pokerpi

Poker at Al's - Pirates

MAILBAG
From: Senator@dpm.senate.gov

Subject: Re: RL-LNW Volume 82

Dear BartCop,

Thank you for contacting my office via the Internet.
I always look forward to hearing from you.

By the way, I LOVE the "Poker at Al's" bit.

Sincerely,

Daniel Patrick Moynihan

United States Senator

===================================================

Every now and then, GOP powerbrokers get together with bag men
from Big Cancer to play a friendly little game of poker.

Rush: Hey, guys. Look who's back!

Buchanan: Stymie, what are you doing here?
                I heard you lost $60,000 last week.
                Jesus, that's really stupid, even for a ni...
                ...that's really stupid.

Thomas: Maybe Kweisi Mfume put a Voodoo curse on me.
I'll do better tonight.

Dornan: Excuse me, Mr. Thomas. Do you sing or dance?

Thomas: Why, no. I can't sing and I'm a rather clumsy dancer.
Why do you ask?

Dornan: I heard the Village People hired "a Conductor,"
and there's something about the way you move...

D'Amato: I have an idea...
Since Stymie lost so much last week,
Let's let him sit in the Magic Chair.

Thomas: The Magic Chair?

D'Amato: Yes, this chair over here..

Thomas: The one surrounded by mirrors?

D'Amato: Yep, that's the lucky chair.

Thomas: Golly... Thanks guys.
You like me..
You really like me.

Rush: Fonz, you shameless whore.

D'Amato: Wait! Let me get this straight:
You... You, Rush Limba, are calling me a whore?

Quayle: I don't get it...

Buchanan: Knock it off, you three.
                Don't start fighting again.

Rush:   OK, it's my deal, this next game is low Chicago.
           Whoever has the little spade gets half the pot.
           Everybody in?

Quayle: Wow! Can you say "little spade?"

Rush: Why not? There's no reporters here. (Laughs)

Quayle: I don't get it.

Dornan: Can you believe those candy-ass Orange County voters?

D'Amato: Are you ever going to stop whining about that?

Dornan: Goddamn beaners stealing that election from me...
I'm so mad I could shit myself.

Rush: Why do...
Can't you...
Can we just play some poker?

Buchanan: What do you call a Dallas Cowboy huddle?
A drug cartel.

What do you call a Dallas Cowboy in a suit?
The defendant.

Quayle: I don't get it.

Rush: I just want to play a little poker.

Dornan: Hey, Limba, you gaining weight?
You look like you might've gained a few pounds.

Rush:   Yeah, I've been eating out a lot.
           I really need to lose some weight.
           My body is very soft.

D'Amato: Hey, Dornan. Is that true?

Dornan: Fuck you, D'Amato.
I'll kick your Italian ass, mob connection or not.

Buchanan: Rush, what happened to the Chocolate Chip?

Rush: Renquist made him stay after court and write
"I will not cheat off Antonin" 1000 times.

Dornan: Where's Jesse Helms?

Buchanan: Jesse and Bob Barr are out back playing, "Maim that Coon!"

Dornan: ...and they didn't invite me?

Rush: Who's hogging the potato chips?

Quayle: P, ...O ...T ...T

Rush: WRONG!!

Quayle: Why is everybody laughing at me?

D'Amato: I've got a joke. Did you hear Jesse Jackson and
Louis Farrakhan are opening a toy store in Oakland?

They're going to call it "We Be Toys."

Quayle: I don't get it.

Buchanan: I got a joke.
Knock! Knock!

Quayle: Coming!

Rush:   Danny, get back here.
           How can you be so stupid?
           Let's just play cards, OK?

Quayle: No, wait. I want to hear the joke:

Buchanan: OK.
Knock! Knock!

Quayle: Come in, door's open!

All: (Laughs)

Thomas: I heard a funny joke, too.
Knock-Knock!

Quayle: I'll get it!!

All: (Laughs)

Thomas: Sit down, fool.
Knock-Knock!

Quayle: I'm COMING!

Buchanan: Stymie, you can't do Knock-Knock jokes here.
It confuses the Vice President...

Dornan: Hell, I heard a pretty good joke.
What do you call two lesbians in a canoe?
Give up?

Fur traders!

...why isn't anybody laughing?

Rush: Let's play some poker.
The pot's not right.
Who didn't ante?

All: D'Amato!!

Rush: Where are the pota....
I mean...
Where are the corn chips?

Quayle: Oooh! Another chance!
Let me try to spell corn.

Dornan: Here we go again.

Quayle: ...C.... E..

McLaughlin: WRONG!!!

Quayle: I feel like such a tool...

Thomas: Excuse me, Mister Rush.
I was interested in hyp...hyp...

Rush: It's hypnosis, Slappy.

Thomas: Hyp-MO-sis...hyp-MO-sis...

Rush: No... hypnosis.

Thomas: Hyp-MO-sis.

Rush: (sigh) Close enough.

Thomas: I know you've lost some weight lately, and I'd like
to see if your Hyp-Mo-sis could help me, too.
Would you Hyp-Mo-tize me?

Rush: Well... you gotta to be smarter than Dan Quayle.

Quayle: I don't get it.

Rush: OK, let's try to concentrate...
Stare into my eyes - look deep...deep into my eyes.

Thomas: You have lovely eyes.

Rush: Later...
You're getting drowsy... your mind is afloat.

Thomas: My mind is a what?

Rush: Tell me, what are you thinking?

Thomas: I.... I've never met Mr. Quayle before.
He seems quite the gentleman.
Is... Dan Quayle gay?

Rush: Why do you ask?

Thomas: He seems to prefer the company of men.

Rush: Who doesn't?

Thomas: Is it true that Mrs. Quayle is a lesbian?

Rush:   Worse - she's a smart woman.
           Now, be very quiet and relax.
           Listen to the sound of my voice and concentrate on
           a shiny object in the room. Have you found an object?

Thomas: Yes. I'm staring at the award D'Amato just got
from the Swiss Government - the 330 carat diamond.

Rush: You're getting very sleepy.

Thomas: Yes ...sleepy ...like listening to your show...

Rush:    Oh....you'll pay for that one. Yes you will, Slappy.
            When I count to three, you'll be awake and refreshed.
            One.... two.....THREE!

Thomas: Hey, Rush. Can you Hyp-MO-tize me?

Rush:    You dolt! The word is hypnotize.
            Say it!
            Hypnotize.

Thomas: Hyp-MO-tize.

Rush:    God, ...I wish I was a Democrat....
            OK, Stymie, listen to the sound of my voice.

           When I snap my fingers, you'll become a pirate.
            Understand?
            You're a PIRATE from the goddamn Carribean.
            You have an eyepatch, and a parrot on your shoulder!
           (Snap)

Thomas: AAAAAAAAAAAARGH!
              Prepare to walk the plank, matey.
              AAAAAAAAARGH!
              AAAAAAAARGH!
              AAAAAAARGH!

All:

Buchanan: I'll be go-to-hell.
Look at that son-of-a-bitch go.

D'Amato: For the love of fuck!
Rush, you're a genius!

Rush: Talent on loan from God.

Thomas: AAAAAAAAARGH!
              AAAAAAAARGH!
              AAAAAAAAARGH!
              AAAAAAAARGH!

Rush:    You can fucking STOP now, Slappy!
             ....Oh.....
             The silence feels so good....

             Listen to my voice, Slappy.
             Now, you're a singing teapot
                (Snap)

Thomas: (Singing)
I'm a little teapot - short and stout.
Here is my handle, here is my spout.

D'Amato: Rush, goddamn, this is awful, but it's hilarious.
How can you do it so easily?

Rush:   Ain't nothing to it...
           It seems the more stupid a person is,
           the easier it is to hynotize them.

D'Amato: Oh, that explains your stranglehold on Quayle.

Quayle:

Rush: Now, you're a black man.

Quayle: But, Rush. He's already..

D'Amato: Shut up, Dillhole!

Quayle: Dillhole?
Mr. D'Amato, you're 64 years old.
Dillhole?

D'Amato: Ok, then.
Shut up, Dickhead.
Feel better?

CRASH!

D'Amato: What the hell is that commotion at the door?

Masked Gunmen: HANDS UP EVERYBODY! THIS IS A HOLD UP!

---

What do the robbers want?

Money?

Or something infinitely more ...horrible?

================================

Tune in RL-LNW next week

- Same fat-time,

- Same fat-channel