Airheads Page #5

What do you say we take a few calls?

You're on the air.

Ooh, let's turn down your radio, a**hole.

I'm sorry. I wanna talk

to the guy with the gun.

I just said you're on the air,

numbnuts. So talk already.

I want some tickets to that show with

Penelope Lovestocking

and Crimson Shroud.

Oh, man, you actually listen

to that Seattle bullshit?

Shroud rips, dude.

- All right, bro, no problem.

You gotta come down because

we've got free tickets to give away...

...but we are completely

surrounded by cops.

We need some feedback here. Go.

You're on the air.

- Whoa, am I on the air?

Come on, Butt-head, give me the phone.

- Am I speaking English, dipshit?

Come on, Butt-head. No way.

- Shut up, Beavis.

So what do you guys want?

You guys are, like, The

Lone Rangers, right?

Yeah.

- We saw you at The Wheel Well last month.

You suck.

- Come down here and say that, you punks.

Yeah, you can kiss my ass.

Why don't you make the chicks get naked?

Usual crop of retards.

Hey, guys, you're on TV.

A band of failed musicians lashing out

at the society that won't listen to them.

Their target, the only capitalist edifice

their MTV-soaked minds recognize:

a rock 'n' roll radio station.

- Oh, man. This is complete bullshit.

...and I quote:
'White urban males

are the least likely to elicit tears...

...from a city already beleaguered

by people with real problems.'

The mayor is on holiday...

- I'd like to croak that b*tch.

Mace, we have contact with the man inside.

Beech, is that you?

- They've got six hostages.

It's three weirdos with Uzis.

- Outstanding, Beech.

You just keep your eyes open

and your tail down.

Have you got any personnel at home

you want me to call, like a wife?

No, no, I don't even have a home.

I've got a condo.

Listen, I guess I've just tried

to wait to meet the right woman.

I guess I should have waited longer myself.

Let me tell you about the shrew I married.

I used to come home tired every night,

sometimes five or six in the morning.

I dropped my underwear

on the floor one time...

...had a teeny-weeny little skid mark in it.

You'd have thought I

started World War Nine.

There you go.

- Thank you.

You've really great arms.

You should show them off.

How does he do that?

Pip? He gets his hands

on more bumper than a body shop.

With that 'I seem so stupid

I must be cute' routine?

That's the quiet cool.

Chicks, man, they just flock on it.

Man, you got hot CDs here and I never hear

them. Why don't you ever play these guys?

That's Milo's call. Why don't we play 'em?

If they're so hot, how come

they're not tearing up the charts, babe?

Cos you never play 'em, babe. You suck.

What do you think, Ian?

- To tell you the truth, I stick to the classics.

Rock 'n' roll's been all downhill

since Lennon died.

My whole life, people have been cramming

this classic-rock crap down my throat.

Think I give a sh*t about the Beatles?

No offense, but today's music

doesn't have a whole lot to say.

Is that right? So you're gonna tell me

that 'Purple Haze' says something?

Hey, Ian, man, wait till

you hear our stuff. We kick ass.

Swell. Yeah, I can't wait

to hear your brilliant song.

Beats the sh*t out of the fruity music

you listen to, tough guy.

He's got himself a whole crate of

Kenny G CDs and you're talking trash?

A crate of CDs?

He's got a stockpile of easy-listening

sh*t-shingles in his office.

You don't even listen to music. What

are you doing with a whole crate of CDs?

Those are free promos.

I use 'em as stocking stuffers.

It's the middle of July.

Aloha out there in radio land.

This is Oedipus Rex on WKPP-Rex...

...comin' at ya, smooth-talking DJ terrorist.

These guys rule.

You're gonna hear some new sh*t.

There's a box of that crap right there.

Yeah, dude.

Blonde, wearing something tight and black.

Great. Grand. Wonderful.

Come on, fellas. Let's put a sock in it, OK?

What the hell are these?

They're shorts, Ian.

You know, pants with little legs?

And this?

Hey, I don't have

to explain myself to you, man.

Come here.

- What? I'm right here.

Speak to me. What's goin' down?

OK, um...

We're changing formats.

Sunday at midnight

the station goes soft rock.

Rebel Radio's goin' soft?

- We're changing our name to The Rain.

You know, 'Relax to the mellow

sounds of The Rain on KPPX.'

That, and we're being forced to re-staff.

You pud.

- All those blow jobs for nothing.

You're firing me, you little

snake-in-the-grass bastard?

Where do you get the balls to fire me?

This was handed down from above, Ian.

I fought this kicking and screaming.

You've just begun to kick and scream,

you sniveling putz. I'll kill you.

Agh.

- A fight.

Yeah.

- Ooh. Ow, my spine.

You're Kayla.

I need to talk to you about Chazz Darby.

If Chazz needs any bail money,

you can just tell him to forget it.

Look, there's a situation

down at Rebel Radio.

I'm gonna need to take you in.

Look, Chazz says you've got a tape.

Please.

Hey, check out Barney Fife.

Don't you think you're

out of your league, chunk-style?

Look, I don't wanna have

to bring you boys in on a 148.

That's obstruction.

Now what are you gonna do about that?

Ow.

Improvise.

So she says to me 'He was only

cleaning the pool filter, Sniggles.'

And I'm thinking to myself 'It's 7 PM, he's...

...in dungarees and his

equipment is bone-dry.'

Pool filter, my ass.

Thing is, she could have left me for...

...a plastic surgeon, but

a lousy pool cleaner?.

Kayla, if you're listening,

I really need that demo tape.

You gotta get it to the station.

Dammit.

Shoo, dog. Oh, shoo.

Ugh.

Now stay.

Uh, 67 copies of Moby-Dick.

The movie or the book?

- They made a book out of that?

Yeah, I think so.

- Yeah, get the book.

What are you guys doing?

We're taking the cops

up on those demands.

We've got a killer list.

Yeah. We ask for airplay

and whatever else...

...then we demand a bunch of weird stuff

so we can plead insanity later.

Where did this come from?

- Pip's idea.

Way to go, Pip.

You guys are crazy, man.

You're all whoo-hoo and sh*t.

So, what else we got so far?

- Number one:
airplay, underlined twice.

Number two:

a helmet filled with cottage cheese.

Number three:
a Zon walnut bass

with a graphite neck.

Thank you.

- Hey. What about me?

Go for broke. It's on the LAPD.

- Oh.

I want a PRS Guitar with the dragon inlay.

- Nice.

I'm coming, you bastard.

Number 13:
naked pictures of Bea Arthur.

Excuse me?

- The chick from The Golden Girls.

Look, I know who she is.

I'm just a street cop.

How am I supposed to find all this stuff?

A giant baby bottle? Give me a break.

You better figure it out,

or it's curtains for everyone.

Oh yeah, and we want a record contract, so

let's get some record executive here pronto.

What?

- Why'd you ask for a record contract?

That's what we want.

- You don't demand one from the cops.

It's gotta come unsolicited.

What's unsolicited?

- Forget it. Just forget it.

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