Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. Ladies and gentlemen. I have in this box twenty-three white mice. Mice which have been painstakingly trained over the past few years, to squeak at a selected pitch. (he raises a mouse by its tail) This is E sharp... and this one is G. You get the general idea. Noe these mice are so arranged upon this rack, that when played in the correct order they will squeak 'The Bells of St Mary's'. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you on the mouse organ 'The Bells of St Mary's'. Thank you.
He produces two mallets. He starts striking the mice while singing quietly 'The Bells of St Mary's'. Each downward stroke of the mallet brings a terribly squashing sound and the expiring squeak. It is quite clear that he is slaughtering the mice. The musical effect is poor. After the first few notes people are shouting 'Stop it, stop him someone, Oh my God'. He cheerfully takes a bow. He is hauled off by the floor manager.
Oh, Fuck, That was a Funny Episode!
