a radio play

by Bethany Markewich Cooper Sam and Sam Cooper Markewich Bethany

Announcer: [news music] A rag. A bone. A hank of hair. They may seem unrelated to you the putrid, sub-human, doo-doo-for brains- poor-excuse-for an audience. stay tuned to W.E.F.T. for An Ancient Affair. (commercial)

Announcer: Hello, I'm Methusalah Povich, and thank you for joining us this week on An Ancient Affair. And what an exciting week it's been as we traveled back in time to fabulous prehistoric Waikiki beach. Yes, lovely ladies of every description that still fits into the paradigm of what I would have you believe is lovely have been sunning themselves here for literally millions of years. But the buxom cave women you see here, scantilly clad in fur bikinis, are not the reason we've traveled back in time to what we here at the show like to call the babe-o-zoic era. heh heh. heh. ( gets carried away with own sense of humor.) that's a good one. babe-o-zoic. heh. No, these women literally ready to bust out of their swimwear, I mean, honest to god, you wouldn't believe it, have little to do with the real topic of today's show,--a grave matter at best. The stage here today is real life, the story--well,the heiroglyphics are on the wall, so to speak. (cue sentimental music) Waikiki beach was a quiet neighborhood in 5,000 b.c., It was safe for children to play with the now-extinct giant winged reptiles that roamed the land, and literally thousands of women of unsurpassed pulchritude lay about, half-naked. It was really like that. I swear. There was free money for everyone and the dance-grottoes stayed open all night. That is, until the Ug-wa family moved in...[dramatic music]

family: we ug- was. [grunts ensue]

old ug-wa: we do big meanie. ha ha.

[sound of really terrible things happening. utter cacophony.williams gross noise maybe]

Announcer: Well, as you can see, the results weren't pretty. I 'm shaking my head in utter disappointment at the foul stench of humanity as we know it. It just really gives me gas to know that this kind of thing was permitted to happen. Field reporter Rumple W. Stiltskin will be back after this commercial with the story of a crime of such magnitude that you will literally puke your guts out right there in the easy chair. no kidding. (commercial)

Announcer: It was the scandal of the Eon, and Ancient Affair's Rumple W. Stiltskin was there some four million years ago at the beginning of it all.

Stiltskin: It has been hailed as the beginning of it all, but few people know of the smelly underbelly which lines this historic moment. The untold anguish, the long suffered ulcers, the break up that would start all break ups. And it was explosive, explosive I tell you. I know. I was there. And so, of course, were the babes. Tiny micro-organic ladies clad in micro-biological bickini's swarmed the beaches of the primordial soup. Imean look at the protons on that one... [drifts off, gets back on track, clears throat] When planets collide watch out, but when an entire universe forms, that's a scandal. The Ancient York Times called it "The Royal Blow Out." News Eon called it "The Scandal to Start all Scandals."

[romantic music] Lady and Prince Subatomic Nuclei had a solid bond when they met. There was enough gravitational force between them to become the basis of a massively dense relationship. The two were so tight it was as if they were one. So close was their bond that nothing could tear the two apart. Or so they thought. But then things began to change, and Lady Nuclei began to feel trapped, closed in.

Lady Nuclei: I feel trapped, closed in...

Stiltskin: In public she was the center of attention, but in private the Royal particles were shrouded in the darkness that surrounded them.

Prince Nuclei: Lady Nuclei, we're shrouded in the darkness that surrounds us and we're slowly moving away from each other.

Stiltskin: Slowly, they were moving away from each other. It had to end, and it did. But the vicious collision which would ensue nobody--even the Royal Subatomic Nuclei themselves--even the fabulously well proportioned young micro-organic women in microscopic bikinis --could have been prepared for. Over the next few million years the anger of both nuclei built up, transforming each into an impenitrabley dense body of matter.

Lady N.: get your hands off me, you protozoan pervert.

Prince N: shove it through your membrane, you dumb broad.

The two grew increasingly distant, and then, in a flash of brilliant light--which turned out later to be not all that brilliant after all--the two Royal particles would meet one last time in an explosive rage which created a vacuity out of which the universe has never escaped. I know. I was there. And so of course were the babes. Back to you Methusela.