(Impersonating John F. Kennedy) Hello, I’m Big Pete. (canned applause). Because I am. (canned guffaws). Give me a feel, ladies and gentlemen. You give me a feeling and I want to share it. God’s heavy hand reaches earthwards and the deep and quiet waters rage upon the land. (canned chickens clucking. voice that shifts to that of Richard Nixon). Fingers of fog thicken. Mountains bristle. (back to Kennedy). Stars burn defiantly above, but we are asleep, compliant, dreaming of crotch. In the black marsh (Nixon again), frog upon frog upon frog (now Kennedy) objects, until God (Nixon now), nowhere to be seen (Kennedy), relents. (Big Pete hooks his right arm around his ass from behind and straining his right hand out and upwards to about penis-level grabs his balled left hand and shakes it vigourously). Inevitably— (canned rooster crowing. Nixons voice and mannerisms seize control: e.g. shoulders hunch, arms wave, jowls quiver like Jell-O, mouth breaks a Mona Lisa smile)… from out of a raddening vortex, day which besmears all. (canned work whistle). Spring mellows into summer, and this is spring. I’m basting in this tux, but what the hell, it’s what we all deserve. Touch me, ladies and gentlemen. What I’ve got you can’t contract, and it’s a big one.
