Trent Joins the PGA
Voiceover : And now, we take you live to the seventy-sixth annual
Masters' PGA tournament. It's a nice sunny day here in Scottsdale,
Arizona, and we're looking forward to some great golfing action...
:We see the traditional 'flyover shot' of the golf course. The
:golfing spectators have assembled themselves in the sun to see the
:finest golfers in the country compete to see who is the very best of
:the best. They have no fucking idea what is about to happen.
Marv: "Hi, folks, Marv Albert here with guest announcer Jim McKay.
We're going to be bringing you the coverage today from here in sunny
Arizona. Beautiful golfing weather, isn't it Jim?"
Jim: "That's right Marv. We couldn't ask for a better treat from
Mother Nature. It's beautiful out there today. And, oh, I think we're
ready for the announcements..."
:We see another flyover of the course. The camera continues over the
:parking lot. In among the Rollses and Mercedeses and Lexii is a
:suspicious looking Greyhound bus. The license plate reads "Halo 0,"
:the destination sign reads "Fist Things First" and the top of the
:bus has a message spelled out on it in masking tape. "Steve Gottlieb
:can Suck My..." The camera quickly blacks out...
Fade in to the happy face of Kathie Lee Gifford, who for some
inexplicable reason has been assigned to provide color commentary
for the day's events.
Kathie: "Hi folks!! Welcome to the Masters' Tournament! Reege would
have been here, but he's waxing Joey Bishop. Instead, I'm going to
sing a song!"
Her face changes to a look of consternation as she taps at her
earpiece. "Uh oh, folks... it seems we're a little short of time!
They tell me we don't have time for the whole presentation, so I'm
just going to make the best of it! Come on, Cody... Sing with
Mommy!" She scoops up her precious little button-nosed precocious
wunderkid into her arms and begins singing over a treacly melody.
Kathie: "Have you EVER heard the fox sing to the blue corn moooooon,
have you ever heard the woodchuck making looooooove..."
Over Kathie Lee's shoulder, we see a black-clad figure mosey up to
the soundman's equipment rack. A crisp $50 changes hands, and the
soundman wanders off in search of button-nosed female caddies. The
mysterious stranger goes to work...
Kathie: "Memmmmmmmmmrieeeeeees, in the corners of my
miiiiiiiiiind... misty water-colored meeeeeeeeeee *snikt* "
There is a moment of silence. The audio is gone. But just as
quickly, it returns. Only this time, something is different. There
is an ominous low-Hz rumble to Kathy Lee's vocals. She looks a bit
perturbed, and shoots a glance at the "soundman." He tweaks a knob.
The rumble is gone, and Kathie is happy. He begins to walk off, but
spins back around to quickly snap a metal tag from the side of the
box he has just wired into the system. He folds the tag in half and
tosses it into the crowd as he strides away. A muffled "ouch" is
heard from the gallery. Then, a voice - "Hey! What's this
'Property of M.C. Death' thing..."
Suddenly, all audio hell breaks loose. Frequencies that were just
never meant to appear on network TV come rumbling out of the course
P.A. system. Horrible, shrieking sounds (not unlike those being put
out by Kathie Lee herself) roll across the distant greens and
dissipate into the surrounding woods, lakes, and frightened
wildlife. Several onlookers find religion, property values in the
area drop 5% immediately, and a spectator's poodle bursts into
flames in her arms.
:The camera pans away from Kathie Lee, who has now dropped the
:microphone on the ground in horror. The picture begins to fade,
:but not before we see Mister Manson steal into the shot. The
:picture abruptly comes back to full strength, and a thunderous beat
:comes crashing from the speakers. As the Reverend begins a
:singalong of "Cake and Sodomy", we are ALL shocked as Kathie Lee
:tears her hear out of its sensibly arranged 'do and joins the Rev
:in the song. As they duet on "white trash get down on your knees"
:she whips a tube of Maybelline's finest out of her pocket and
:begins to smear her lips in a familiar pattern. As Twiggy comes in
:from offscreen and pops a witches' hat down on Kathie Lee's head,
:Mister Manson breaks out in a beautifully menacing grin and gobs on
:a spectator. He reaches into his trousers, and we cut to another
:helicopter shot that comes down onto the announcers' stand.
Voiceover: ABC Sports is, um, now proud to present the final lineup for
the seventy-sixth annual Masters' tournament. Here's Jim...
:The camera descends to show five equally tanned, equally dressed,
:and most likely equally drunken men grinning and standing in a row.
:Jim McKay is standing in front of them...
Jim: "Thanks folks. I'm pleased to show you today's lineup. First,
we have nine-time champion Arnold Palmer. Next, we have Fuzzy
Zoeller, who we only invited because we enjoy saying "Fuzzy" on the
air. Also we have Lee Trevino, Chi-Chi Rodriguez, Jack Nicklaus,
and..."
:There is a bit of commotion offscreen. The row of men is shoved
:over one space, and an oddly familiar head pops into view beside
:them.
Jim: "Well, it seems that we have a a late addition to the lineup -
a Mr... um... Trent Rizn... Rozwell.. um... Ronco... er...
Rin-tin..."
Trent: "That's 'Reznor,' man...
Jim: "Trent Raisin! He's just won the... er... (whispering) What
was it you won, son?"
Trent: (Whispers in Jim's ear)
Jim: "Mr. Tim Roastbeef here has just won the Foster's Classic
tounament that was held out in Mercy, Pennsylvania last week! Tell
me, son, how does it feel to be the youngest man ever to play in the
Masters?"
Trent: "It's Trent, man. And it's Reznor. And it's Mercer and it's the
Fister's classic and why don't you tell me how it feels to be the
oldest man to have my damned CLUB up your..."
:We quickly cut to Marv Albert, who is in the announcer's booth
:looking down on the lineup. Marv has his back to us. He has been
:distracted by a mild ruckus on the green. As he whirls to face the
:camera, we can see over his shoulder as Trent argues with a man in
:a hideous green jacket. The man waggles a hammy digit in Trent's face
:and Trent gives him the finger. As the man sputters and fumes,
:Trent stalks off dragging his bag of clubs behind him.
Marv: "Umm. Er. We're just about ready for the teeing off today. The
weather is just beautiful and... um...
:At the bottom of the screen, Marv's hand is twisting furiously. He
:is giving what has to be the "Go the hell to a commercial" sign. We
:do just that. A girl appears on screen asking her mother if she
:ever has that "Not so fresh feeling."
:We return to the show as the men have lined up for the teeing off.
:The Masters have lined up on the green quietly. The Master is
:stalking behind them, obviously impatient.
Jim: "Well, folks, as soon as all the preparations get squared away we'll
get started here. I can see that the course veterans are getting ready
to use every trick in the book...
:In the background, the "course veterans" are stumbling around the tees.
:They're squinting into the sun and tossing blades of grass into the wind
:and desperately seeking magnetic north with their pacemakers. Trent, it
:seems, has had enough...
Trent: "Oh, FUCK this... fuck THIS and THAT and YOU and let's get this
motherfucking show on the ROAD... (at this point, he makes the sound that
he made right at the beginning of 'Something I can Never Have' at Woodstock.
Remember that sound? It was something like AAAAARRRRIUUUURAAAGGGH!!!)
He throws his head forward, propping his leg on a monitor speaker that just
isn't there, and shrieks "FORE, you BASTARDS!!"
:Trent flings a ball onto the ground next to the Masters' tees. He takes
:a wicked, flailing swing at the ball, connects solidly, and sends it
:hurtling down the course. Just as he slams his club back into his bag,
:a golf cart screeches to a stop next to him. It's piloted by none other
:than Robin, who has elected to wear a pirate's hat and an eyepatch for
:this particular adventure. Trent leaps into the cart and grabs the wheel
:as Robin floors the accelerator. They peel out in a cloud of exhaust and
:grass clippings...
