Elf Life

Posted Tue 11-03-09

Baughb has settled down on a stool to read a book (to pretend to read a book, anyway) and smoke a pipe. Biff is confused.

BIFF:

She's not the son of a -- huh?

BAUGHB:

Don't worry, Sgt. Biff. It doesn't have to make sense to scare them. Just the act of hurling expletives regardless of the actual meaning is sufficient motivation. It helps engender a sense of danger.

We see Filis, now wearing a large coat, regaling the troops with a string of unprintable obscenties. Baughb continues to talk.

BAUGHB:

Which is why I decided to take on the role of civilian authority and let Filis swagger. Filis can be Patton. I'm a bit too Eisenhowerish.

BIFF:

Er -- is that another one of your obscure 20th century references, boss?

BAUGHB:

I -- oh, yeah. I guess it is. Time travel has a way of playing havoc with your contextual existence.

Baughb leans back, thoughtful.

BAUGHB:

Now that I think of it, I bet nobody but me got my joke about me wearing a fake beard on our recruitment poster. You know, the Uncle Sam bit.

BIFF:

That was a joke? Maybe it would have been funny in the future?

BAUGHB:

You never know. A good joke is timeless, but a dud joke can be omnipresent.

OFF-PANEL:

Groan.

BAUGHB:

Uh oh! Sgt. Biff! I already forgot that I remembered that I forgot to schedule the medics.

BIFF:

No worries, boss. They're on the way.

Biff points.

BIFF:

Two elf maidens volunteered to be nurses. Here they come now!

BAUGHB:

Oh, good, because this guy here is in pretty bad shape --

Baughb stops, and takes off his reading glasses so he can get a better look.

BAUGHB:

No. Not them.

BIFF:

Boss?

BAUGHB:

Send them home.