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It occured to me as I lazed about in the cold bath
this morning that 'ops' has the same cadence as
'spam' . . . Run now.
Spam, the Subreality Version--or, Too Many Ops, Not Enough Soap. . .by ALC Punk!It's a small 'cafe, near Euston Station in the East End. Many people pass through this little diner. Some old, some new. All having fun. Conversation ends up general more than 90 percent of the time. There's couples in the backroom, friends drinking each other under the table and general mayhem."Ho! Major, what's on the menu tonight?" A passing patron called to the bartender as he wiped up someone's spilled Guinness (*sob* Wasted Guinness, what a complete tragedy). "Well, let's see now. We have eggs, bacon and ops. Bacon, ops, eggs and ops." He began, turning to the placard on the wall. Someone had filled it with orange chalk in a never-ending list of breakfast foods and ops. "'ops?" A blearily drunk voice meandered through, "I like 'ops. Make mah beer good." "American beer sucks." "Ah, shaddup." "Ops, ops, ops, eggs, bacon, sausage and ops." The Major continued. "Eggs, ops, sausage, ops, bacon, ops, and ops. Ham, ops, ops, ops, eggs, and ops. Bacon, sausage, ops, ops, and beans." "Ops?" Demanded a querulous voice. "Don't like ops." "Oh, why not, mother? Ops are just as good as eggs." The young man next to her remonstrated. "Oi, bartender, I'd like the 'ops, ops, eggs, ops, bacon and ops' please." "You can't have tha'." "Oh, why not?" "The bacon's gone off." "Then why did you list it, you silly bugger?" "I'm just readin' down tha list." The Major replied equably, then continued. "Beans, ops, beans, ops, beans, eggs, ops and ops. Eggs, ops, eggs, ops, beans, bacon, ops, and ham." In an unprecedented move, a group of Vikings suddenly burst into song. "Ops, ops, ops, ops, ops, ops, ops, ops. Lovely ops! Wonderful ops! Ops, ops, ops, ops, ops, ops, ops..." "Shut up!" A strident voice demanded. The Vikings lowered their voices but continued chanting. At the bar, the Major continued reading down the list, "Ops, beans, ops, bacon, ops, beans, beans, eggs, ops, ops, and ops. Ops, ops, ops, ops, ops and beans. Ops, beans, ops, ops, ops, ops." "Wait a minute. How's that one different from the last?" "It just is. Ops, beans, ops, bacon, ops, eggs, ops, ops, cherries and Jubilee." The Major continued. "Ops, ops, ops, ops," The Vikings rose to the crescendo again. "Would you shut up! I'm tryin' to read this here list! Now, ops, ops, bacon, ops, eggs, ops, ops, ops, and ops." "I'd like Ops, bacon, eggs, ham and ops. Without the ops." "You can't do that!" "Why not? I don't like ops." "Well, mother, why not have ops, ops, beans and ops, then?" "I don't want ops, I don't like ops!" "Wonderful ops! Lovely ops!" The Vikings bellowed again. "Would you shut up--" "I DON'T LIKE OPS!" Outside the 'cafe a man sits at his desk and answers his phone. "Hello? Oh, yes." He turns towards us. "And now for something completely different."
THE END. Credits: the Subreality Cafe and concept were created by Kielle, Tapestry and Falstaff. The original Spam sketch was written and performed by Terry Jones, Eric Idle, Michael Palin, John Cleese and Terry Gilliam. No harm to Vikings occured in this production. One other thing. None of the characters is meant to resemble any persons living or dead, and if they do it's a bloody great coincidence. Besides, farcical aquatic animals aside, we're all in this together, aren't we?
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