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Movie: Parts: The Clonus Horror:
What appears to be a summer camp for tiny-brained adults turns
out to be a secret encampment of clones, raised to provide body
parts for (can you guess?) rich white people. Peter Graves is
one of the whitest people there's ever been and in this movie
he's also rich, so he's running for President. His brother is
rich and white too but has something of a conscience, so when he
meets his own clone - a thunderingly stupid fellow with a
perpetually downcast mouth - he feels kinda bad. I mean who
wouldn't, faced with your slim-shouldered womany clone looking
at you with those big cow eyes?
This thick clone has escaped from the cruel and frankly
condescending caretakers of the impenetrably isolated clone
world by crossing an ankle-deep river and a line of medium-sized
hills. As luck would have it he runs smack dab into Keenan Wynn
and his wife, who between bouts of really bitter and pointless
bickering take something of a shine to the young semi-human.
They introduce him to Peter Graves' brother, thus setting in
motion a chain of events. There are at least two events that I
can remember.
Sadly (I guess), the Keenan Wynns are blown up by the forces of
evil whiteness, our sad sack hero is recaptured, his clone
girlfriend is given an entirely gratuitous lobotomy, and
everything just falls apart. Keenan manages to get word of the
project to a reporter, but knowing rich white people as I do I
wouldn't be surprised if they got their way regardless.
— Paul Chaplin
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Prologue:
Mike sports a mustache for the first time in his life, and the
robots are supportive. Servo: "You've given me the confidence I
need. I'm gonna go get a big stinky spiral cut ham and staple it
to my top lip!"
Segment 1:
On the planet, three evil space children have the power to make
Pearl, Observer, and Bobo do anything, including hit themselves.
On the SOL, Mike and the 'Bots discuss child nurturing
techniques, and try to talk the kids out of sending them the
movie. That fails, natch.
Segment 2:
While Pearl and Brain Guy play Candyland with two of the hideous
tikes, Bobo tosses a ball with the third, who nails Bobo right
in his expansive area: "Excuse me, Tante Bobo has to go see
Uncle Reconstructive Urologist."
Segment 3:
Candyland continues; Bobo gets hit in the mess again; Pearl
needs a break. The SOL obliges by staging two kids' TV shows.
The first is an oddly quiet affair; the second features Mike (in
gold hot pants) and the whole crew mimicking that frantic
Mexican show that makes you wonder what in blazes is going on
down south of the border.
Segment 4:
The kids simply must know the facts of life, so Pearl and her
companions try and fail to explain. Pearl's bitterness shines
through. Bobo: "You're gonna get kicked in the face, that's
always part of it... grab one leg and hold on tight!" Bobo's
poor abused area gets it again, of course.
Segment 5:
Crow gets a nose job, leaving him with a tiny tiny nose, like
the woman in the movie. The evil kids are almost asleep, so
Servo composes a beautiful lyrical lullaby - and sets it to a
rousing march, waking them. Bobo's hit right in the batch again.
Stinger:
Ricky Knight in a bath robe enunciating his own unique way of
saying "Sure."
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During the end credits there's a
delightful little joke wherein Mike impersonates Peter Graves
promising an upcoming "Biography" on the life of Peter Graves.
Then, lo and behold, not a week after we taped this episode,
there it was in the real world: Peter Graves on "Biography." Damme!
Since the older clones (in the world of the film) are really
getting on in years, some of them nearing forty and even fifty,
evidently this top-secret project has been around since at least
the 1930's. Unless I'm mistaken, science in the 1930's consisted
almost entirely of spindly rockets rising twelve feet and
crashing back to the ground.
So the movie's implausible, I guess is my point.
Another thing: the great majority of these clones would never
get used! Most of us go through life and never need a transplant
of any sort, so what you'd have is a bunch of really old clones,
hanging around, expecting to be entertained and fed. Which would
be okay, they seem fairly easy to keep happy, but what would be
the point? I ask you.
— Paul Chaplin
*Producer's Note: Paul has recently taken to using the
antiquated term "damme", pronounced, phonetically "Dammee", a
Middle English oath of self-derision, out of use for better than
150 years in this country. We believe Paul's use of this term
serves no greater purpose than to annoy us and lord his mastery
of dictionary use over us. Paul also uses anachronistic slang
such as "nurtling om-tiddly-om-pom" and "shiny-bumming
Willy-Wag", prompting us to theorize that his brain once
belonged to a nineteenth-century British gunnery Seargent, was
subsequently pickled and installed in the bony skull of our own
Paul when he was very young.
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