FRANKIE
This is Frankie 4 A.M. in the studio, so don’t be rudio. I am live with a special guest. You all think about him when you’re lying there alone: he’s the merchant of death, he’ll take your breath away—literally.
Put your hands together and give it up for the man who’ll make you a permanent sleeper—it’s the big guy in the hood, the Grim Reaper.
(Sound of audience applause.)
Hey Grim—may I call you Grim?—thanks for coming by. I know you’re a busy man…er, entity. And you’re very tall. The pictures do not do you justice.
(Beat.)
So, uh…Mr. Reaper, how does it feel to be the taker of lives, the stealer of souls, the harbinger of doom?
(Long pause.)
The silence is really scary—and I mean really scary, but…
(Beat.)
Uh—the finger wagging in my direction is about to make me wet my pants, but nobody can see it.
(Beat.)
This is radio! You can’t gesture silently on the radio!
(Beat.)
We’re going to go to a commercial, and hope we can get a word, any word, after the break.
(There’s a musical interlude, one of Frankie’s cheesy radio fill-ins. Trying to disguise his voice)
It’s been called ergonomic. The chef’s ultimate weapon. Four inches of drop dead sexy. But don’t take our word for it that this four inch tower of chopping and peeling power will give your knife life the edge it’s been missing. Ask our customers.
(As the First Customer:)
I love this knife. It couldn’t peel a boiled potato, but it looks so beautiful.
(As the Second Customer:)
If I had a kid that was as bad as this knife, I’d kick his lazy butt out of the house and change the locks.
(As the Third Customer:)
Thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you…for making such crappy knives.