And now... It's LETTERS TO JUDGE WAPNER

From moriarty Wed Oct 14 02:16:09 1987
Flags: 000000000201
From: moriarty@tc.fluke.COM (Judge Moriarty Wapner)
Newsgroups: rec.humor.spc
Subject: And now... It's LETTERS TO JUDGE WAPNER
Summary: I'm not dead yet!
Message-ID: <1989@sputnik.COM>
Date: 14 Oct 87 05:15:24 GMT
Sender: Unknown@tc.fluke.COM
Reply-To: spc-request@tc.fluke.COM
Organization: Stupid People's Court
Lines: 299
Approved: moriarty@tc.fluke.COM
 
[OPENING SHOT: A 27-inch television flat-screen television set.
 The sound is off, but it shows several baseball players pouring 
 champagne over one anothers' heads while program credits roll in 
 the foreground.  CLOSE-UP on screen.]
 
[Baseball players begin carrying each other on their shoulders as 
 the sound suddenly comes on]
 
VOICE-OVER:  Due to the length of the televised execution of George
             Steinbrenner, the Tuesday Movie-Of-The-Week, "Oprah Cleans Out
             Hickory Farms", has been preempted.  Instead, we bring you a
             brand-spanking-new episode of STUPID PEOPLE'S COURT.
 
             Look, it was this or Geraldo Rivera's new show.
 
[Scene dissolves to giant cursive letters on a sky-blue 
 background, spelling out "Ask Judge Wapner".  A cheerful 
 theme plays in the background.]
 
VOICE-OVER [sounds vaguely like the voice-over for the Pat Stevens 
            show]:  
 
            And now, it's time for a special Viewer's Mail edition of STUPID
            PEOPLE'S COURT.  And here's Judge Moriarty Wapner now.
 
[Scene dissolves to close-up of a judicial bench surrounded by green and
 ivory pastel walls. JUDGE MORIARTY WAPNER sits behind the bench, visible
 only from his chest up due to the high benchtop, a two-day growth of beard
 darkening his face.  He is wearing a turtleneck shirt under his judicial
 robes, and an unruly pile of envelopes and stationary are piled to the
 right side of the bench.  We find him with his attention centered on an
 issue of THE NEW REPUBLIC, its cover illustration showing William Shatner
 shaking his finger at someone, and sporting the headline "What's all this
 about Klingons on the bridge, then?"  Upon noticing the camera, he puts
 down the magazine and faces us.]
 
JUDGE MW:    What with the football strike and Queen Elizabeth on a rampage
             through British Columbia, things have been rather quiet at
             Stupid People's Court of late.  My producers suggested that
             given the lack of court activity, I should take the time to
             answer some of the mail we receive at the Court.
 
[Leans back in chair while tapping out "Don't Cry for Me, Argentina" with
 his gavel]
 
             Besides, with Bork doubling his efforts to publicly
             self-destruct before Congress, I figure any time in the public
             eye will increase my chances for an appointment to Court El
             Supremo.  Now if I can just think of something blatantly
             anti-Communist quip that will get Ronnie's limited attention...
 
             Unfortunately, the only network spot open for my program today
             was in this afternoon talk-show zone, and I've been told that
             I'll have to "appeal to the market"... which is why they moved
             my bench and me to THIS place.  [points to pastel walls with
             gavel and grimaces] They say the colors appeal to "domestic
             viewers".  All I know is that we got the paint off the set of
             MIAMI VICE -- Don Johnson gave it to us in exchange for a dime
             bag and copies of the three positive reviews of his record
             album.  [Waves gavel at viewers] But don't think this is going
             to make me any more lenient with you turkeys.  I'm still the
             same bad-tempered, eccentric, LaRouche-hunting basket case
             you've all come to ignore.
 
             Well, let's get to your letters...
 
[Judge Wapner pulls a piece of stationary off the top of the pile]
 
             Mrs. A. Q. Rooney of Philistine, Virginia, writes in to ask,
             "Why haven't you gone after that awful Jim and Tammy Bakker
              couple?  These charlatans have bilked thousands of people out
              of their hard-earned dollars; they deserve the full attention
              of Stupid People's Court!"
 
             Well, Mrs. Rooney, as a student of religious mutant behavior, I
             won't argue that few couples present more opportunity for
             analysis than these two.  But let's face it -- the Bakkers have
             been lampooned from Dennis Miller all the way down to Bob Hope.
             I prefer to work on ground that hasn't been trodden over so
             thoroughly.
 
             Besides, anyone who would send in money to build a "religious
             theme park" has lost a lot of my sympathy right off.  I mean, I
             got through MY baptism without going down a Davey Crockett
             River Ride first...  One wonders what they'd do for a
             circumcision.
 
[Grabs another letter]
 
             A request for information: Paul Ashworthy of Woorhaven, Kansas
             asks:
             "Has Phil Collins written or performed ANY music that hasn't
              been turned into a Michelob commercial?"
 
             Paul, I'm afraid you've been misinformed about Mr. Collin's
             occupation.  Phil writes music FOR commercials -- however, many
             of his jingles have become so popular that they've been
             marketed through the record industry.  Phil started his career
             with Genesis, a group of Madison Avenue composers who were
             assembled and promoted by The Beatrice Corporation; many of
             their songs transcended the products they were designed to
             promote.  "Invisible Touch", for instance, was written for a
             60-second spot promoting a new brand of douche; and Phil's
             later solo hit, "Tonight's the Night", was originally designed
             to advertise Milk of Magnesia before Michelob contracted him
             for an exclusive five-commercial deal.
 
[The Judge shrugs] 
 
             So, hey, give Phil a break.  He's short and stocky, he's lost
             most of his hair, and you can't understand what's he's saying
             unless he's singing.
 
[A postcard is selected from the stack]
 
             A foreign missive... A Ms. Christie BonTemp from Monaco asks:
             "Was that you shelling Princess Stephanie's summer house from
              an unmarked fishing trawler last week?"
 
[Judge MW leans back in his chair, stroking his chin and looking at the 
 ceiling]
 
             Hmmm... lessee... [faces camera] Tuesday or Wednesday?
 
[Leans forward and reaches for another letter] 
 
             Next...
 
             Well, here's something from one of our younger viewers, a Mr.
             Timmy Aspersion of Whittier, California.  Timmy writes: 
             "Dear Judge Wapner: Why does God let prejudice and hate exist
              in this country?  Thanks. Your friend, Timmy."
 
[Judge puts letter down, leans back into his chair and gazes thoughtfully
 off-screen].
 
             Well, Timmy, that's certainly one of the tougher questions put
             to me on this show; let me see if I can't answer it the way my
             Mom did when I was your age...
 
[The Judge shifts forward, leaning his arms on the bench and staring
 intently into the camera]
 
             Because!  Now go clean up your room.
 
[Another letter is taken from the pile]
 
             Here's a local inquiry from one of my fellow Pacific
             Northwesterners: Buzzby Berkeley of Vader, Washington asks,
             "Why is the Trojan Nuclear Reactor in Kelso, Washington, named
              after a brand of condoms?"
 
             Buzz, the rather unusual moniker for this atomic power plant is
             an allusion to a quote by famed author Sylvia Plantagenet.  In
             her 1972 essay, "Just the facts, Ma'am", she wrote, "Trojans
             are only as reliable as the men who use them, and that's not
             saying very much."  Local Kelso residents found this
             particularly appropriate when plans for the reactor's
             construction were announced.
 
[Suddenly, the Judge's attention is diverted offstage, as a technician
 appears from Stage Right and hands him a sheet of paper.  The Judge scans
 the paper as the technician walks off-screen.  He finally looks up with a
 stern expression on his face]
 
             Sorry for the interruption -- this bulletin just in.
             Government sources have just announced that misc.legal is being
             flooded with thousands of dummy "drug debate" articles which
             have been treated with the toxic chemical paraquat.
             Subscribers of misc.legal are entreated to place the keyword
             "drugs" in their KILL files, or at the very least to have their
             personal articles tested for paraquat by a qualified lab
             technician.
 
             Well, I think we only have time for two or three more
             letters...  
 
[grabs one off the top]
 
             Tozel Gruber of Insk-Minsk-Pinsk, New Jersey, inquires, 
             "Why don't you go after {name deleted} and {name deleted} on
              soc.religion.funny?  They've been jamming up the ether for the
              last few months with their back-and-forth name-calling and
              allegations of {political bias deleted}, {sexual bias deleted}
              and leprechaun-squashing.  Why haven't you flamed these putzes
              into the Stone Age?"
 
[Judge looks at camera with an honest, forthright and no-nonsense expression
 on his face]
 
             Because no one's paid me enough.  Yet.
 
             Next.
 
[Another letter is picked]
 
             Tom Cruise of Beverly Hills, California asks:
             "Hey, who's this Brad Templeton guy who moderates
              rec.humor.funny?  Is he a Canuck?  What are his
              qualifications?  Can he make love to Kelly McGillis in the
              cockpit of an F-15?  Thanks a helluva lot!  Tom."
 
             Tom, Brad is a hard-working, decent guy who hails from Canada.
             He comes from a very funny family, and his brother Ty is
             renowned for making fun of Satan and old Italian poets.  I
             don't know if he's ever gotten Kelly in an F-15.  I DO know
             that he's the kind of fella I'd be happy to have my sister
             marry, except that she's already married, and two
             brother-in-laws would be kinda touch to shop for at Christmas.
             OK?
 
             And here's the last one...
 
[Judge picks up glowing red envelope from the pile, and rips it open].
 
             Philbert Desinex of Otter Guts, Wyoming, repeats a question
             oft-asked over the last few months: 
             "Hey, Judge!  You awake out there?  How come we haven't seen
              jack #$@! outta you since May?  Get with it, wimp!  Love,
              Dad."
 
[Judge faces camera and blushes.  He lowers his head and speaks in voice
 choked with shame]
 
             I guess many of you must feel pretty disappointed in me -- let
             down that I haven't been more prolific.  Certainly no one feels
             worse about this than I do -- especially with the excuses I've
             given, like an extended vacation, heavy workload and that
             three-weeks of cotton-picking I need for my Fluke engineering
             certification.  Actually, these alibis were all ruses, meant to
             lead you on and draw attention away from my REAL project...
 
[Looks up at camera with a candid, wry expression]
 
             Back in March of this year, Glenn Gordon Caron asked me to help
             him with a hush-hush project for the 1987-1988 season of his
             hit TV series, MOONLIGHTING.  Since I've known Glenn and the
             members of the MOONLIGHTING cast for such a long time, I was
             only too happy to aid him in whatever madcap plot twist he had
             planned.  My collusion with him on this caper has required my
             seclusion from my normal judicial activities over the last few
             months, and probably over the next month or two, as well.
 
             However, so as not to disappoint the readers of rec.humor.spc
             any further, I'll begin re-posting transcripts from the Stupid
             People's Court archives, many of which have not been seen for
             the last four years.  These "repeats" will start next week, and
             continue with one posting per-week for the next eight or nine
             weeks -- each one will have a "(REPOST)" label in the title
             line.  A new SPC case might pop up somewhere during this time
             -- it will depend on what my doctors say I'm capable of.
 
[Looks covertly to his left and right, and then leans forward and speaks in
 a low tone]
 
             You know, I'm not supposed to tell ANYONE what I'm involved in
             -- but heck, you people deserve something after the SPC dry
             spell you've been through.  All I ask is that you don't breath
             a word to TV Guide...
 
[Judge Moriarty Wapner gets to his feet with some difficulty; we can only
 see him from the chest up behind the imposing judicial bench. He steps down
 from behind the bench, and the camera suddenly captures him in a full side
 shot -- to reveal a huge swelling beneath the middle of his judicial robes.
 The Judge beams to the camera]
 
             Yup... I'm pregnant with Maddie's twins.  Glen figures that
             nobody expected me to be the father... and Cybil couldn't have
             been nicer about it.
 
             Of course, the real twist will be later in the season, when the
             two twin boys will be sent back in time, and it will turn out
             that one grows up to be Sam, and the other one grows up to be
             David...
 
             Anyway, I'll begin posting those SPC transcripts next week.
             Just remember, even while I'm under anesthesia in the delivery
             room...
 
  If you've got a flame, don't take it to the net.  Take it to court.
 
                   ****** STUPID PEOPLE'S COURT!! ******
 
============================================================================
 
                        "You know what I wish?  I wish all the scum of the
                         Net had one throat and I had my hands about it."
                                                -- Rorschach (1985)
 
                                        Judge Moriarty Wapner
                                        Stupid People's Court
 
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           necessarily represent the views of my employers.  They are 
           entirely out of my dark and furtive imagination.