Narrator: Mike Pence has been making headlines every day for the past week, and I have yet to hear anybody mispronounce his surname in the obvious hilarious fashion. For God's sake, it's not hard to see. It's right there in front of you. Pence and its near homonym are so similar that someone has probably already mis-spoken it by mistake and the television producer has dubbed "Pence" over it. Scene: Indoors, a television studio in Los Angeles at 07.58 hrs on 26 July 2016. Anchor sits in front of television camera. Vertical colour bars are projected on the wall behind him. Goldfish Bowl is on the left, just out of shot. Humphrey and Sylvia are inside the goldfish bowl. "On Air" signs, television monitors, wires, boom mikes etc.
Continuity announcer: (Heard on speaker.) This is W-ART TV. Here is the latest innernational nooze, with Neville Phibbs.
(08.00 time signal plays. On Air signs light up red. Vertical colour bars turn into picture of crop spraying aeroplane landing in an airfield somewhere in Oregon.)
Humphrey: (Distorted, tinny voice) Cue announcer.
Anchor: Donald Trump's running mate Mr Mike Pants arrived aboard his private jet in Cincinatti Airport at seven this morning...
Humphrey: (in goldfish bowl) (Howl round, then) Hold on a second, Neville.
Anchor: Is there a problem, Humphrey?
Humphrey: There sure is, Neville... ha, ha...
Anchor: Are we on air?
Humphrey: Affirmative. I guess we'd best go to a com- Ha, ha, ha...
Anchor: And now a word from- What the fuck are you two plug-monkeys laughing at?
Humphrey: You said.. ha, ha,... you said "Mike (giggles) Pants!"
Anchor: Can we edit that out?
Humphrey: No. We?re live on air. Ha, ha, ha!
(Camera starts to wobble up and down because Cameraman is suffering a paroxysm of laughter)
Cameraman: Humphrey, Sylvia, can one of you please turn... Ha, ha, ha (speechless with laughter)
Anchor: I didn't, did I? Ha, ha... I said Mike Pants?
Humphrey and Sylvia together: (Laughs uncontrollably)
Anchor: And now here's a word from our... HA, HA, HA (guffaws and falls off chair)
Sylvia: I?ll turn on the Steadycam... Cue commerc- HA, HA, HA! (Uncontrollable laughter. Video plays on screen.)
Video on Screen: (Shows Gary Owen in a black suit. Owen's speech is almost inaudible through the laughter) Gary Owen: This station has just received nooze of a nooclear strike directed against the ciddies of Wushin'ton an' Noo Yoik. To give yourself the best chance of survival, stuff a bale of clean straw up the chimney, take with you five gallons per person of clean wudder and an amplitood muduladed radio with spare badderies, whitewush the windows and hide under the kitchen table. You have three minutes before impack. Remember, if you're caught in the fireball, duck an' cover. Oh, and take a packet of aspirins with you. Goodbye, viewers everywhere. Now let us pray together... (Video stops suddenly. Vertical colour bars return.)
Sylvia: (in Goldfish Bowl) Oh my Gard, Humphrey, you starded the wrung VTR.
All except Gary Owen: HA HA HA HA HA... Mike Pants! Oh, Jesus... HA HA HA...
Narrator: Either Americans have lost such sense of humour as they once had, or Mr Pence has a good lawyer.
