and duct-taping knives to baseball bats. You collect firewood. And we should probably Netflix as many post-apocalypse flicks as possible. Let's call our clan 'Fist And Flame'. Dammit, I have plenty of conservative views on things, but I have always been anti-'INCOMPETENT AMORAL DIPSHITS.' I call the six-legged horse.

*four.

It was in 1984 that I met and succumbed to Georgina Laflame, the most accomplished softcore dramatic actress of her era. She and I co-starred in the short-lived 'Armoire Interludes', a show that attempted to bridge the gap between softcore erotic storytelling and furniture refurbishing tips. I played Glans Monotreme, a retired zepellin pilot who'd settled down in a remote coastal town somewhere in Italy, and who wiled away his hours collecting and refurbishing furniture. In each episode, as I lovingly tended to each item and described my refurbishing techniques to the camera, we'd periodically cut away to a softcore erotic story somehow associated with that piece of furniture. I would usually also play a role in those sequences, be it swashbuckler, doctor, or simple hydroponic Mars farmer. At any rate, the episode I most fondly recall was entitled CHERRYWOOD VARNISHING FOR THE NOVICE VARNISHER: HUNGER OF THE MOANING COUNTESS. Georgina was the countess in question, and I was the stable minder entrusted with tending to her steed, Carpaccio. We shared so many half-clothed embraces on camera that soon we were ever-entwined off camera, lapping the sweat off each other's well-toned bodies as the eager toad does lap the desert valley cactiii at dawn. In addition, I did a fantastic job of varnishing a cherrywood bookcase in that episode, using techniques accessible even to the most inexperiences of varnishers. Georgina would later die in a hovercraft accident, along with her then husband Baxter Zillionade, but I shall always remember her as the fake actress that I wrote about while eating peanut M&M's at work. Hello everyone!