...after a word from Bebopareebop Rhubarb Pie.


Garrison Keillor: So you decide you want to go into radio, that glamorous profession, you want to be another Nina Totenberg
Sue Scott: Nina Totenberg, at the Supreme Court -- In a unanimous decision (FADING), not knowing there is only one opening and the position is filled, so you go off to radio college and there you discover something -- (COMPUTER BEEPING) broadcasting today is simply computer programming -- you sit in a small room in front of a computer and it does everything and once in awhile you say--


Tim Russell: Hey-- One-oh-seven point nine, K-Radio, alternative alternative. (INCOMPREHENSIBLE SONG, MACHINE RHYTHM, DISTORTED GUITAR SOLO. )


SS (SINGING, SHRILL, PUNKY): 'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
I hate you I hate you I hate you.
GK: And that's it. You thought radio would be romantic, adventurous (DISTANT BUGLE, HORSE WHINNIES, SHOUTS AS THEY MOUNT UP, GALLOPING AWAY) and you thought you'd earn big bucks. Instead, you sit in a tiny cubicle with a computer and every ten minutes you say.....


TR: Hey-- One-oh-seven point nine, K-Radio, alternative alternative. (MACHINE RHYTHM, UNDER...) And the station manager is an evil dwarf named Ono.


Tom Keith: Here's your paycheck, clown.


TR: (SHOCKED PAUSE) Thirteen dollars?


TK: Dollar a day, minus a dollar handling charges.


TR: But I need food-- rent--


TK: Here's some doughnuts. You can sleep in the cave. (STING, BRIDGE)


GK: What a disappointment radio is. And you seethe with bitter resentment.


TR (BITTER): One-oh-seven point nine, K-Radio, alternative alternative.


GK: Until one day you blow up the place. (BIG EXPLOSION WITH LONG FOLLOW THROUGH, RUMBLING) The computer, the whole transmitter, and the tower falls (CREAKING, CRACKING, FALLING, BIG CRUNCH). And K-Radio is no more.


TR: Oh oh.


GK: Your car keys. You left them in the building. You're on foot. (BLIZZARD) You make your way across the frozen wastes (TR SHIVERING, FOOTSTEPS IN SNOW) and you see visions in the whiteness--


SS (DREAMILY): Lie down. Sleep. Take it easy.


GK: You see Gramps.


TR (OLD): I'm sorta tuckered out. Gonna get me a nap.


GK: You see Mom.


SS (MOM): Getting late, Skipper. Time to put on your jammies and go night-night.


GK: And just when you're about to do it-- (WHUMP, TR OOOFFF) you walk into a cottage. There's a light in the window. And you hear a violin. (JN VIOLIN, SLOW CLASSICAL PIECE) And you knock. (KNOCKS) And the door falls open (CREAK OPEN). And there's a blind man.


TK: Come in, my friend. (DOOR CLOSE) Sit down.


GK: So you do. There's a cougar sitting in one chair (LOW GROWL). And an owl in another. (OWL) So you choose another chair.


TK: Have a bowl of soup.


TR: Oh boy. I haven't eaten in hours. I'm starving. (SLURPING AND SUCKING)


TK: Is it good?


TR: It's great. What is it? Chicken?


TK: It's snake soup. (STING)


TR: (QUEASY) Oh--


TK: And I like to put some moss and mold in it. And leaves and grass. And croutons. And stuff the owl brings back.


TR: I see. What about the cougar?


TK: What cougar? (STING)


GK: You're eating snake soup made by a blind man with stuff in it supplied by an owl and there's a cougar with you that doesn't belong to the blind man and there's a blizzard outside.


TR: I'm in big trouble.


GK: No, you're not. You're just in radio. Real radio.


TR: I'm a big big trouble.


GK: Naw. Just have a piece of rhubarb pie. You'll be okay. Nothing gets the taste of shame and humiliation out of your mouth quite like Bebopareebop Rhubarb Pie. (THEME)