Here's a bit that had a real brief shelf life. It was the Halloween after the 9/11 terrorist attacks. Then we had the anthrax scare, as envelopes tainted with anthrax were mailed to people and organizations around the country. Everyone in comedy was trying to figure it out, Prairie Home Companion included. I submitted a couple of things. One piece did get on air. One of my efforts that didn't make it to air was this piece, a horror parody about the various mailroom precautions that were being put in place. Re-reading it, I'm surprised that it actually plays out as a long, plotted parody piece, far longer than most of the stuff I submitted. Also, how quickly I was kinda blocking out the real horror and going all-in into the comedy. It's very much of its time, and yet, removed from it as well.
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It Came From the Mailroom
cast:
GK: Garrison Keillor
Postal workers 1, 2, A, B, C
PG: Postmaster General
NR: Narrator
GK: A programming note now, this Halloween Public Radio present a harrowing tale of horror; "It Came from the Mailroom."
P1: Okay, guys, everyone is worried about this anthrax---
P2: Not me! I'm wearing the anthrax patch. See?
P1: Fine, everyone except Jorgensen is worried about this anthrax but we have a new weapon to use...this!
(GASPS)
P2: What is it?
P1: The Postal Irradiator 2001. From now on, all our mail will pass through this machine and be bombarded with radiation which will kill off all those pesky microbes.
P2: Cool. Can I turn it on?
P1: Sit down, Jorgensen.
P2: Sorry. It's the patch. It makes me kinda jumpy.
P1: All right, let's load up the first batch of mail and let 'er rip!
(machine noises)
P1: That, my boys, is the sound of the USPS keeping America safe!
(musical fade)
NR: Later that night...
PA: Man, I hate the midnight shift.
PB: Me, too.
(scrapping noise)
PA: What was that?
PB: What was what?
PA That noise.
PB: I didn't hear anything.
PA: There was a definite noise.
PB: Must have been the wind.
PA: We're in the basement.
(scrapping noise, stumble)
PA: There it is again...coming from the room with all that irradiated mail.
PB: Some sacks must have fallen over. I'll go check.
PA: Maybe we should call someone?
PB: Are you a US Postal worker or aren't you? What a wussy. I'm going to open that door and---
(Monster roar)
PB: Ah!
(a struggle, eating noises)
PA: Davis! Oh no, it got Davis! I'm getting out of here!
(footsteps running upstairs. Continue. They pause, some heavy breathing. Running resumes. Door opens)
PA: Help! Help!
PC: What is it, Woodward?
PA: Downstairs! It got Davis!
PC: What got Davis?
PA: It, it was a pile of junk mail! Come to life! It got Davis!
PC: You're crazy!
PA: Oh, am I? Look!
(Monster roars)
PC: Holy Zip Code! It's a pile of mutated junk mail here to reek havoc! We should shoot it!
PD: No! It's a new life form. We should try to communicate with it. Find out what it wants. I'm going to talk to it...Hello, Mr. Mutant Junk Mail, I'm Postal Sorter Ralph Bellows. What brings you here?
(Monster roars. Struggle. Eating)
PC: Bellows! Bellows! Did you find out what it wants?
PD: Yes! Lunch! Ah!
PC: We have to shot it. Anyone here have a gun?
P1: I do.
P2: Me, too
P3: Here's one.
P4: How many you need?
GK: "It came from the Mailroom," a classic tale of science and mail gone awry. Thrill to the exciting conclusion as the postal authorities chase the creature to the top of the American Publishing House Building.
PC: We'll never get it now!
PG: Never say never, Mr. Postal worker.
PA: It's the Postmaster General!
PG: Attention! Okay, troops, listen up and listen up hard. We're going in there. It's up to us, because we are the mail professionals. Everyone have their hand-held cancel stamp?
PC: Yes, sir.
PG: Then let's get in there and postmark that thing back to hell! Charge!
GK: "It came from the Mailroom," from the producer's of last year's frightening tale "Dawn of the Dead Letter Office." This Halloween on your local public radio station.
end
GK: Garrison Keillor
Postal workers 1, 2, A, B, C
PG: Postmaster General
NR: Narrator
GK: A programming note now, this Halloween Public Radio present a harrowing tale of horror; "It Came from the Mailroom."
P1: Okay, guys, everyone is worried about this anthrax---
P2: Not me! I'm wearing the anthrax patch. See?
P1: Fine, everyone except Jorgensen is worried about this anthrax but we have a new weapon to use...this!
(GASPS)
P2: What is it?
P1: The Postal Irradiator 2001. From now on, all our mail will pass through this machine and be bombarded with radiation which will kill off all those pesky microbes.
P2: Cool. Can I turn it on?
P1: Sit down, Jorgensen.
P2: Sorry. It's the patch. It makes me kinda jumpy.
P1: All right, let's load up the first batch of mail and let 'er rip!
(machine noises)
P1: That, my boys, is the sound of the USPS keeping America safe!
(musical fade)
NR: Later that night...
PA: Man, I hate the midnight shift.
PB: Me, too.
(scrapping noise)
PA: What was that?
PB: What was what?
PA That noise.
PB: I didn't hear anything.
PA: There was a definite noise.
PB: Must have been the wind.
PA: We're in the basement.
(scrapping noise, stumble)
PA: There it is again...coming from the room with all that irradiated mail.
PB: Some sacks must have fallen over. I'll go check.
PA: Maybe we should call someone?
PB: Are you a US Postal worker or aren't you? What a wussy. I'm going to open that door and---
(Monster roar)
PB: Ah!
(a struggle, eating noises)
PA: Davis! Oh no, it got Davis! I'm getting out of here!
(footsteps running upstairs. Continue. They pause, some heavy breathing. Running resumes. Door opens)
PA: Help! Help!
PC: What is it, Woodward?
PA: Downstairs! It got Davis!
PC: What got Davis?
PA: It, it was a pile of junk mail! Come to life! It got Davis!
PC: You're crazy!
PA: Oh, am I? Look!
(Monster roars)
PC: Holy Zip Code! It's a pile of mutated junk mail here to reek havoc! We should shoot it!
PD: No! It's a new life form. We should try to communicate with it. Find out what it wants. I'm going to talk to it...Hello, Mr. Mutant Junk Mail, I'm Postal Sorter Ralph Bellows. What brings you here?
(Monster roars. Struggle. Eating)
PC: Bellows! Bellows! Did you find out what it wants?
PD: Yes! Lunch! Ah!
PC: We have to shot it. Anyone here have a gun?
P1: I do.
P2: Me, too
P3: Here's one.
P4: How many you need?
GK: "It came from the Mailroom," a classic tale of science and mail gone awry. Thrill to the exciting conclusion as the postal authorities chase the creature to the top of the American Publishing House Building.
PC: We'll never get it now!
PG: Never say never, Mr. Postal worker.
PA: It's the Postmaster General!
PG: Attention! Okay, troops, listen up and listen up hard. We're going in there. It's up to us, because we are the mail professionals. Everyone have their hand-held cancel stamp?
PC: Yes, sir.
PG: Then let's get in there and postmark that thing back to hell! Charge!
GK: "It came from the Mailroom," from the producer's of last year's frightening tale "Dawn of the Dead Letter Office." This Halloween on your local public radio station.
end
