The Elle-Lab Theatre Company Presents:
The Night Before
Christmas, FSM Version
(by E. Fairhurst, E. Jones, B.
Kennedy, R. Mayberry, and
Narrator: In response to the increasing discussion of Intelligent
Design in the news, the Elle-Lab Theatre Company proudly presents: The Night Before Christmas, Flying Spaghetti Monster Version. For
those of you not in the know, FSM has been proposed as an alternate theory of
Intelligent Design by those upset that ID may now form part of
Narrator: 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all
through the White House
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In the hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
George Dubya was nestled all snug in his bed,
While visions of Intelligent Design danced in his head.
And Cheney in his kerchief, and Dubya in his cap,
Had just settled their “brains” for another terms’ nap.
When out on the
lawn there arose such a clatter,
George sprang from his bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutter, and threw out his stash.
The moon on the
breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of midday to objects below,
When, what to his wondering eyes should appear,
But a Flying Spaghetti Monster and three buccaneers.
With delicious
looking meatballs George wanted to eat so quick,
He knew in a moment it wasn’t St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles, her theories they came,
And she whistled and shouted and called them by name:
FSM: “Oh pirates, oh pirates
There now are so few!
George Bush, global warming
Has been caused by you!
Rising temperatures scorch!
Cause the ice shelves to fall!
The end of the pirates?
The end of us all!”
Narrator: As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
So up to the roof-top the monster she flew,
With her googly eyes and some pasta sauce too.
And then, in a
twinkling, George heard on the roof-age
The shlooping and glooping of each noodly
appendage.
As he drew in his head and was turning around,
Down the chimney the FSM came with a bound.
Her eyes - how
they wobbled! Her appendages, how tasty!
Her meatballs like roses; her nose was quite starchy!
Formidable pirates she’d brought with her three;
Their sharp, fearsome swords made George weak at the knee.
She was dressed
all in sauce, from her balls to her foot,
And her noodles were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
An oversized graph she had flung on her back
And she threw it at George with a terrible smack.
FSM: “I know that you do not believe what you’re seeing;
Of Flying Spaghetti Monsterism I’m the divine being.
My existence is proven by the temperature rise
On this graph, which you’ll see if you just use your eyes.”
Pirates: “She has thousands of followers all over this land
And for their sake she feels that she must take a stand.
Her legions of followers deeply resent
The teaching of science in
Narrator: And what she said next chilled him right to the bone:
FSM: “You teach kids FSM or leave science alone!
If you’re going to teach children Intelligent Design,
In addition to your way, you’ll have to teach mine!”
Narrator: In the face of this logic, Dubya didn’t know what to say;
He just wanted the monster to be far, far away.
Bush/Narr: “I promise” (he said) “to make science be taught
Fully free of religion, as really it ought.”
Narr/FSM: And the FSM said, “An agreement is reached.
You go back on your word and I’ll have you impeached.”
Narrator: And laying a noodle aside of her nose
And giving a nod, up the chimney she rose.
She boarded her ship with her pirates so strange
And away they all sailed on the winds of political change.
But George heard her exclaim, ‘ere she flew out of sight,
All: “Whole wheat pasta to all, and to all a good night!”
-THE END-