NPR: A Critical Satire

Discussion in 'Off Topic' started by Zethor, Sep 14, 2015.

  1. NPR: A Critical Satire, with Zeth Rainbowdusk

    (Cue Sample of Generic Elevator Jazz Music)
    (Stop Sample of Generic Elevator Jazz Music)
    (Enter Annoying Host, with THICK artificial Bostonian/British Accent.)

    Zeth Rainbowdusk: And that was "A Contemplation of the Navel", by Willy and the Deuces, off of their debut album, "Where's the bootleg?"
    "My name is Zeth Rainbowdusk, and this is NPR Public Radio, A Critical Sad Tire. Satire. NPR is funded by:
    Hipsters for Global Implementation of Dairy Free Creamer,

    The National Boring Drive Across New Mexico Committee,

    And Democrats United for Music, (D.U.M.)"

    "In this episode, I interview one of Americas Brightest Young Minds, Talk Dirty with Myself, and join an underground suicide cult. All of his and more, after this."

    (Insert Commercials for Products that you couldn't give but one lonely bother about. Preferably explained in great detail by somebody who clearly has no experience in the matter, e.g. Middle Aged Lumberjack advertising Maxi Pads.)

    (Enter Generic Flute Music, Accompanied by the light sound of rain in the background.)
    (Stop Generic Flute Music. Please.)

    "In America, particularly anywhere but the south, the next generation is rising. It is a generation of young minds, brilliant ones. They have surpassed their schools, colleges, and achieved max levels on WoW, as well as perfecting the art of eating a hot pocket fresh from the microwave, without even the slightest burn."
    "Among these many impressive young adults and minds, one has rose above the rest, achieving greater feats, both in significance and volume. The world is full of bright, big young adults, and Deez Nuts is the biggest."
    "I obtained permission from the father of Deez Nuts, to interview the boy in his home. To Protect his true identity, Deez Nut's real name has been withheld."

    As I enter The Home of Deez Nuts, I a immediately struck by one thing. It is a small place, with a certain amount of gutter charm. There are fresh bicuits cooking in the oven, and I spot Deez Nuts, lounging on the sofa.
    I walk over, my footsteps plodding softly against the cheap linoleum floor. I take seat on the couch, and begn te interview.

    Interviewer: Hello Mister Nuts.

    Deez Nuts: Thank you for coming, Mister Rainbowdusk.

    He is a charmer, a typical teenage boy. Sweat Lines his brow, because he is scared, or because he is simply hot.

    Interviewed: Now, recent results showed that you have entered the election race. Why is this?

    He hesitates for a moment before answering. He says He supposed it is because he was Unhappy with the candidates this year.

    Deez Nuts: I suppose because I was unhappy with the candidates this year.

    And unhappy he is. He explains to me in depth his argument, pointing out the shortcomings of each candidate. It is only when he gets to Hilary Clinton that his argument begins to fall short.

    Deez Nuts: I think that Hilary Clinton has no place in office. She lied about Benghazi, she lied about the emails, etc. She has simply been caught in too many scandals.

    I greet him with a hearty "harrumph".

    Interviewer: Obviously though, she is better than all of the other candidates.

    The misguided boy shakes his head, and grins coyly. He is obviously, only a child, unable to grasp some things, while being right in all others. I decide to change the subject. I ask him about what he wants to do with life. His passion is music, a passion born of listening to music at Hooters from an early age. The innocence of youth is often conveyed in music, giving it such raw emotion.

    Deez Nuts: I want to play Guitar.

    Interviewer: Any specific type of guitar?

    Deez Nuts: Mainly Classic Rock. Seger, The Eagles.

    Funky Music. The type of an era lost. His interest obviously signals back to his childhood, and his yearning for times long spent.
    After talking to him for a while longer, I speak with his mother, a voluptuous woman of impressive girth. She says that she is afraid for His future. A mother's fear.

    The Mother: Deez is an inquisitive young man, but since he started the anti-depressants, he's been better. Before, sometimes he would fly into a rage and...

    She turns away for a moment, trying to blink back the tears she clearly doesn't want me to mention. She is obviously worried for him.

    The Mother: ... He wants to kill himself.

    She finishes.

    The mother: He is such a bright young man, we know he can go far. It's just the getting him there that counts.

    And it does count. She gives her best.

    (Insert Jazz Interlude)

    Next time, on Critical Satire, I join an underground suicide cult. This is Zeth Rainbowdusk, and this is NPR Talk Radio.

    (Play Willy and The Deuces, "Coffee in Winnemuca.", before going to commercials)


    Pt. 2


    (The sound of tribal congas and chanting can be heard)

    "My name is Zeth Rainbowdusk, and this time on Critical Satire, I join a suicide cult."

    (Tribal Congas continue for a moment longer, then stop.)

    "The beauty of life is often unclear, especially when you are desperately looking for religion to cling to. But deep in the swamps of florida, one group of people seem to have found the answer to happiness, and that is, Death."
    "These misguided people have gathered for five years now, doing on tribal rituals, and waiting for the next blue moon, at which point, they will drink fermented swamp water, and die of cholera. I was given the opportunity to witness the ritual. All of this next."

    (Cue sponsors, typically a bunch of no name organizations you don't give a crap about.)

    NPR is sponsored by:

    FFP: Feminine Fruit Punch, for the elegant woman.

    The National Ad Reduction Derivative Society (N.A.R.D.S)

    And, Michael Bloomberg.

    (Tribal Music Again)

    "Deep in the swamps of florida, something strange is going on. Young Men and Women are joining what is now one of the largest suicide cults in America, The Bayou Butt Bumpers. At almost twenty members, they have a sort of society out here, complete with primitive grass huts, and human skulls decorating their walls."
    "The entire camp is buzzing. Tonight is the night. Tonight the Moon Turns blue, and the ceremony begins. Although the details of how they plan to off themselves have been kept secret, it is easy to tell that they are passionate about it."
    "I speak to one man named Cletus for a time. Cletus used to be a construction worker near the swamps, until one day, he says, everything changed.

    Cletus: I was drugged inna this ere swamp by them crazy swamp people. Fer a time, I was genuinely 'fraid, but after they showed me the light, ah came around right nice.

    "Cletus is a heavy built man, obviously due to his years of construction work, killing the environment. He is anxious, that much is plain to see, but he doesn't seem afraid of what lies beyond.

    Interviewer: Are you afraid?

    Cletus: Naw. I fully unnerstand what the sun wants us ta do. Ours is but to obey.

    "After thanking cletus for his time, I notice it has become almost dark. The camp is ecstatic, as the moon can be seen climbing the horizon. Soon they will make the ultimate sacrifice for their religion..."

    (Commercial Break.)

    (Advertisement for BillSchweeny and his Schweeny Balls.)

    (Advertisement imploring you to vote for Hilary Clinton you dirty facist.)

    (Tribal Music)

    "When the moon is at it's highest, the ceremony begins. Two dancers begin thumping congas, while another, a woman in cowgirl boots and booty shorts, begins twirling a torch. When this beautiful display of primitive music is over, the leader of the cult stands up upon their high rock, wearing a grass skirt, and face paint."
    "The man bears a striking resemblance to Jeb Bush, although this is obviously a coincidence. He begins speaking."

    Leader: In One Minute, the Ceremony will begin!

    "He has a manner about him, suggesting a man who knows power. The group around him holds up red solo cups, filled to the brim with bacteria infected swamp water. The Leader begins speaking again."

    Leader: The Moon shall carry our spirits to the Sun, where we shall live forever in eternal fiery harmony, united in running Au Naturale through the burning sun fields."

    "His speech is greeted by a hearty "Hooah." He signals to the moon, then speaks once more."

    Leader: To the Sun!

    "He lifts his cup and drinks deeply from it, as does everybody else, simultaneously. Within several minutes they fall, foaming at the mouth, their eyes blank and vacant. They are dead."
    "Florida housed one of the last pockets of a truly beautiful society, which tonight, finally completed it's journey. I am Zeth Rainbowdusk, and this has been NPR."

    "Next time on Critical Satire, I interview myself, and we talk with a special guest."

    (Generic Elevator Jazz Plays. "Don't be a Boob" by The Ashes of Eden, Album, "Consensual Nudity.")
     
  2. Support/reserved
     
  3. Over Reserved Noodehl.
     
  4. It helps of you read your post out loud in a high voice. Sound slightly stoned, and take short breaths to try and sound more intellectual 
     
  5. I should put that at the top of the post.
     
  6. Being as NPR Reporters are shameless, here's a shameless bump.
     
  7. If I change to title, will they come?
     
  8. you really have a thing for interviews.
     
  9. I do. It's my job.
     
  10. I only came for the hot pockets.
     
  11. (Cue Snooty Highly Affected Liberal NPR voice)
    Hot pockets are the root of life, however, have you thought about what goes into your treat?
    All of this and more up next.
     
  12. No, I have never thought what goes into a hot pocket because I don't eat them.
     
  13. Very entertaining, thank you 
     
  14. Still no interview for me
     
  15. tl;dr.... y make boring threads? Whats up with deez nuts?? Crap is over 20yrs old.. y not come up with sumthing new??
     
  16. One of the advertisements should have been regarding Pete Schweddy and his Schweddy Balls.

    "I hope you enjoy them ladies. My Balls are here for your pleasure."
     
  17. some crusty dough ham and cheese. the cubed ham with cube cheddar cheese. 2:30 mins on high.
     
  18. Y u not kiss my... go jump in a lake.

    :lol:

    By all means, continue to dislike me because you are a petty child. Just um, do it from over there. You're nasteh.
     
  19. If this thread is boring, then it's more like NPR then the OP intended 