We interrupt this broadcast to bring you a SPECIAL NEWS REPORT
Sorry if you are missing Judge Judy and her court
"This is Mike Hunt here, reporting like I fear. Damn it! It will not stop. This whole telecast is going to be a flop."
"Sally Hornie here and you will have to excuse my collegue today. He is just full of dismay. God! I hate this rhyme play. It is all we can do at our bay. I sound so happy and gay when really my hair is beginning to fray. So before I have more rhymes to say. Let us go out to the field with Jim James, Go!, Make hay!"
"Thank you Sally! It seems from every land and valley, this rhyming affliction or maybe addiction is spreading across the world like a plague. It's so annoying, so I will let the people talk, starting with this old hag."
"Even with my bum hip I can take you sonny. I will whack you with my cane and take your money. Maybe give you a whiff of my diaper too. Sometimes I just can't make it to the loo"
"Okay! That's quite enough out of her. Let us move on to others and hope they don't slur. Oh I hate this almost makes me want to hiss."
"Dude! This is so totally out there dude. I heard it started from something rude. Like Dude! Some gas from some little rhyming ass. Dude! Do you think like the ass is so small it could go in your ear dude? Then like float around being all rude, in your brain. Then dude! It would fart like rain and dude! It would go out the other side inflicting some other poor dude. Dude! I may have just solved it, aren't I a shrewd dude! Dude!"
"Someone better stop this bleeping bleep fast. Or I will bleeping shoot every bleeping bleep that rhymes until I'm the bleeping last. That will cure this bleeping bleep and stop my bleeping fit. Why are you bleeping me out. I say bleeping bleeping bleep all the bleeping bleep I want to in my bleeping shout. Get out of my bleeping way or I will bleeping kill you in a not so nice bleeping way. Bleep a duck. Hey You! Get out of my bleeping truck!"
"I love this bloody stuff. It's like every bloody wanker is happy as they huff and puff. Although no one seems to want a bloody orange any more. I guess the rhymes make those bugger off because they are a bloody chore. You can't rhyme the bloody things. Look at that bloody fool, he thinks he has wings."
"Gimmie Gimmie Gimmie. No it's my turn Timmy. I want to rhyme. Mom! Timmy is hogging the mic all the time. Mom! She's touching me. I want to be girl cootie free. Mom! It's my turn. Mom! She had her turn and I want to make people learn. Mom! She kicked me in the bum. Mom! Timmy is just acting dumb."
"Turn that frown upside down. Walk with Frodo the clown all over town. I'll make you a balloon animal or two and perform a magic trick for you. What are you all going on about? Hey! What is with the pout? Wait! Why is everyone talking like me? This sure is a sight to see."
"All this rhyming is quite simple. Some stupid little brat with a pimple did not do his job and maintain the food supply. Then he gave some stupid lie and the food shipped out as it always does. Now we're in the land that never was. All important sections of are brain have melted away from something which I am going to dub here today, as mad rhyme disease. I think it even attracts fleas."
"So there you have it. I just let all the people have a fit. This is just hell. I am out for the count, ring the damn bell. Back to you in the studio. I have nothing more to show."
"Still no solid evidence on what could be causing this disease. Not here or over seas. So if you are still speaking normally and have yet to change. Lock the doors, bolt the windows and hide on your range. That is all the advice we can give unless rhyming forever is how you want to live."
"Something I would not advise. It hurts the head and the eyes. This is Mike Hunt leaving you now."
"And Sally Hornie still trying to stop rhyming some how."
"Armaggedon is upon us for real. Independance day with damn aliens screwing with us is how I feel. Could be the dawn of the dead. As our brains are led, into the unknown and The Postman is all alone. Living in Rhymingland is not grand. Let us hope the Day After Tomorrow is not as bland and we can get back to telling people to pound sand."
We now return you to your regular scheduled programy
I bet they won't hit the Whammy
Yeah I know. I was mean today at my show. Saying all those bad things about a daydreamertoo, Betsy's with hiccups and tongues that go blue. Brian and the weather. Claudia and some annoying feather. That Ed guy, although it might have been a lie. Some ocean girls and others that do twirls. Something about Zen and flags in her backyard pen. Bah I can't repeat it all again, that might just piss off some more men and women. Hope you enjoyed my sass. What was that lass? It got cut off by some disease that won't pass? Well wasn't that a rude thing to do to my little rhyming ass.
Later all, have a nice fall.