mob rules

(JOEL and 'BOTS take their seats.)

[Punks jerkin' back and forth]
JOEL AND TOM: (in harmony) "Hey, ho, boatman row, sailin' down the river on the O-hi-ho...."

[Pipe-wielding punks and dangling go-go cage]
JOEL: I've heard of batting cages, but this is ridiculous!
CROW: Suh-WINNNNG-and-a-miss!
TOM: Noonan! Noonan!

[Amorphous pack of seething bodies]
TOM: Boy, these Red Apple sales are really getting rough!
JOEL: Looks more like opening night of the Starck Club to me.

[Trent's first appearance]
TOM: Joel, look, it's that guy who got your old job!
JOEL: Hey, how come he doesn't have to wear the crappy uniform?

[Crowd attacks the fence]
TOM: Disgruntled American Gladiators rejects storm the studio!
CROW: Heh heh...thank you, Jack Dangers!

[Asian girl with screaming buzz-cut painted punk]
CROW: "Me love you long time!"
JOEL: Henry ROLLINS? What is he doing here?

[Sea of thrashing punks]
TOM: (Minne-zooda voice) Ooh, the walleyes are really runnin' this year, ya noo.
CROW: (Minne-zooda voice) Eeeyeah, but those ones are too scrawny. Ya gotta throw 'em back when they're like that, ya noo.

CROW: Hey, look -- La Cage aux Fools!
TOM: No, it's the sequel to Cave Dwellers. Cage Dwellers, of course! Hee hee!

dance party u.s.a.

[Guy suspended in net]
CROW: Looks like the Gorton's fisherman has gotten into B&D.

[Big line-dance move]
JOEL: It's Paula Abdul and the Laker Girls!
CROW: And one and two and kick and slap...feel the burn, people!
TOM: (Sheena Easton voice) If you don't have half an hour a day to get beaten up by psychotic strangers, you don't deserve a hot date.

[Full shot of NIN]
CROW: Wait a minute -- what happened to the second drummer?
TOM: Oh, he's outta there. I heard it was 'cause he tried to take over the band.

[About Trent's fishnets...]
TOM: He's got No Nonsense Fetish Pantyhose -- with the breathable cotton panel.
JOEL: Uh, that's not how you wear your Joe Namath netted slingshot briefs, Trent.

scream real loud!

[Tracking shot of crowd and band]
JOEL: Oh, I get it -- it's Texas-OU weekend!
TOM: Either that, or an Aggie pep rally.
CROW: Doooodz, get Reveille! It's time to light the Bonfire! Woooooooooooo!
TOM: (singing) "Give 'em hell, give 'em hell, stand up and yell, hey! Waaaaaaar eagle --"
CROW: That's the wrong fight song, you idiot!

[Guy swinging from rope]
JOEL: (Spiccoli voice) You're high. You are so high.
CROW: Y'know, we could've gone the whole rest of the video without hearing that one, Joel.
JOEL: Crow, try not to ruin my fun, okay?

[Female dancer doing handspring]
CROW: Look, Nadia Comaneci has gone native!

[Random thrashing by crowd and band]
TOM: Frankie Goes To Hollywood: The Metal Years.
JOEL: This is what Jesse Helms thinks a rave looks like.
CROW: Hey Joel, if Jesse Helms had a heart attack from seeing this video...would you stick around to watch?
JOEL: Crow, that's not a nice thing to speculate about.
CROW: Well, would you?
JOEL: Probably, but that's not the point, okay?

[Scantily dressed dancer]
CROW: Wardrobe by Betty Page.
TOM: Hair by Cousin It.

fists of fury

[More seething, fist-shaking, etc.]
CROW: What is it with human guys, anyway?
TOM: These are humans? You mean, they actually answer to the name homo sapiens?
JOEL: Well, to be honest, Tom, I'd probably think twice before I said the word "homo" in front of any of these people.

[Rich looking a little unsteady]
CROW: Well. Looks like you made an early night of it, Mr. Patrick.

[Punks shaking go-go cage]
CROW: Joel, where do they find people like this?
JOEL: (pause) I don't know.
CROW: Yes, you do-ooooo...
JOEL: No, I don't.
CROW: (aside to Servo) He does, y'know.

[Guy in hoop lowered from ceiling]
TOM: (comlink style) Red Leader, this is Gold Leader -- I've got a guy in a giant earring at twelve o'clock....
CROW: It's the secret notebook of Leonardo daVinci!

[Punks grabbing at the band]
JOEL: How many times do I have to tell you kids not to tease the monkeys?
CROW: Monkees? Hey, berate them if you must, but at least these guys play their own instruments. Well, most of the time.

hello world

[Trent bellowing into mic]
TOM: (singing) "I'm just a sweet transvestite...."
JOEL: Looks more like a rubbervestite to me.
CROW: (Corey Feldman voice) "If you get weird, or start vamping out in any way...."

[Trent doubled over, again]
CROW: This guy has to go to the bathroom all the time!
JOEL: (mom voice) You should've thought of that before we left the house, young man!

[Punk shaking fist]
JOEL: (singing) "Fight, fight for our Friend-ly High --"
CROW: Doesn't look like a very friendly high to me.
JOEL: Oh, so now who's makin' with the stoner jokes, huh?

[Pierced punk screaming through cage]
JOEL: I wonder what would happen if that guy's lip ring got hung on the bars.
CROW: Ooooooooh! Owie owie owie! That hurts just thinkin' about it!
TOM: And we don't even have nerve endings!

[Punks pulling back and forth on cage]
CROW: (singing) "I'm a boatman, gee I'm sore, I came home without an oar!"
JOEL: Oh, you don't even know what that means.
CROW: Hey, you programmed us. Wiener.

[Skinheads on rampage]
JOEL: Why don't they just take these guys bowling?
TOM: Atti-CA! Atti-CA!
CROW: This video is pretty good, but what they really need right here is a musical number.

[Punks yanking on fence-climber's legs]
JOEL: Okay, pull hard, and make a wish!

[Still more cage-storming]
JOEL: Hey look, kids, I know you're flunking metal shop, but let's not get ridiculous! We can talk about this!
CROW: Hey, that's industrial arts to you, fella! Heh heh. "Industrial arts." Get it?
TOM: In that case, shouldn't they all be wearing safety goggles?

[Guy using sparking power tool on lock]
CROW: "Light cage and get away."
JOEL: "Toolmaster From Brainerd"!
TOM: No, Toolmaster Jef Maynard!

[Punks breaking into cage]
CROW: So ends another day in the halls of Atlantic City High School.
JOEL: (singing) "Schoooooooool's out! For! SUMMER!"
TOM: And now, so are we. Here's where we came in, fellas.

[Reverse door sequence: 1...2...3...4...5...6...]

All hands on deck!