My set was in a crate labeled "Generic Talk Show" meant for a pilot starring either Paul Lynd or Ed Asner, and from what I can gather, ended up being auctioned off to a Vietnamese porn producer who for the next five years used it as the centerpiece of a series of poorly produced skin flicks starring Johnny Carson. I'm assuming it wasn't the real Johnny Carson, but I've been wrong about that before.
Fast forward 3 years, and somehow my set is in another crate labeled "Porno Set" on its way to Mexico, where a Mexican Drug Lord was planning on using it for his kid's Bar Mitzvah. Over the years I've tried to count the number of things wrong in that sentence, and I still find something new every time I read it. It's the gift that keeps on giving.
Unfortunately for the Junior Jewish Drug Lord, however, the set was once again on a ship (the USS Tony Randall) besieged by Pirates - Nigerian, this time - who rerouted the shipment to Antarctica.
Now, Nigerian Pirates aren't the smartest outlaws out there, which was made evident when on their way to Antarctica, the ship got caught in an ice bank and all the Nigerians realized that they forgot to wear coats. Or shoes. And then one of them realized that nobody actually lives in Antarctica, so the chances of them selling their cargo were pretty low. At this point the crew became rather agitated with their captain, who as it turns out was really a Polar Bear wearing a captain's hat. How a Polar Bear managed to become a Nigerian pirate - and where he got that captain's hat - was never really explained, but a mutiny ensued and pretty soon all of the crates were thrown overboard and left to their own devices. It's assumed that Captain Klondike went on to settle the first Antarctic Macy's, but that's a story for another night.
So my set drifted in the Arctic waters for around 8 years, until it finally washed ashore in Utah, where it spent its days as a Mormon temple and its nights as a Mormon Meth lab. 100 weddings later (constituting 100 grooms and 1000 brides), my set ended up on the back of a flatbed truck, traveling the country to host local celebrities doing gay-rights telethons at gun shows. The less said about this period of time the better, as many of the homicide investigations are still active.
L. Ron Hubbard then bought my set at a police auction, and set it up on his Scientology yacht, where he used it to teach a young Tom Cruise how to not come off as freakishly creepy during TV interviews. You'll notice my set doesn't have a couch. You'll also notice what happens when Tom Cruise is confronted with a couch he wasn't prepared for.
Three cults, two hostage videos and a shampoo commercial later, and here we are. You might be wondering how I came into possession of such a grand set, but I'm not about to give away all my secrets. Not for free, anyway.
And that, ladies and gentleman, is why my set smells like a tour through the world's oldest brothels. E-mail the show for tickets!
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