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July 01, 2009


Dr, vot can ve do? Ze statuette including ze base is lodged deep in mein bleached white shtinker. Und Ich haff to make! Use heroic measures, already mein eyes are turning brown. Und vot makes the fire into ze fryingpan jump: It’s not mein Oscar! Helen Mirren vants it back.

If Ich vasn’t in danger of peritonitis, Ich vould haff to laff.

Dr? . . .Zo. Do I understand you? You vant to send a second gerbil mit ein lasso? Up mein arschenhalle? To lasso ze Oscar? So ve can pull it out mit ze come-along? . . .Okay. You’re ze Dr!

Dr? Can you give me zumzing for ze discomfort? Not ze gerbil of course, but ze come-along. Ich am not used to hydraulic machines up in ze higher altitudes.

(sfx cell phone) Allo? Helen? . . . Ja, Ich habst ze statue.  . . .Ja it’s in a safe place.   . . .No. No one can touch it but me. . . Ja? You vant to come by und pick it up? . . Can I put you on hold?