The Coalition of the Swilling

They don't call them po-boys for nuttin'.

My wife and my favorite po-boy shop in Gulfport (very nearly Biloxi) was closed when I went down. O'Neals (http://gulfport.biloxi.diningchannel.com/restaurants_o.htm)There's also one on Hwy 49 (don't know how it fared and one in Diamondhead, I imagine that one is now gone, just from what I saw of Diamondhead from I-10. Don't know what the damage to the shop was, but I hope it opens soon.

"Donner. Party of 5."

;)

"Oops, make that Donner, party of 4..."

There IS precedence for this...

"There is no cannibalism in the British navy, absolutely none, and when I say none, I mean there is a certain amount." - Sir John Cunningham

Voice Over: Dear Sir, I am glad to hear that your studio audience disapproves of the last skit as strongly as I. As a naval officer I abhor the implication that the Royal Navy is a haven for cannibalism. It is well known that we have the problem relatively under control, and that it is the RAF who now suffer the largest casualties in this area. And what do you think the Argylls ate in Aden. Arabs? Yours etc. Captain B.J. Smethwick in a white wine sauce with shallots, mushrooms and garlic.

ANIMATION: various nasty cannibalistic scenes from Terry Gilliam.

Cut to man.

Man: Stop it, stop it. Stop this cannibalism. Let's have a sketch about clean, decent human beings.

Cut to an undertaker's shop

Undertaker: Morning.

Man: Good Morning.

Undertaker: What can I do for you, squire?

Man: Um, well, I wonder if you can help me. You see, my mother has just died.

Undertaker: Ah well, we can help you. We deal with stiffs.

Man: What?

Undertaker: Well, there's three things we can do with your mum. We can bury her, burn her, or dump her.

Man: Dump her?

Undertaker: Dump her in the Thames.

Man: What?

Undertaker: Oh, did you like her?

Man: Yes!

Undertaker: Oh well, we won't dump her, then. Well, what do you think? We can bury her or burn her.

Man: Well, which do you recommend?

Undertaker: Well, they're both nasty. If we burn her, she gets stuffed in the flames, crackle, crackle, crackle, which is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead, but quick. (the audience starts booing) and then we give you handful of ashes, which you can pretend are hers.

Man: Oh.

Undertaker: Or, if we bury her she gets eaten up lots of weevils, and nasty maggots, (the booing increases) which as I said before is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead.

Man: I see. Well, she's definitely dead.

Undertaker: Where is she?

Man: She's in this sack.

Undertaker: Can I have a look? She looks quite young.

Man: Yes, yes, she was.

Increasing protests from audience

Undertaker: (calling) Fred!

Fred's voice: Yeah?

Undertaker: I think we've got an eater.

Man: What?
Another undertaker pokes his head round the door

Fred: Right, I'll get the oven on. (goes off)

Man: Er, excuse me, um, are you suggesting eating my mother?

Undertaker: Er ... Yeah. Not raw. Cooked.

Man: What?

Undertaker: Yes, roasted with a few french fries, broccoli, horseradish sauce ...

Man: Well, I do feel a bit peckish.

Voice From Audience: Disgraceful! Boo! (etc.)

Undertaker: Great!

Man: Can we have some parsnips?

Undertaker: (calling) Fred - get some parsnips.

Man: I really don't think I should.

Undertaker: Look, tell you what, we'll eat her, if you feel a bit guilty about it after, we can dig a grave and you can throw up in it.
A section of the audience rises up in revolt and invades the set, remonstrating with the performers and banging the counter, etc., breaking up the sketch. Zoom away from them and into caption machine; roll credits. The National Anthem starts. The shouting stops. Mix through credits to show audience and everyone on set standing to attention. As the credits end, fade out.

How do you say "Sweeney Todd" in cajun?