The writers of "Lost" re-write the Bible story of Noah: Pt. 1

We open on Noah, startled awake on a pile of straw. He is surrounded by a bizarre menagerie. He stumbles around what appears to be stable after stable inhabited by tigers, moose, anacondas, chinchillas and the like. He catches the glimpse of a figure passing in the distance from one stable to the next. Noah chases after the figure, but when he gets to the stable where he saw it enter, there is only a pair of wolves mating. He turns to look out a nearby window and sees nothing but a vast ocean and pouring rain.

(Whoosh)

Noah is younger and sitting in his tent, drawing crude pictures of what will eventually be the ark. His youngest son Japheth enters and tells his father that he is ready for a second wife. Noah discusses the possibility of marrying Ham's oldest daughter, as there are no other people on the planet at this time, except the evil-doers who will soon be drowned.

(Whoosh)

Mrs. Noah is on the ark, trying to recapture a pair of black widow spiders that got loose. Noah enters the scene and Mrs. Noah scolds him for being drunk and passing out. Noah tells her he had the dream again about the colorful streaks in the sky. Mrs. Noah tells him to go shovel the rhinoceros diarrhea.

Ham shoots down Japheth's idea of using the birds' eggs as food for other animals. Ham is rather curt with Japheth. When Japheth leaves, Ham goes and makes out with a camel.

(Whoosh)

Ham is yelling at his Noah about the giving of his daugther to Japheth. Noah tries to reason with Ham that he has given Ham more cloaks and concubines than Japheth over the past few years and that Ham shouldn't take offense at this. Ham storms off.

(Whoosh)

Sham's wife tells him that he is by far the smartest man on the boat and should be in charge. Sham at first rejects this idea, but starts to consider it once his wife tells him that she had a dream that Sham lead the boat to safety.

(Whoosh)

Sham is tracking the path of a shadow of some sticks he's planted in the dirt. Ham comes up and kicks them away and mocks Sham's weak stature and tells Sham what a loser Sham is. Ham brags to Sham that he's twelve and now old enough to marry his ten year old sister. Sham tells Ham he is a brute. Ham punches Sham and starts beating him until Mrs. Noah breaks it up.

(Whoosh)

Noah walks through the stalls at night, checking on all the animals. Japheth comes to him and tells him he feels bad for taking Ham's daughter as his wife. Noah tells him it's okay. Japheth leaves.

Noah notices the figure in the distance again. He runs to catch up to it. When he gets there, he sees a man. When Noah asks who he is, the man replies that he is one of the "evil-doers" who almost drowned. When Noah tries to remove the man, he tells Noah that he better not tell anyone about him or he will kill everyone aboard.

"Noah"

"Sound of Music" director's cut, if the director is a 7th grade boy

1. The scene where Christopher Plummer slaps Leisl on the ass with the book.

2. The line where the Baroness tells Christopher Plummer that she's known for throwing some rather "gay" parties.

3. The line in "My Favorite Things" where Julie Andrews asks the children what their favorite things are, and one of the kids yells "Pussywillows!"

4. Anytime sometime calls Christopher Plummer's character name, Georg, which is pronounced "Gay-org."

5. The line that Max has where he asks the kids "What's wrong with you bunch of gloomy pusses?"



Total running time of director's cut, not including pause for laughter and follow-up jokes :23 seconds.

From the Diary of Samuel W. Thornchesterworthingbergerton the 23rd of Dec., 1899

A merry Yuletide to all!

As this year draws his last gasps, I feel a matter of great import must be disclosed: namely, our Christmas letter. So sit back with your tea, coffee, or glass of absinthe, and enjoy reliving some fantastic moments in our year.

For starters, my son, Uriah, returned home from the war with the Spaniards. Although my great luxury afforded him a position well out of combat, we are nonetheless grateful for his safe return. Puzzlingly enough, he brought home a war comrade named Ernest, who rarely leaves his side. War has certainly brought these two gentlemen together. Why, one day, I found them in our pantry and Ernest was trying to help Uriah with the buttons on his pantaloons. Those two will have many days with their future wives and families to reminiscence about their war days.

On a sour note, my daughter has eloped with a common "newsie" as they are called. It seems she was rather emotionally invested in their strike over the summer. "Damn the lot of them!" I say. I was a newsie as a lad and was beaten with sticks if my yelling ceased for longer than three seconds and it made me the man I am today! I am never quiet for more than three seconds at a time. Our daughter has married him and is living in utter squalor on the east side of the city. "Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Disgraceful daughter disowned by noble father!" I always have the last laugh!

My wife, Helene, had a scare earlier this year when she nearly choked on a biscuit. However, thanks to the whalebone corset holding her waist at an admirable 14 inch circumference, we were able to extract the rogue morsel and help her regain consciousness. She still has trouble navigating corners and doors, but for the most part is well on the road to recovery!

A new marvelous zoo has opened up in the Bronx, and we are quite fond of taking family trips to observe the tiger, the ape, and the elephant. I suggested to Helene that their zoo would be incomplete without her mother on display. I spoke this quite loudly (using my "newsie" voice) and drew quite a few chuckles from the crowd. Helene, had she truly understood my sarcasm (another side-effect of not breathing for several minutes), would've been very upset, but merely said she didn't think her mother would appreciate being hosed down for her morning bath.

Our year has had its ups and downs, and as we near the end of the century, many are predicting doom and the apocalypse. However, I say let it come! And take that bastard William McKinley with it!

Glorious yule!

S.W.T.

Celebrity Dictionary, Vol. 2

LaBeouf (Shia LaBeouf) - (n) The hair that accumulates in a hair brush. "Dude, you must be going bald, because I pull so much LaBeouf out of the brush when you're done with it."

Gambon (Michael Gambon) - (n) The word for the stool which an outfield batboy sits on when not warming up with an outfielder. "Ken Griffey made such a poor throw, it hit the batboy's gambon and broke it. He will have to sit in the dirt now."

Gyllenhaal (Maggie or Jake Gyllenhaal) - 1. (n) a book or binder specifically used by an adolescent boy to hide an erection. 2. (v) The act of using a book or binder to hide an erection. "Look, dude! Either Byron's reading 'The Color Purple' for the eleventh time this week, or he's Gyllenhaaling again."

Duchovny (David Duchovny) - (adj.) Equal feelings of sexual arousal and nausea. "There's something about Kiera Knightly's jaw that is just so Duchovny. It's weird."

Theron (Charlize Theron) - (n) The shreds of toilet paper left on a roll that is empty. "My lady took a dump and then just left a bunch of therons on the roll. Didn't even bother to change it."

Rejected Scripts for On-Line Match.com ads

1. Girl in business attire sitting at home office. Coyly playing with a pencil in her mouth. Types. Smiles. Giggles. Removes glasses. Then removes glass eye.

2. Girl in low cut sweater, sipping coffee at computer. Makes a face at her coffee. Stares out the window. Picks up a stack of papers and rifles through them. Smiles. Giggles. Watches computer. Lights up a cigarette. Looks off into the distance. Takes another sip from her lukewarm coffee and says, "Don't worry Maroney. We'll find the son of a bitch that killed you. I know he's out there." Undoes her ponytail.

3. Girl in button up shirt "discovers" her computer and web-cam. Types. Smiles. Giggles. Takes out small revolver. Spins chamber. Puts it to her head and pulls the trigger. Giggles. Types. Giggles. Takes out lip-stick and writes backwards on screen "Green June Uriah." Giggles. Types. Giggles. Takes off shirt to reveal pink tank-top. Lights a candle and holds her arm over the flame. Makes pouty lips.

2. Girl on sofa, clearly passed out. Wakes up. Vomits. Looks into webcam with bloodshot eyes and the vacuous stare of someone trying to piece the previous night together. Small horse wearing top hat enters the background.

Letters to Dr. House

Dear Dr. House,

I am a caucasian male, 42. I suffer from a variety of symptoms that include anal bleeding, crooked eyebrow, and jelly knee. Can you help me? My condition is preventing from living my life-long dream of being appealing.

Sincerely,

Greg in DesMoines

Dear Greg,

I am not a doctor. I am an actor who plays a doctor for a fictional t.v. drama, which airs Mondays nights on FOX. I can do nothing to help your disgusting condition. However, it just so happens that "jelly knee" is the featured disease on next weeks episode, so please make sure you and all your friends watch it. Now please leave me alone.

Dr. House

*************************************************************************************

Dear Dr. House,

Help me, I'm dying! At least I think I'm dying. I am a twenty-four year old woman and yes, I am over-weight. I want lipo-suction, but my doctor tells me it would put me at a major health risk as I am a heavy bleeder. Please save me!

Tammy, Athens (Georgia)

Dear Tammy,

I don't know how you got my address, especially since you believe me to be Dr. House who has a fictional address on the hit t.v. show airing Monday nights on FOX. However, you sound nice. Maybe you should focus on your personality. Also, if you ever lose the weight, please send your old clothes to my friend Pedro. He's an artist who's doing this installation and he needs fat people clothing. It's hard to explain, you really just need to see it. Just send them when you stop being fat.

Sincerely,

Dr. House
*************************************************************************************

Dear Dr. House,

I am an 8-year old boy who has a rare disorder. My parents tell me I am cursed by god. Can I come stay at your hospital so you can solve my case at the last possible second with some treatment that breaks all the rules and beats all the odds?

Sincerely,

Eric, Chicago

Dear Eric,

Is your mom hot?

Sincerely,

Dr. House

If You Love Me, You'll Drink A Glass of My Urine

Hey, babe. Just lettin' you know how much the past eight days have meant to me. I knew from the first moment I saw you at that "Jonas Brothers" concert that I had to hook up with you. I think it's time we took our relationship to the next level. Don't get me wrong. That time we got it on at the thrift store I work at, on that pile of pillow shams was special for me, too. But I'm talking about a degree of intimacy that few people achieve: I want you to drink my urine.

You know I would do anything for you. That's why I'm going to attempt to not drink as many Monster drinks nor eat as much cauliflower, in preparation for the day or evening when you prove your feelings for me by chugging a cup of my very own lemonade.

I know recently we've had our problems. And again, I want to say how I didn't know that girl was sixteen, nor did I know we just happened to be in your backyard. But I would say that coming off that meth-binge when you said you'd never speak to me again more than proved my love for you. It wasn't pretty. Trust me. I would've much rather drank a cup of my own urine than having the shits, throwing up and hallucinating about fucking Yogi Bear and having my step-mom be there to clean it all up.

If you want, I can drop some science on you so you feel better about doing it. There's some dudes that piss on their hands before baseball games so they don't have to wear gloves. And in some cultures, the drinking of ones urine is like taking a blood oath. Just be glad I'm not asking you to drink my blood, because that'd be gross.

I will also make myself available to drink a cup of your urine. I will do it. Remember that time you had your period and I had to go to the bathroom after you and I saw your tampon in the trash? That's almost as bad, nay, worse, than drinking urine. So it looks like you owe me one and since I don't menstruate, this is the only option.

By the way, I won't be kissing you on the mouth for at least 48 hours after the drinking of said urine, but I will be at Wal-Mart, picking up a dvd copy of "Sisterhood of the Traveling Whatevers" because I remember you saying you liked it.