Based On Facts By Young Han Lester

TIMMY: A jolly young boy, if overly inquisitive.

MOMMY: Timmy’s overprotective, haggard mother.

SAMURAI: Redneck Samurai.

TIMMY:

Mommy! Mommy!

MOMMY:
What is it, sweetie?

TIMMY:

Mommy, the hillbilly samurai down the street committed forced seppuku on Mr. Foofers.

Holds up an old teddy-bear with its stomach ripped open and stuffing falling out.

MOMMY:

Mommy Gasps.

Don’t worry Timmy, I’m sure it’s nothing a little bit of stitching can’t fix.

Timmy holds up a small round object.

What’s this, honey?

TIMMY:

A human eyeball.

Mommy yelps and drops the eye on the ground.

MOMMY:

Timmy! What on earth are you getting at?

TIMMY:

The hillbilly samurai gave it to me. He said it’d be all that they would ever find of me if I ever besmirched the good name of Dale Earnhardt again. Mommy, what’s besmirch mean?

MOMMY:

It’s ebonics, sweetie. You say “I be smirched” when you want to say “I’m feeling a bit smirchy today” and that your life has become a 21st century minstrel show. But Timmy, what on earth did you say about Dale Earnhardt that encouraged a culturally confused Korean to threaten your eyeballs and teddybear?

TIMMY:

Samurai were Japanese, mommy. Mrs. Phillips said so in social studies the other day, she said that the Samurai were demon-warriors that were powered by the stolen skins of white-children and that that was why we had to set Japan on fire in world war II. Mommy, is the scary man down the street going to steal my skin?

MOMMY:
No, no, Timmy. It’s okay, I won’t let him get to you. I won’t ever let him get to you.

Mommy turns towards off-stage

Bo Duke Akira Kurosawa, you get your chili-filled sushi eating hiney over here right this instant!

TIMMY:

Mommy! What are you doing?

MOMMY:

Inviting him in!

Samurai enters, wearing overalls and a cut-off flannel shirt a la Larry The Cable Guy, as well as a rice hat and a katana at his belt.

SAMURAI:

Konichiwa, toots-chan. Y’all’s looking purdier than a greased and willing pig.

MOMMY:

Spare me the sweet-talk you Ronin Redneck! I hear you’ve been threatening my special little man.

TIMMY:

Is that me?

MOMMY:

I suppose.

SAMURAI:

Well now puddin’, your man-cub’s words caused my ears great dishonor somethin’ fierce. You see, I’m a noble warrior of the great clan of NASCAR, and to hear your little varmint’s lips flip-flappin’ was a kettle of fish I couldn’t abide by. Your boy said The Great Kami Earnhardt smelled like a girl. Now I’ll bet my disemboweling knife your boy hasn’t once touched nostrils with Eanhardt-samma, and quite frankly you’re lucky he ended up with nothing more than some hobo’s eyeball.

MOMMY:

For your information my husband had a sampling of Earnhardt’s ashes made into cologne after his death, so my son very well DOES know what he smelled like! And you mean to tell me that you threatened Timmy’s skin just because he threatened the scent of some redneck?

SAMURAI:

Redneck!? Foul woman, bite your tongue! Earnhardt-samma died for our sins!

MOMMY:

He died because he didn’t know how to make a left turn properly!

SAMURAI:

Blasphemy! Blasphemesque! Downright blasphemish! I ain’t gonna stand here and listen to you say one more bad word about Mr. Dale Earnhardt!

MOMMY:

Well I’M not going to listen to my son tell me you threatened him!

TIMMY:

Take that you bushido-bonking jerk!

MOMMY:

Stay out of this, Timmy, you’re getting in the way of my righteous indignation.

TIMMY:

Is that like the time I came into your room because I had a bad dream and you said I got in the way of Daddy’s righteous-

MOMMY:

TIMMY!

TIMMY:

-and called me “Bedwetting Harbinger of Abstinence” for a week?

MOMMY:
TIMMY!

TIMMY:

What’s a harbinger? Is it like someone who gets really drunk while laughing so they choke a lot and wake up days later dressed as a clown hanging from the ceiling by straps with a transsexual biting them in funny places? Mommy, what’s a transsexual?

MOMMY:

Enough!

Mommy grabs Timmy by the shoulders and shoves him at the Samurai.

Here! Take him! Tie him up to a tractor or steal his skin for your demon-power or whatever. I don’t need this.

SAMURAI:

But the little varmint ain’t said nothing about Dale Earnhardt! Bushido says I can’t wrangle that feller up and make his flesh into a hula skirt until he-

MOMMY:

No! No, before you got here he uh… explained to me his hypothesis as to why Dale Earnhardt was directly responsible for the collapse of the Roman Empire!

SAMURAI:

Angrily

Is that so? Well c’mere you little cuss, Ima show you why it ain’t kosher to implicate NASCAR martyrs into your anachronistic hypotheses!

The Samurai drags Timmy off-stage. Timmy screams.

TIMMY:

Please, no! I’ll never do it again, honest!

MOMMY:
Sayonara sweety, be sure to wear your coat, it’s getting chilly!

Breathes deeply.

Ah. Motherhood.

THE END