Vintage Scripts (a collection of original amateur screenplays).

[Low_Roads]

Ladles of the Rock Auk.

A parody of "Raiders of the Lost Ark", I conceived this as a radio script and wrote it not long after the movie appeared in theaters. It was actually recorded by me and a couple friends, each of us voicing several of the roles… one of these days I may recover the cassette from the mountain of junk I've got in storage (raiders of the lost tape). The labored stuff in the beginning about steak and kidney pie was patterned after the Roma Wine commercials from the "Suspense" radio program, in which the announcer spelled out R O M A as part of the promotion. Tonight's presentation is a rewrite: the original was rather rough-edged, with much dicier language.

High Adventure and Far-Away Places

presents

Ladles of the Rock Auk

a radio play by
Foster Glenn Oakes​

Characters (in order of appearance)
Announcer
Snotty Englishman
Narrator
Idaho Joe
Indian Guide
LeBoob
Professor Snavely
Government Official #1
Government Official #2
Miscellaneous Egyptian
Lola
Rick, the Bartender
Small, sinister Nazi Agent
Head Egyptian Digger
Nazi Orderly
Field Marshal


Announcer: Tonight, we lift you out of the everyday world, out of the hum-drum, boring existence you lead, to join us in a world of high adventure and far-away places. Step through the magic portal into a realm of imagination, as we present: (tinned effect) "High Adventure and Far-Away Places"!

Up show theme.

Announcer: "High Adventures and Far-Away Places" is a radio program designed to carry you to far-away corners of the globe in search of high adventure. While other radio programs attempt to carry you to far-away places in a spirit of high adventure, we feel that our adventures are higher and our places farther away than those of any program yet aired.

Fade out show theme.

Announcer: We'll join our exciting adventure in just a moment. But first, let me ask you an important question: have you ever been embarrassed at not knowing what to serve to your friends from the British Isles? Let me tell you what happened to a friend of mine. He was entertaining an English school chum, and found himself faced with this very dilemma. He hurried to the market and bought the first steak-and-kidney pie he could find. When they had finished their meal, my friend asked his chum what he thought. The Englishman replied:

Snotty English Voice: It was good. But it wasn't "Colonel Heart-Warm's".

Announcer: Yes, my friend found out too late that if you want the best in steak-and-kidney pies, you must buy "Colonel Heart-Warm's Steak-and-Kidney Pies". But then, "Colonel Heart-Warm's Steak-and-Kidney Pies" have only been available in this country a very short time. If you don't want to make the same terrible mistake, be sure to ask for "Colonel Heart-Warm's Steak-and-Kidney Pies" at your local food store. Remember… that's C-o-l-o-n-e-l H-e-a-r-t-hyphen-W-a-r-m-apostrophe-s S-t-e-a-k a-n-d K-i-d-n-e-y P-i-e-s; the only Steak-and-kidney pies that will make an Englishman's heart warm.

Up dramatic music.

Announcer: Now, on with this week's tale of "High Adventure and Far-Away Places": "Ladles of the Rock Auk".

Narrator: The setting: a steaming Amazon jungle. In a clearing stands a moldering, vine-encrusted crypt, awaiting the arrival of two trail-scarred, weather-beaten men.

Fade dramatic music. Up jungle sounds. Sound of hacking machete, increasingly louder.

Joe: Well, you slimy native trail guide, there's the entrance to the tomb. What do you think?

Trail Guide: Señor, I am very much afraid. No one who enters there has ever been heard from again.

Joe: Ha! You slimy native trail guides are all alike! Well, we're going through that cave mouth to get that golden idol, or my name's not Idaho Joe. Here, take this torch and do just what I tell you if you value your leathery hide.

Trail Guide: Si, señor.

Jungle sounds fade out. Up scary music.

Joe: Man! It's dark and spooky in here!

Trail Guide: Ahh! Señor! There are spiders all over me!

Joe: Wow! Look at the size of those tarantulas! Don't move... I'll brush 'em off with my bullwhip.

Sound of cracking whip.

Trail Guide: Owww!

Joe: Got him! Now I'll try for the one just below your left eye--

Trail Guide: (desperately) Never mind, señor. They no longer bother me.

Joe: This joint's jammed full of skeletons with rats climbing out of their eyes and stuff like that. Hey, watch out! There's a big pit over there. Must be a thousand feet deep. Just think how you'd feel if you hit the bottom: every bone in your body broken… blood squirting out of busted joints. I'll bet it's crawling with fungus and--

Trail Guide: You have a most strange idea of a good time, señor.

Joe: Look! The idol up ahead, resting on that pedestal. Wow! Thousands of years, and it isn't even tarnished.

Trail Guide: Let us claim it! There is nothing to stop us--

Joe: Just hold on a second! See those patterns on the stone floor? Any one of them could trigger a poisoned dart. Now step only where I tell you.

Trail Guide: Si, señor.

Joe: Let's see now... this one here.

Sound of poisoned dart.

Trail Guide: Arghhhhh!

Joe: Okay. We know that one's no good. It must be this other one.

Scary music fades out.

Joe: There, that's better. Now, all I have to do is grab the idol, and--

Low rumbling.

Joe: Uh-oh. I'll bet that was a mistake.

Sound of falling rocks.

Joe: Damn! I'd better get outta here!

Up chase music. Sound of rocks crashing. Up jungle sounds.

Joe: Phew, that was close. But I made it. And I got the idol.

LeBoob: I will take that, Joe.

Dramatic music.

Joe: LeBoob, my arch-rival. With an crew of grubby face-painters.

Indians grumble.

LeBoob: Once more, Joe, I have outwitted you. Now I will order my Amazonian Indian followers to cut short your brilliant career.

Joe: Not if I can help it.

Chase music. Indian war cries. Arrows whiz by.

Joe: (puffing) Gotta get away before I take an arrow in the back. Hey, there's a vine. I'll swing on it.

Sound of a limb creaking. Sudden splash of water.


Next: Part 2.

 

[Low_Roads]

Part 2.​

Narrator: Meanwhile, at Stonehenge University, Joe is anxiously awaited by his colleague, Professor Snavely.

Snavely: Where could Joe be? He should have returned weeks ago.

Door opens. Heavy footsteps, labored breathing.

Snavely: Joe, my boy! You're here at last. Gad, you're soaked to the skin.

Joe: Sorry it took so long, but I had to swim here all the way from Brazil.

Snavely: Joe, there are some government men here to see you.

Joe: Yeah? Whose government?

Snavely: Ours! The United States government!

Joe: "Ours"? I thought you were a limey, Snavely.

Snavely: They're waiting in the lecture hall.

Sound of walking. A door opens.

Joe: Just 'cause we're allies doesn't mean we have to be chummy.

Snavely: Joe, these men are from the State Department.

Joe: Yeah? Which state?

Government Official #1: Idaho Joe, we've heard of your reputation--

Joe: Hey man, stories get around. You don't have to believe everything you hear.

Official #2: We've intercepted these messages transmitted by the Nazis. Perhaps you can make some sense of them.

Rustling of papers.

Joe: Holy smoke, Snavely! Look at this..."Tanis"!

Snavely: Tanis! The lost city! Men have searched for it for centuries! The abode of legends! Terrifying secrets!

Official #1: Gentlemen, please. That's "Tanis Corporation" writing paper. Why not read the text of the communication.

Joe: (mumbled reading) Hmmm. I don't see anything here except a reference to the "Ladles of the Rock Auk". Mean anything to you, Snavely?

Snavely: No.

Joe: Me either. I'm willing to take a look, though. Fix passage for me to Egypt.

Transition music. Fade to Egyptian street sounds: music, venders, etc.

Joe: Ah, it's good to be in the land of sand and sphinxes once again. Now let's see if I can find my hotel--wait a minute! Look at that big guy in the black robes! He's got six knives! It's him or me!

Gunshot.

Voice from Crowd: That tourist! He shot Ali the knife juggler! Get him!

Angry crowd sounds.

Joe: Damn! More crazy foreigners! I'd sure like to be chased by Americans for a change!

Up chase music.

Joe: They're still after me! Maybe I can ditch 'em behind this door.

Door opens and slams shut. Down chase music.

Joe: There. I should be safe now.

Lola: Idaho Joe! Long time, not see.

Joe: What the--well what do you know! Lola! I haven't seen you in a coon's age!

Lola: I have something for you, Joe...

Crack of fist to jaw.

Joe: (after a pause) Sorry I had to do that. But you know how I hate those slobbery kisses of yours.

Lola: Joe, you haven't changed a bit.

Joe: That crowd must be gone by now. Care to join me on an expedition?

Lola: I'm all yours, darling.

Narrator: Little does Joe know that across town, in a dingy little cafe, his arch-rival, LeBoob, speaks furtively to a small, sinister Nazi agent, clothed in black.

LeBoob: Hey Rick! Two more drinks.

Rick: (Bogart voice) Coming right up, sir.

Nazi: Hee hee hee! Now you understand Herr LeBoob, what it is we want you to find? Hee hee hee!

LeBoob: I understand thoroughly, small, sinister Nazi agent. Oh, did I mention how much I admire your outfit?

Nazi: Do you really like it? Hee hee hee! I found it in the quaintest little haberdashery.

Laboob: Ah ah ah! Don't let Mr. Hitler hear you say that!

Narrator: Not far away, on a lonely stretch of desert, a crew of diggers labors away, looking for the Ladles of the Rock Auk.

Diggers sing between blows of the picks.

Head Digger: We work in the sun!

Chorus: We work all day!

Head Digger: Our work is never done!

Chorus: We don't get no pay!

Head Digger: Someday we'll run...

Chorus: Far, far away!

Joe: Found anything yet?

Head Digger: Nothing so far, Joey.

Joe: Don't get familiar with me, you brown whelp!

Crack of a whip.

Head Digger: Aiiiii!

Digger: Master! Master! Look at this!

Joe: Well I'll be! A stone trap door! Come on, help me pry it up.

Sounds of sweat and stain. Heavy lid comes up.

Joe: Man, that's one dark hole. Hey, what's that at the bottom? That stuff squirming around down there? Oh no! I don't believe it!

Lola: What is it, Joe?

Joe: Worms! The whole floor is covered with them! I hate worms! My dad used to make me put them on the hook myself when I was a kid!

Lola: I see a little ledge just against one wall. If we lowered a rope, we could swing over to it.

Joe: I'm game.


Next: Part 3.

 

[Low_Roads]

Part 3.​

Transition music. It is spooky.

Joe: Careful. This ledge is narrow.

Sound of worms below.

Joe: Boy, look at 'em all wiggling down there. Just think how it would squirm if I dropped one down your blouse.

Lola: Ah, Joe. I see you still know how to show a lady a good time!

Joe: (pause) I can hardly see in this gloom. What is that huge figure up ahead?

Lola: It looks like a stone statue... of a penguin!

Joe: Not a penguin, Lola! An auk! This is the Rock Auk!

Lola: What is that circular object in its lap?

Joe: Why, it looks like... a punch bowl. And there inside! See how they gleam and shine? The ladles! The Ladles of the Rock Auk!

Lola: They seem to be made of cut crystal.

Joe: Look again, sweetheart. They've been carved out of a gigantic diamond! No wonder Hitler is after them!

Lola: Do you realize what it would mean if he were to possess them?

Joe: Yes! It means he could give better parties than the allied diplomats! The forces against Naziism would be ruined socially! We've got to get these to Washington at once. Here, you take one, I'll take the other.

Sound of worms rises.

Joe: There's the rope. We'll tie on the ladles; my loyal native diggers will haul them up, then lower the rope for us.

Lola: There they go.

Joe: Great! Now lower it back down for us! (pause) I said, lower it back down for us! (pause) Right away! (more pause) You miserable yellow-livered camel jockeys! Lower that damned rope!

Lola: Whew! Here it comes.

Joe: Sure. You just have to know how to talk to people. (sound of rope plummeting) Hey! They dumped in into the worms! You damn butter-fingers!

Lola: Shhh! You'll make them angry!

LeBoob: (from above) Greetings, Joe! That's quite a spot you're in!

Joe: LeBoob! My arch-rival!

LeBoob: Are you going to say that every time we meet?

Joe: Just what have you got on your slimy mind, you filthy, boot-licking Nazi lover?

LeBoob: I'm going to steal the ladles and seal you away forever in this god-forsaken pit.

Joe: Oh. Was is something I said?

Leboob: Farewell forever, Joe.

Joe: Not so fast. You don't actually think my loyal native diggers are going to let you get away with this, do you?

Leboob: Joe... I don't quite know how to tell you this. I had planned to let you escape. Sealing you in the tomb was their idea. Adieu!

Trap door slams shut. Suspense music. Fade to motorcade.

Nazi Agent: Hee hee hee! You have done well, LeBoob. The Field Marshal will be very pleased.

LeBoob: When will I get to meet the Field Marshal?

Nazi: Very soon now. We will head for his private island for a small victory party, then--(sound of horse's hooves)--What is that?

LeBoob: Look! A white Arabian charger! It's nearly equal to us. And the rider! (up William Tell Overture) That clear eye! That straight back! It can be only one man!

Nazi: Lawrence of Arabia?

LeBoob: No, you fool! It's Idaho Joe! He's after the ladles! You, in the troop carrier! Ram into that horse!

Nazi: It's no use! Idaho Joe jumped into the cab with the driver. The fool! That truck contains seven of my finest storm troopers!

Sounds of struggle. A yell.

LeBoob: Six, now.

Continued struggle.

Nazi: No matter. One American is no match for six Nazis--

Another yell.

LeBoob: Five!

Nazi: Hmmm. This Idaho Joe is persistent. Still, five of der Fuhrer's finest--

LeBoob: Three!

Nazi: Three?!

LeBoob: He used both hands.

Nazi: (sounds of men screaming) There go the last of my soldiers! (the truck accelerates) Now he's driving toward us at top steed!

LeBoob: Slow down, Joe! Don't you know you could cause an accident?

Joe: I'm gonna do for you, LeBoob!

LeBoob: First, I must know! How on earth did you escape from that pit?

Joe: You wouldn't believe me if I told you.

LeBoob: Please, try me!

Joe: Okay. I waded through the worms to the stone statue, tipped it over with my brute strength, and brought the chamber down around our ears. Then, Lola and me fought our way through a room full of skeletons, disabled a Nazi airplane, and while Lola kept the whole German army at bay, I stole a horse and rode eighty miles at full gallop to catch up to you. Well? Do you believe me?

Pause.

LeBoob: I have nothing to say.

Nazi: Look out! He's going to crash into us! Eeeeeek!

Squealing collision. Music fades out.


Next: conclusion.

 

[Low_Roads]

Part 4.​

Fade in on submarine sounds.

Joe: Where am I?

Lola: We're on a Nazi u-boat, heading for some unknown destination. LeBoob and the small, sinister Nazi agent have taken us prisoner.

Joe: Swell! This really makes my day!

Lola: Joe... these may be our last hours together. There's something I've always wanted to say to you.

Joe: Yeah, Lola sweetheart? What is it?

Lola: I've always hated that perpetual five o'clock shadow. Why don't you either shave or grow a beard!

Sound of hatch.

Nazi: It is my honor to tell you that we have arrived at the Field Marshal's private island.

Joe: Now I suppose we'll be dragged off to cells and tortured and beaten with rubber hoses.

Lola: For God's sake, Joe! Don't give them ideas!

Nazi: On the contrary! The Field Marshal has ordered you dressed for dinner.

Joe: Dressed for dinner? Maybe I had you guys wrong. Are you sure he wants us dressed for dinner?

Nazi: Certainly! You are to be the main course! Hee hee hee!

Transition music. Fade in on party sounds.

LeBoob: What a wonderful affair! I compliment your Field Marshal. When will he be joining us?

Nazi: Hee hee hee! He will arrive in moments. Oh, I must say you look splendid this evening! I adore that purple robe. And the gold turban makes you look ten years younger.

LeBoob: What, this old thing? I ran across it in a 2000 year old Tibetan tomb. Isn't that right, Joe? That was where I stole if from you, wasn't it?

Joe: I've got nothing to say to you, LeBoob.

Nazi: What is the matter? Don't you enjoy our celebration?

Joe: I don't want to appear to be a sourball, but tying Lola and me to a roasting spit is not my idea of courtesy.

Nazi: Ah! The Field Marshal has arrived!

Joe: Good! I've got a few words for him, too.

Up "Star Wars" music. Heavy breathing.

Darth Vader: I see you've made our guests comfortable. Excellent!

Joe: Darth Vader?! What's going on here? What are you doing in a Paramount production?

Vader: At last, Solo, you are in my power!

Joe: What's he talking about?

Nazi: Don't provoke him. He's had a particularly bad couple of years.

LeBoob: Your Field Marshal wishes to make a toast.

Nazi: Orderly, bring glasses and the punch bowl. And use the good crystal this time!

Orderly: Ja, mein herr.

Nazi: We shall serve the punch with the fabled diamond ladles. That should please Herr Vader. LeBoob, you may do the honors.

LeBoob: Why, you are too kind!

Joe: I wouldn't if I were you, LeBoob. Heaven only knows what might happen.

LeBoob: Oh, you're just trying to mar my moment of glory. Hand me the ladles.

Joe: Lola! Whatever happens, keep your eyes shut. I've got a feeling all hell is gonna break loose.

Sound of ladles in punch bowl.

LeBoob: Something is wrong here. (bubbling sound) The punch is beginning to froth and boil. This is ridiculous! I only sneaked in a fifth of sherry.

Nazi: Look! Ghosts are rising out of the bowl! (ghost sounds.)

Joe: Must be shades of old temperance leaders, LeBoob.

LeBoob: That's not funny, Joe!

Sounds of general confusion: cries, wind, etc. Scary music.

Nazi: All my storm troopers are being turned into skeletons! This is horrible!

Joe: Yeah, Good help is hard to find these days.

Vader: It's the Force! The Force! The Darrrrrrk Side!

Nazi: The Field Marshal is out of his head! Oh no! He's crumpled into a pile of black plastic! LeBoob! LeBoob! What are we going to do?

LeBoob: Convert, before it's too late! Do you have a copy of the Torah handy?

Nazi: Ahhhhhh!

LeBoob: Ahhhhhh!

Fade to silence.

Lola: Is it safe to look now, Joe?

Joe: I've got to level with you, Lola. I didn't really have my eyes shut. I was peeking the whole time.

Lola: Then why did you tell me to keep my eyes shut?

Joe: Look, don't get sore. It was no big thing. Seeing fifty people melt is just like seeing one person melt.

Lola: Get me out of here.

Joe: Okay, kid. The hellfire seems to have melted our bonds, too. Man, what a mess. LeBoob never should have done it.

Lola: Done what, Joe?

Joe: The spirits. He should never have put them in the punch. They were bound to come back on him. Well, at least we're safe.

Lola: We're also stuck.

Joe: What do you mean?

Lola: I mean we're on an island and there's no way off. Unless, of course, you know how to drive a submarine.

Joe: Well, things could be worse. This place is pretty snug. Plenty to eat and drink. Hey, Lola...

Lola: Yes, Joe?

Joe: Care for some punch?

Lola: Joe!

Joe: Just joking, Lola!

End music.

Announcer: And so ends another thrilling tale of "High Adventure and Far-Away Places". Until next week, this is your announcer saying good night... Good night!

Concluding music up and out.


Well, I'm finally tapped out of prepared material. However, I don't plan to wrap this thread up as I did with "Pokemon Poetry" and "Tales Form the Low Roads", since it's possible I still might exhume a few forgotten old screenplays from stuff in storage. Also, there's a further Commander Duck treatment I'd like to include. It's a blending together of several early drafts, a project I was working on a few years back and only half finished. Once it's ready, I'll present it here… but that's not likely to happen for quite awhile. So, for the foreseeable future, I'm done. My thanks to all of you who've read and enjoyed this collection, particularly to those who spiced up the proceedings with lively commentary! I had a great time! Hope you did too!