Elephant Larry: Sketch Comedy

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Features --> Ask an Elephant

Archives: September, 2003

(9-30-03)
Acy-licious asks: Dear Geoff (& Chris), I recently read your Hooters review, and I couldn't figure out why you chose to go there in the first place. There can't be a shortage of chain restaurants with terrible chicken sandwiches in Baltimore. Why did you choose the one with terrible sandwiches and waitresses in high tops and short shorts? Didn't you know it would be uncomfortable and sucky? Does this have something to do with Geoff and dead hookers? Because, really, 'Hooters' is like 'Hookers' without the k... and with a t... and you don't really say the 'oo' in the same way... but you know what I mean.

Geoff and Chris answer: Acy: To answer your question, we have decided to do a restaurant review.

Walt Whitman Rest Stop

Between Exits 5 and 6 (?)
New Jersey Turnpike

If you're driving your Dad's minivan to Baltimore, you're going to need gas. And what better place to get gas than the Walt Whitman Rest Stop? To answer that question, there are many, many better places to get gas than the Walt Whitman Rest Stop. Let's take a look!

Don't be fooled by the name. The Walt Whitman Rest Stop has nothing to do with poetry. It does not celebrate the power of self. It does not nurture the soul. It does not embrace youth. In fact, the three of us were over forty minutes older by the time we escaped with our gas.

A little factoid about New Jersey: all their gas stations are full-serve. This left our entire line of ten cars or so at the mercy of some guy whom we will name Joe. Joe was slow. How slow was Joe? Sooooo slow. So slow that when Chris went to pee and buy Vanilla Cokes, he returned to find the minivan in the exact same spot. Thirty minutes later, we finally arrived at Joe's pump and spent those last ten (!) minutes complaining about the INTENSE HUMIDITY AND MOTH SWARMS. But hey, Chris says the bathrooms were fine.

Walt Whitman Rest Stop gets a one (which is still higher than Hooter's zero!) It's too humid, it's too mothy and it prevents you from getting to Baltimore before 11pm, at which time all the restaurants there are closed, except for Hooters, to answer your question, Acy!

Don't go to Baltimore. But if you do go to Baltimore, don't go to Walt Whitman Rest Stop. If you have to choose one, go to Walt Whitman Rest Stop. But don't read Walt Whitman. He gets a zero too, just like Hooters.

- Geoff Haggerty & Chris Principe

(9-23-03)
An Inquiring Mind asks: I'm coming to see the show at the Tank, and was wondeing if there were any props I should bring along to help enrich my experience, a la Rocky Horror. Wouldn't want to show up unprepared.

Elephant Larry answers: Ink Mind,

Incessantly glad you asked! You see, due to our status as a cult classic, Elephant Larry has a wide variety of wacky little tricks, gimmicks and traditions that enhance our shows to the barely tolerable level we struggle to maintain. But I'm not going to tell you what they are. Just kidding! Here's what they are:

Whenever a Larry enters a skit, you yell "Hooray!"

Whenever a Larry sits in a chair, you yell "Would you like me to get that for you!"

Whenever Geoff enters, you throw money at the stage!

Whenever a Larry proposes a toast in a skit, you're supposed to prepare them breakfast in bed!

Whenever Elephant Larry does a subpar skit, you understand!

Another fun thing our fans like to do is dress up as their favorite Elephant Larry. Why just the other week at our Shark Show performance, we saw some of our wacko fans wearing khakis! And jeans! There was even one guy who dressed up exactly like Stefan whom we later determined to actually be Stefan. Which made sense considering he kept saying "I am Stefan."

And that's just a smattering of the shenanigans which ensue around any Elephant Larry performance. Some things have to remain a secret, of course, but there's one thing I can tell those Elephant Larry virgins out there. Wear lots of underwear! Believe me, it'll come in handy! Yikes! Whoa! Hubba-hubba!

(9-16-03)
A Budding Chef asks: Hey Jeff, what's your recipe for disaster?

Jeff answers: Dear Budding Chef,

Recipe for Disaster (makes 1 portion that you'll never forget)

2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
2 1/4 cups all-purpose POWER!
2 1/4 cops with nothing to lose
1 rogue agent with nothing to live for
1 love that doesn't know how to die
2 tbsp. evil that knows no bounds
4 dump trucks filled with pure gold, in blocks
13 tons of pure liquid heroin crack juice, loosely distributed throughout the city
1 young man with a deadly secret that will bring them all together
6 code words that can tear them all apart
salt and pepper to taste

1. Combine flour, POWER!, the love that doesn't know how to die, and the rogue agent in a small mixing bowl. Set aside.

2. Beat the cops and the young man with a deadly secret with a whisk until soft peaks form. Let this mixture sit right next to the rogue agent mixture until it's too close for comfort. The deadly secret may double in size. Cover with saran wrap and refrigerate for 3 hours.

3. Meanwhile, 4 dump trucks filled with solid gold blocks make their way down the city's central thoroughfare as the world's deadliest drug, liquid heroin crack juice, corrupts neighborhood upon neighborhood of innocent children. A faceless evil that knows no bounds is poised to dominate our city. Where are the cops?!!

4. They're in the refrigerator.

5. Find the 6 secret code words and decipher them before it's too late.

6. Remove cop mixture from the refrigerator and slowly fold it into the rogue agent mixture. This isn't going to be pretty.

7. Season to taste.

8. Place the plot into an oven and half-bake it for 90 minutes on super octane heat.

9. Remove from heat and don't let things cool down for one hot second. Garnish with popcorn, milk duds, coke, and twenty minutes of trailers. Serves the masses.

Recipe for Disaster (Quick Version)
Prep time: 110 intolerably long minutes.

1. See "Once Upon a Time in Mexico."

2. Wait and see if you ever get those (approx.) 2 hours back.

(9-9-03)
Laura asks: I guess the same would go for video of Jeff singing Glocca Mora in an Irish brogue? There are, unfortunately, no dead hookers involved.

Elephant Larry answers: Actually, Laura, we already HAVE video of that. I think. You're obviously referring to one of two things:

1) Jeff Solomon's performance in his high school production of Finian's Rainbow, singing the smash hit single, "How Are Things in Glocca Mora."

2) Jeff Solomon's title bout in the Ultimate Leprechaun Fighting League.

Luckily, we have videos of both. Also, luckily for you, we hate Jeff, so herewith, reviews of his performance in each:

1) Finian's Rainbow: Okay, so I saw this years ago, and I don't have the video on hand, so I don't really remember what part Jeff played. I know he wasn't the leprechaun, because that was this other guy who was making his exciting debut performance. So he must have been one of the other leads or something.

I do remember him in Schreiber High School's production of Twelve Angry Men, though. He played the bailiff, I believe, and his performance was stunning. Several times during the show, he entered, and then left the stage. He may even had a line at some point, and I seem to remember him delivering it. Pretty powerful stuff.

I don't think he sang much in that show, and neither did he sing as Willy Loman in Schreiber High School's production of Death of a Salesman. I mean, hey, who better to play a salesman at the end of the rope and the end of his life than a seventeen year old? I'm surprised Arthur Miller didn't think of that. I mean, honestly, at that point, why not have Linda (Willy's wife) break into a musical number called, "Attention Must Be Payed (But First I Gotta Pay the Bills)."

My grade of Jeff's performance in Finian's Rainbow: F.

2) Ultimate Leprechaun Fighting Championship: Seriously, this is the most awesome thing I've ever seen. In the sixth round, Jeff has managed to hold is own against the Mean Green Fighting Machine, the toughest Leprechaun in the league. He's bleeding, bruised, and covered in wish juice. But he keeps on fighting, and at the last second, just as you think the MGFM is gonna flatten him with his patented Pot o' Gold maneuver, Jeff starts singing Glocca Mora in an Irish brogue, and the MGFM kills himself.

Not only that, but after I ordered the tape, I got a free poster of Jeff for my room, a few stickers, and there are, of course, three other fights on the tape. It is completely worth the $5.95 I paid for it.

My grade of Jeff's performance in Ultimate Leprechaun Fighting Championship: A+.

So there you have it, Laura. Thanks for the offer, but we're all good here at Elephant Larry headquarters. Now if we could just get Geoff to stop slaughtering the working girls of NYC. Oh, that Geoff!

(9-2-03)
Michael Varis asks: How much would the group pay for embarassing pre-collegiate photos of Geoff?

Elephant Larry answers: An interesting proposition, Mr. Varis. Very interesting, indeed. I think the answer here lies in two factors:

1) The Group: Now, which group are you referring to? For example, I doubt the McLaughlin Group would pay a lot of money for pictures of Geoff Haggerty, as he isn't particularly newsworthy (no offense, Geoff).

If you are referring to "the group" as in "the collective," as in a Communist society, then I'd have to suggest you shop elsewhere. I've lived in a Socialist Commune, and let me tell you, they're not big on monetary exchanges.

On the other hand, if we're talking about Elephant Larry, there might be some interest. Let's suppose that is, in fact, the case.

2) Embarrassment Level: Embarrassment is subjective. I know people who get embarrassed if I sing in public. Although you probably don't have embarrassing pictures of Geoff singing, as that wouldn't translate well, what with photos being a visual medium and all.

On the other hand, if you have pictures of Geoff slaying a hooker, that's a different story. Or if he's caught in a compromising position with Ruth Bader Ginsburg. Or if he's sleeping, and there's a tiny rivulet of drool dripping down his chin onto a slain hooker. Those are all embarrassing.

If they're pictures of him with his hair looking funny, or his shirt off, we're not interested. Go peddle your smut elsewhere.

So how much would the group pay? Assuming you are referring to Elephant Larry, and the photos are pretty embarrassing (Geoff having sex with a blue whale, etc., etc.), then we'd probably pay a LOT of money. Probably hundreds of dollars.

But only if we could get the negatives, and burn them. Because we don't want Geoff to suffer any more that he has. Poor guy. All those dead hookers.