Festive acknowledgements! I am K-Max, the Christmas puck!
"Well, ain't he a whimsical imp? Don't he just make ya wanna smiiiiiile?"
As is tradition at this time of year, boys and girls across the known world are praying that a moist souvenir shall be bequeathed upon them by the being known as Bewhiskered Babak.
So damp are his souvenirs. So moist are they...
Soon I shall visit the children in their beds, and puzzle them with my warped contortions and strangled honks, before retreating to the comfort of my Noble Van.
Regardless, today is the most important Christmas day of all, for today is the day that I bestow upon you the traditional Digitiser Christmas Pant-Oh! This year: Farting (Sleeping) Beauty. All together now... He's behind you!
"Who is?"
The Zodiac Killer!
"Well, ain't he a whimsical imp? Don't he just make ya wanna smiiiiiile?"
As is tradition at this time of year, boys and girls across the known world are praying that a moist souvenir shall be bequeathed upon them by the being known as Bewhiskered Babak.
So damp are his souvenirs. So moist are they...
Soon I shall visit the children in their beds, and puzzle them with my warped contortions and strangled honks, before retreating to the comfort of my Noble Van.
Regardless, today is the most important Christmas day of all, for today is the day that I bestow upon you the traditional Digitiser Christmas Pant-Oh! This year: Farting (Sleeping) Beauty. All together now... He's behind you!
"Who is?"
The Zodiac Killer!
SCENE 1: POSH CASTLE
A newborn baby is crying in her mother's arms. The name of this babe? Why, it's Sleeping Beauty!
SLEEPING BEAUTY'S MOTHER: Yeah-yeah-yoh! Whoo! Check you out - you've just been born, and I'm still off my face on the gas! Trappa-trap-trapp!
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Okay then.
Some stuff happens, and then a big fairy appears in the room. She looks like a cross between, I dunno, Big Daddy and a moth, or something.
FAIRY GODMOTHER: Salutations! I am Sleeping Beauty's very own fairy godmother. My name? It is Hairy Mary Foreskin VIII.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Ha ha ha!
FAIRY GODMOTHER: Please. It is very cruel to laugh at a person's name. That's a known thing!
SLEEPING BEAUTY: I'm sorry. It's just... your name - it's the lewdest I've ever heard!
FAIRY GODMOTHER: It is a traditional family name. Would you like to hear about some of my ancestors who also had this name?
SLEEPING BEAUTY: I have no interest in that.
The Fairy Godmother starts clenching and unclenching her jaw, jutting out her chin at Sleeping Beauty, and making weird squawks at the back of her throat. This carries on for 90 seconds (approximately).
FAIRY GODMOTHER: Listen up, kid. I am here to give you an enchanting gift.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Cool! I love presents, I presume.
FAIRY GODMOTHER: It's the best gift of all: the gift of beauty!
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Is it real beauty, or is it a trick, like when you say to a minging person that it doesn't matter, because they're beautiful on the inside? That doesn't help anybody. What a load of old bollocks.
FAIRY GODMOTHER: It's no trick, Sleeping Beauty. You're going to blossom into the most physically beautiful girl in the world (following a difficult puberty, and a year in hospital to fix curvature of the spine).
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Bare wicked, brah!
FAIRY GODMOTHER: Right. Done that. I'm off now.
SLEEPING BEAUTY (sarcastically): Bye then.
The Fairy Godmother scuttles out of the window, and up the wall, her limbs making a sickening clacking noise against the brickwork.
A newborn baby is crying in her mother's arms. The name of this babe? Why, it's Sleeping Beauty!
SLEEPING BEAUTY'S MOTHER: Yeah-yeah-yoh! Whoo! Check you out - you've just been born, and I'm still off my face on the gas! Trappa-trap-trapp!
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Okay then.
Some stuff happens, and then a big fairy appears in the room. She looks like a cross between, I dunno, Big Daddy and a moth, or something.
FAIRY GODMOTHER: Salutations! I am Sleeping Beauty's very own fairy godmother. My name? It is Hairy Mary Foreskin VIII.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Ha ha ha!
FAIRY GODMOTHER: Please. It is very cruel to laugh at a person's name. That's a known thing!
SLEEPING BEAUTY: I'm sorry. It's just... your name - it's the lewdest I've ever heard!
FAIRY GODMOTHER: It is a traditional family name. Would you like to hear about some of my ancestors who also had this name?
SLEEPING BEAUTY: I have no interest in that.
The Fairy Godmother starts clenching and unclenching her jaw, jutting out her chin at Sleeping Beauty, and making weird squawks at the back of her throat. This carries on for 90 seconds (approximately).
FAIRY GODMOTHER: Listen up, kid. I am here to give you an enchanting gift.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Cool! I love presents, I presume.
FAIRY GODMOTHER: It's the best gift of all: the gift of beauty!
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Is it real beauty, or is it a trick, like when you say to a minging person that it doesn't matter, because they're beautiful on the inside? That doesn't help anybody. What a load of old bollocks.
FAIRY GODMOTHER: It's no trick, Sleeping Beauty. You're going to blossom into the most physically beautiful girl in the world (following a difficult puberty, and a year in hospital to fix curvature of the spine).
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Bare wicked, brah!
FAIRY GODMOTHER: Right. Done that. I'm off now.
SLEEPING BEAUTY (sarcastically): Bye then.
The Fairy Godmother scuttles out of the window, and up the wall, her limbs making a sickening clacking noise against the brickwork.
A grisly old crone bursts into the room, waving her arms around, and repeatedly doffing her black, pointed, hat, and licking the tip of her hooked nose. She's SO furious!
EVIL WITCH: What's going on? Why wasn't I invited to this party?
In her rage, The Evil Witch bursts a fruit with her bare hand.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: It's not a party, you ruddy kook; it's my birth.
EVIL WITCH: If it isn't a party, then why is there a big red balloon?
SLEEPING BEAUTY: FFS, you enormous stupid moron. You cackling ruddy great fool! That's my umbilical cord and placenta. Wibble-wobble! Anyway, if there was a party, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be invited, because you look like you're an evil witch, and according to your nametag you're also called Evil Witch, which doesn't help to inspire confidence.
EVIL WITCH: Yes, that's a real big downer, but raises many interesting questions. Now I'm going to do a spell, and it will be this spell: on your 16th birthday you will be pricked, and die!
SLEEPING BEAUTY: I'm very sorry to hear that. Also: I beg your pardon? P... puh-pricked? What do you mean precisely? You'll have to excuse me, but I've just been born and language is very new to me.
The evil witch mewls twice, waves her magic wand around between her knees, scuttles back and forth like a crab, and then a magic thing happens.
EVIL WITCH: The spell is done now. Goodbye!
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Smell you later, duuuude!
Evil Witch the evil witch slithers out of the window, snorting and bellowing.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Well, that was the second most unusual thing that has ever happened to me. I can't wait for my 16th birthday!
SLEEPING BEAUTY'S MOTHER: Help... I've just given birth. Can somebody please attend (in a medical sense) to my ravaged chuff!?
EVIL WITCH: What's going on? Why wasn't I invited to this party?
In her rage, The Evil Witch bursts a fruit with her bare hand.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: It's not a party, you ruddy kook; it's my birth.
EVIL WITCH: If it isn't a party, then why is there a big red balloon?
SLEEPING BEAUTY: FFS, you enormous stupid moron. You cackling ruddy great fool! That's my umbilical cord and placenta. Wibble-wobble! Anyway, if there was a party, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be invited, because you look like you're an evil witch, and according to your nametag you're also called Evil Witch, which doesn't help to inspire confidence.
EVIL WITCH: Yes, that's a real big downer, but raises many interesting questions. Now I'm going to do a spell, and it will be this spell: on your 16th birthday you will be pricked, and die!
SLEEPING BEAUTY: I'm very sorry to hear that. Also: I beg your pardon? P... puh-pricked? What do you mean precisely? You'll have to excuse me, but I've just been born and language is very new to me.
The evil witch mewls twice, waves her magic wand around between her knees, scuttles back and forth like a crab, and then a magic thing happens.
EVIL WITCH: The spell is done now. Goodbye!
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Smell you later, duuuude!
Evil Witch the evil witch slithers out of the window, snorting and bellowing.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Well, that was the second most unusual thing that has ever happened to me. I can't wait for my 16th birthday!
SLEEPING BEAUTY'S MOTHER: Help... I've just given birth. Can somebody please attend (in a medical sense) to my ravaged chuff!?
INT. BIRTHDAY PARTY
A grand, royal ball - and amid it all, Sleeping Beauty is flossing in time to the music.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Peng bananas, mandem! It's my sixteenth birthday, and I am on a big man ting. I am now able to legally join a trade union and fly a glider! Also, I have 432 followers on Instagram, and last week one of the actors from Riverdale liked my comment when I posted on their Story, and I've seen every episode of Queer Eye on Netflix.
There's, like, a big puff of smoke and the Evil Witch appears.
EVIL WITCH: I'm back!
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Oh Christ! I'd forgotten all about everything that happened the day I was born.
EVIL WITCH: Remember what I said about you getting pricked and dying?
SLEEPING BEAUTY: I do now, yeah.
EVIL WITCH: Well, I was going to come over here and say that I'd had a change of heart, but now I can see you're having a party without me again. So, forget it.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Why are you always getting annoyed about not being invited to parties? We don't even know you.
EVIL WITCH: It is what it is.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Can I introduce you to Jobrieth? He sits next to me in maths. Perhaps you could put a curse on him instead?
JOBRIETH: I don't mind.
There's another one of those big puff of smoke things and the Fairy Godmother crawls out of a vent.
FAIRY GODMOTHER: Not so fast. I am Hairy Mary Foreskin.
EVIL WITCH: Ha ha ha!
FAIRY GODMOTHER: Please...
EVIL WITCH: You were saying...?
FAIRY GODMOTHER: I am going to use my own magic powers to water-down your spell. Instead of dying from the prick -
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Ha ha ha!
FAIRY GODMOTHER: - she will sleep for a thousand years! At the very least!
SLEEPING BEAUTY: What the ruddy fudge?!? That's almost as bad! Who even knows what state the world'll be in by then? There may be Morlocks, or other twisted evolutionary generatives! Couldn't you have watered it down in some other way, like giving me a vestigial conjoined twin called Bulgy-Boy XII?
FAIRY GODMOTHER: I'm a fairy godmother - not Superman! Oh, one more thing: you can only be awoken by true love's kiss from a handsome prince!
SLEEPING BEAUTY: What, so somebody - while I'm basically in a coma - has to fall in love with me, and then give me a kiss?
FAIRY GODMOTHER: That is the tenure of my explanation.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Okay. Hold on. Firstly, isn't that a bit close-minded that I have to be kissed by a handsome prince? It isn't the 1970s. I might be gay for all you know!
JOBRIETH: That's alright.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Sssh, Jobrieth. I mean, don't I even get a say in it? Hello? #MeToo?! This whole thing has made a mockery of the Bechdel Test and so on.
EVIL WITCH (nodding in apparent agreement, arms folded): #woke
FAIRY GODMOTHER: But all the women in this story have been female, apart from Jobrieth.
Jobrieth shivers and dies.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Secondly, I'm not sure I want to be kissed by anybody who'd fall in love with someone who's in a vegetative state. Plus, am I going to be hooked up to a drip or be fed through a tube or anything? And what about doing number ones and number twos? Do people in comas even do those?
EVIL WITCH: I've just looked it up on Quora. Apparently, people who do not eat will still have bowel movements for very long periods of time because 50% of the stool is made up of the dead cells of bacteria present in the bowels. These bacteria will continue to proliferate for very long periods of time without someone eating. People who can never eat will eventually stop having bowel movements because the bacteria will cease to reproduce when they eat, but that takes a long time to occur. But even people who do not eat for weeks at a time still have bowel movements.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Great. So I'm going to be asleep for one thousand years, and pooing at the same time. Can you at least make sure I'm face-down for the duration?
Suddenly, with a massive grunt, the evil witch shoves a spindle in Sleeping Beauty's face, and the sharp bit pricks her on the chin.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: I guess this is it then! Oh - one last thing! In case you are wonderizzz--z-zzzzzzzzzzz.
Sleeping Beauty falls asleep and has five or six bowel movements.
A grand, royal ball - and amid it all, Sleeping Beauty is flossing in time to the music.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Peng bananas, mandem! It's my sixteenth birthday, and I am on a big man ting. I am now able to legally join a trade union and fly a glider! Also, I have 432 followers on Instagram, and last week one of the actors from Riverdale liked my comment when I posted on their Story, and I've seen every episode of Queer Eye on Netflix.
There's, like, a big puff of smoke and the Evil Witch appears.
EVIL WITCH: I'm back!
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Oh Christ! I'd forgotten all about everything that happened the day I was born.
EVIL WITCH: Remember what I said about you getting pricked and dying?
SLEEPING BEAUTY: I do now, yeah.
EVIL WITCH: Well, I was going to come over here and say that I'd had a change of heart, but now I can see you're having a party without me again. So, forget it.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Why are you always getting annoyed about not being invited to parties? We don't even know you.
EVIL WITCH: It is what it is.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Can I introduce you to Jobrieth? He sits next to me in maths. Perhaps you could put a curse on him instead?
JOBRIETH: I don't mind.
There's another one of those big puff of smoke things and the Fairy Godmother crawls out of a vent.
FAIRY GODMOTHER: Not so fast. I am Hairy Mary Foreskin.
EVIL WITCH: Ha ha ha!
FAIRY GODMOTHER: Please...
EVIL WITCH: You were saying...?
FAIRY GODMOTHER: I am going to use my own magic powers to water-down your spell. Instead of dying from the prick -
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Ha ha ha!
FAIRY GODMOTHER: - she will sleep for a thousand years! At the very least!
SLEEPING BEAUTY: What the ruddy fudge?!? That's almost as bad! Who even knows what state the world'll be in by then? There may be Morlocks, or other twisted evolutionary generatives! Couldn't you have watered it down in some other way, like giving me a vestigial conjoined twin called Bulgy-Boy XII?
FAIRY GODMOTHER: I'm a fairy godmother - not Superman! Oh, one more thing: you can only be awoken by true love's kiss from a handsome prince!
SLEEPING BEAUTY: What, so somebody - while I'm basically in a coma - has to fall in love with me, and then give me a kiss?
FAIRY GODMOTHER: That is the tenure of my explanation.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Okay. Hold on. Firstly, isn't that a bit close-minded that I have to be kissed by a handsome prince? It isn't the 1970s. I might be gay for all you know!
JOBRIETH: That's alright.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Sssh, Jobrieth. I mean, don't I even get a say in it? Hello? #MeToo?! This whole thing has made a mockery of the Bechdel Test and so on.
EVIL WITCH (nodding in apparent agreement, arms folded): #woke
FAIRY GODMOTHER: But all the women in this story have been female, apart from Jobrieth.
Jobrieth shivers and dies.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Secondly, I'm not sure I want to be kissed by anybody who'd fall in love with someone who's in a vegetative state. Plus, am I going to be hooked up to a drip or be fed through a tube or anything? And what about doing number ones and number twos? Do people in comas even do those?
EVIL WITCH: I've just looked it up on Quora. Apparently, people who do not eat will still have bowel movements for very long periods of time because 50% of the stool is made up of the dead cells of bacteria present in the bowels. These bacteria will continue to proliferate for very long periods of time without someone eating. People who can never eat will eventually stop having bowel movements because the bacteria will cease to reproduce when they eat, but that takes a long time to occur. But even people who do not eat for weeks at a time still have bowel movements.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Great. So I'm going to be asleep for one thousand years, and pooing at the same time. Can you at least make sure I'm face-down for the duration?
Suddenly, with a massive grunt, the evil witch shoves a spindle in Sleeping Beauty's face, and the sharp bit pricks her on the chin.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: I guess this is it then! Oh - one last thing! In case you are wonderizzz--z-zzzzzzzzzzz.
Sleeping Beauty falls asleep and has five or six bowel movements.
EXT. 1,000 YEARS LATER - DAY
The handsome Prince Charming rides a robot horse through a futuristic hellscape.
PRINCE CHARMING: Thanks for letting me ride you around, robot horse, even though robot horses were recently awarded the same rights as human beings. Tell me, do you have a name?
ROBOT HORSE: Yes. It's Trotski Brexit, in honour of Brexit - the best thing that ever happened to this country.
PRINCE CHARMING: Thank goodness we got out of the European Union, and the British were at last able to fully embrace their scarcely-concealed intolerance. Would you like to see my blue passport?
ROBOT CHARMING: Not really.
Prince Charming slaps his passport across Trotski Brexit's eyes.
PRINCE CHARMING: Hey - look there: right in the heart of this futuristic hellscape. Is that an old castle that's all overgrown and stuff?
ROBOT HORSE: Beep-ba-boop-blap! My sensors confirm that this is indeed the case.
PRINCE CHARMING: I don't understand. As a fully paid-up member of British Heritage I thought I knew all the castles, but that one isn't even in my pamphlet! Let's go check it out.
ROBOT HORSE: Trotting mode activated! Bleep-beep-boo-bah!
PRINCE CHARMING: K.
The handsome Prince Charming rides a robot horse through a futuristic hellscape.
PRINCE CHARMING: Thanks for letting me ride you around, robot horse, even though robot horses were recently awarded the same rights as human beings. Tell me, do you have a name?
ROBOT HORSE: Yes. It's Trotski Brexit, in honour of Brexit - the best thing that ever happened to this country.
PRINCE CHARMING: Thank goodness we got out of the European Union, and the British were at last able to fully embrace their scarcely-concealed intolerance. Would you like to see my blue passport?
ROBOT CHARMING: Not really.
Prince Charming slaps his passport across Trotski Brexit's eyes.
PRINCE CHARMING: Hey - look there: right in the heart of this futuristic hellscape. Is that an old castle that's all overgrown and stuff?
ROBOT HORSE: Beep-ba-boop-blap! My sensors confirm that this is indeed the case.
PRINCE CHARMING: I don't understand. As a fully paid-up member of British Heritage I thought I knew all the castles, but that one isn't even in my pamphlet! Let's go check it out.
ROBOT HORSE: Trotting mode activated! Bleep-beep-boo-bah!
PRINCE CHARMING: K.
EXT. OVERGROWN CASTLE - DAY
Prince Charming and Trotski Brexit arrive at the castle gates.
PRINCE CHARMING: Urgh. This place is really disgusting up close. It's all falling down and got vines and weeds everywhere and stuff. There are probably spiders and asbestos inside. I'm not going in there!
ROBOT HORSE: My sensors detect a life sign. Beeeeeeeeeep-boop-blatt! It's very feint.
PRINCE CHARMING: So it's something small, like a mouse or a bacillus?
ROBOT HORSE: The readings are consistent with those of a human female in a coma. Booppp!
PRINCE CHARMING: Uh-oh. You said the magic words! Come on, horsey - let's go check this out!
Prince Charming and Trotski Brexit arrive at the castle gates.
PRINCE CHARMING: Urgh. This place is really disgusting up close. It's all falling down and got vines and weeds everywhere and stuff. There are probably spiders and asbestos inside. I'm not going in there!
ROBOT HORSE: My sensors detect a life sign. Beeeeeeeeeep-boop-blatt! It's very feint.
PRINCE CHARMING: So it's something small, like a mouse or a bacillus?
ROBOT HORSE: The readings are consistent with those of a human female in a coma. Booppp!
PRINCE CHARMING: Uh-oh. You said the magic words! Come on, horsey - let's go check this out!
INT. RUINED CASTLE - DAY
Prince Charming and Trotski Brexit enter to see Sleeping Beauty fast a-slumber, face down on the floor, surrounded by 1,000 years' worth of cack and piddle.
PRINCE CHARMING: I think I'm in love! Phwoar!!!
Prince Charming starts fiddling with his bits.
ROBOT HORSE: What are you doing?!
PRINCE CHARMING: Oh god. Sorry. I didn't even realise. Do you think anybody would mind if I gave her a quick kiss?
ROBOT HORSE: Bit weird, but I'm not going to stop you.
Prince Charming tip-toes towards the prone form of Sleeping Beauty, parts the hair from the back of her neck, lays flat on top of her, and starts kissing the base of her skull, while he wriggles around.
ROBOT HORSE: Not being funny, but I'm not sure I'm okay with this after all. Is this something that humans normally do?
PRINCE CHARMING: Sadly, it's more common than you might think <SATIRE NOISE>.
With a loud cough and a rasp, Sleeping Beauty wakes up, realises she's pinned to the ground by the kissing prince, and throws him off her.
PRINCE CHARMING: Woah-woah-woah-woah-woah... woah-woah-woah... woah-woah-woah-woah... woah... woah... woah-woah-woah-woah... woah-woah-woah... woah...
He stumbles backwards, windmilling his arms, across the entire length of the room, before colliding with a wall, and tumbling into an old lathe.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: What the goodness heck are you doing!?
PRINCE CHARMING: I was giving you a true love's kiss.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: That sounds like something a pervert would say.
PRINCE CHARMING: I'm not a pervert! I was only doing it on the base of your skull/tip of your spine.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Mate, I'm, like, sixteen. You're about thirty or something.
PRINCE CHARMING: Twenty eight.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Doesn't matter. That's really messed up and disgusting. You're even going bald.
PRINCE CHARMING: No I'm not. Wait. Am I?
He spends ten minutes rolling his eyes into their sockets, trying to see his own hairline, while biting his lower lip.
PRINCE CHARMING: Anyway, it doesn't matter. I love you - and that love must've woken you up.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Can you please stop fiddling with your bits while you're talking to me?
PRINCE CHARMING: Sorry. Was I doing it again?
ROBOT HORSE: Yes.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Cuh! Men!
ROBOT HORSE: This pantomime is well woke. Please, may I sing a song?
SLEEPING BEAUTY/PRINCE CHARMING: Yes.
ROBOT HORSE (sings):
I'm the robot horse from three thousand and four.
I've got a metal face and a wire jaw,
Do not feed me sugar cubes,
They'll clog up my processor and give me facial pubes!
1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10!
Everybody cheers.
THE END
Prince Charming and Trotski Brexit enter to see Sleeping Beauty fast a-slumber, face down on the floor, surrounded by 1,000 years' worth of cack and piddle.
PRINCE CHARMING: I think I'm in love! Phwoar!!!
Prince Charming starts fiddling with his bits.
ROBOT HORSE: What are you doing?!
PRINCE CHARMING: Oh god. Sorry. I didn't even realise. Do you think anybody would mind if I gave her a quick kiss?
ROBOT HORSE: Bit weird, but I'm not going to stop you.
Prince Charming tip-toes towards the prone form of Sleeping Beauty, parts the hair from the back of her neck, lays flat on top of her, and starts kissing the base of her skull, while he wriggles around.
ROBOT HORSE: Not being funny, but I'm not sure I'm okay with this after all. Is this something that humans normally do?
PRINCE CHARMING: Sadly, it's more common than you might think <SATIRE NOISE>.
With a loud cough and a rasp, Sleeping Beauty wakes up, realises she's pinned to the ground by the kissing prince, and throws him off her.
PRINCE CHARMING: Woah-woah-woah-woah-woah... woah-woah-woah... woah-woah-woah-woah... woah... woah... woah-woah-woah-woah... woah-woah-woah... woah...
He stumbles backwards, windmilling his arms, across the entire length of the room, before colliding with a wall, and tumbling into an old lathe.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: What the goodness heck are you doing!?
PRINCE CHARMING: I was giving you a true love's kiss.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: That sounds like something a pervert would say.
PRINCE CHARMING: I'm not a pervert! I was only doing it on the base of your skull/tip of your spine.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Mate, I'm, like, sixteen. You're about thirty or something.
PRINCE CHARMING: Twenty eight.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Doesn't matter. That's really messed up and disgusting. You're even going bald.
PRINCE CHARMING: No I'm not. Wait. Am I?
He spends ten minutes rolling his eyes into their sockets, trying to see his own hairline, while biting his lower lip.
PRINCE CHARMING: Anyway, it doesn't matter. I love you - and that love must've woken you up.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Can you please stop fiddling with your bits while you're talking to me?
PRINCE CHARMING: Sorry. Was I doing it again?
ROBOT HORSE: Yes.
SLEEPING BEAUTY: Cuh! Men!
ROBOT HORSE: This pantomime is well woke. Please, may I sing a song?
SLEEPING BEAUTY/PRINCE CHARMING: Yes.
ROBOT HORSE (sings):
I'm the robot horse from three thousand and four.
I've got a metal face and a wire jaw,
Do not feed me sugar cubes,
They'll clog up my processor and give me facial pubes!
1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10!
Everybody cheers.
THE END
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