No Place Like Homeless

NO PLACE LIKE HOMELESS studio: TMS written by: John P. McCann directed by: Greg Reyna. {key: R= Runt, P= Pesto, M= Mrs. Mumphead, C= Crackers} R: Pesto, you're supposed to sing. Rita always sings. D-d-definately sings. P: What am I, a nightengale? Oh, somebody listen to me warble, coo. Look at me, I'm warbling; it's sooo pretty. Forget it! R: Ah, ok Pesto, I forgot. P: Boca Raton, what a nanook. R: I wish we'd find a nice home. When are we gonna find a nice home Pesto? P: How am I supposed to know?! Am I intimate friends with Donald Trump? Do I work for Century 22? Are my pockets bulging with real estate listings awaiting for your parusal? R: Uh, I don't know Pesto. I just thought us dogs definately should have a roof over our heads. Definately a roof for dogs. P: What did you say? R: That us dogs should have a home. P: Are you calling me a dog? Are you saying that I'm ugly? That you don't want your friends to see me? That because my face doesn't shine like the crown of a king, I must be some kind of beast?! R: Gee Pesto, all I was saying -- M: Here boy, here big doggy, hmm hmm. Come boy, get out of the rain. Oh my. R: Oh boy, a nice human! P: What are you an elephant? Watch it, Jumbo! M: Oh you poor dog, come inside and dry off. R: Woof. M: Ahhh! Don't move doggy, a horrid pigeon just landed on your back! It probably wants to suck out your blood. (whacks Pesto with a broom) P: Oof! M: Nasty, nasty bloodsucking bird! Nosferatu! P: Pia Zadora. M: Come boy, let's go insidemy house where it's nice and warm and filled with stuff. (slams door on Pesto) P: That hurts. M: You just rest here and be a dog and I'll get you a nice, big, bone. Hmm hmm. R: Yawn. P: (struggles to get unstuck in the door) Grunt. C: Squak. M: Ow! Be nice Crackers, we have company. It's a big dog whom I'll call Scout, or Mr. Mumphead, I haven't decided. C: Squak! Squak! Crackers! Crackers! M: Don't be jealous, you're the dearest thing in the world to me, which should give you some idea of my values. Hmm, hmm. P: What do I look like, a doorstop? Ronzoni! (breaks loose) Now to wake up Runt, so we can get the heck out of here. C: Squak!!! R: Oh boy, something scared me. Definately scared me. P: What are you doing with the fur sticking up? I don't understand, is this something dogs do? R: Something scared me, definately scared me. C: Crackers, Crackers! (whistles) P: Excuse me, what did you say? C: Crackers! Crackers! R: Uh Pesto, what are you gona do? P: What am I gonna do? I'm gonna teach that bird some manners, THAT'S what I'm gonna do! (flys next to Crackers) You know, you should be on a pirate's shoulder, you miserable iguana. Do you have something to say to my beak? C: Crackers! Crackers! Crackers! Squak! P: THAT'S IT! Here's your saltine! (fights Crackers, usual dust cloud formation around them) R: That's gonna be trouble. Definately trouble. P: I'll give you a cracker! M: Stop it! Stop it at once! C: Crack-ers. Crack-ers. (falls) P: (hit by Mrs. Mumphet) Aaahhh! M: How dare you peck the blood from my parrot! Horrid, horrid, undead bird! (Pesto sent towards fireplace, caught by Runt) P: Did you see me beak him? I beaked 'em real good. He never laid a wing on me. M: Get out, the both of you! You were in this together thw whole time. It was a plot to hurt my Crackers! P: (outside) Don Pardo! R: Uh, gee Pesto -- P: I know, I know, I'm supposed to sing. {sings Mozart piece} There, you happy? R: That was good Pesto. P: You think it was great? R: No, but it was good. P: But you think was good, right? Hey you know, I could be the next Wing Newton.