Ganymede and Titan

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Attack of the Killer Italian Y-Fronts

First published 14th September 2003.

[Punchy, frantic theme music plays.]

ANNOUNCER: (Chris Barrie)
Coming soon to your cinema, a new regime of terror. Something so foul and sick, you'll never feel safe again. Attack of the Killer Italian Y-Fronts! It started in a textual research foundation.

JEFF: (Nick Maloney)
John, I won't allow it, John.

JOHN: (Chris Barrie)
We've put too much money in this project to call it off now.

JEFF:
John, I know we wanted to develop an elastic that gave the most support and the snuggest fit.

JOHN:
So, it shrinks a little?

JEFF:
John, it shrinks to the size of a postage stamp on contact with human body heat.

JOHN:
Jeff, Jeff, I released a hundred thousand pairs onto the market yesterday.

JEFF:
Oh, my God! My God, John! Those underpants are killing machines!

[Sting of theme music, police sirens wailing.]

LIEUTENANT: (Nick Wilton)
Let me through, let me through. Let me through, damnit.

FRANK: (Nick Maloney)
Lieutenant!

LIEUTENANT:
Is that the body? Oh, my God. What did he die of, Frank?

FRANK:
His pelvic girdle was crushed, his stomach imploded and his rectum was forced up into his lower intestines. And here's a strange thing - he wasn't wearing any underpants.

LIEUTENANT:
Yeah, what's that mean in layman's terms?

FRANK:
He had no browns on.

LIEUTENANT:
No, I meant all that medical stuff before that.

FRANK:
Lieutenant, we're dealing with someone, or something, which can force a man's buttocks together with such force, they change sides.

[Burst of theme music.]

MASSEUR: (Nick Wilton)
Hi, Mike! How was the gym class?

MIKE: (Chris Barrie)
Great! I feel real good about myself. I really do.

MASSEUR:
You want a massage?

MIKE:
No, I feel fine. These new underpants give me a heck of a lot of support, man. They really do.

MASSEUR:
Oh, yeah!

MIKE:
[We hear the sound of underpants shrinking.] Aaargh!

MASSEUR:
What's wrong, Mike?

MIKE:
Oh, my God!

MASSEUR:
What is it?

MIKE:
Get my underpants off!

MASSEUR:
What?

MIKE:
God help me, get them off! They're shrinking!

MASSEUR:
Yeah, I'm trying! I'm trying, man. They're shrinking all the time! They're too tight!

MIKE:
AAAAAAARGH!

MASSEUR:
Oh, my God...

[Burst of theme music.]

LIEUTENANT:
Okay, so we're dealing with killer underpants. Okay, so what?

STEVE: (Chris Barrie)
So what? Who the hell is this guy?

FRANK:
Hey, calm down, Steve.

LIEUTENANT:
I'll tell you who the hell I am - I'm the lieutenant in charge of this investigation. Now, you tell me - who the hell are you?

STEVE:
Who the hell am I? I'm the only one around this goddamn place who knows anything about underpants, and I'm going to save your stupid neck. That's who the hell I am.

LIEUTENANT:
So, how come you know so much about goddamn underpants?

STEVE:
Because, El Schmucko, I studied Underwear and Berkeley for three years. I majored in panties and girdles, and I did my doctorate on underpants and boxers and specialised in thermals. And I'll tell you something, lieutenant. What we're dealing with here, is a perfect piece of lingerie. It doesn't think, it doesn't feel. All it does is hold testicles. And right now, this particular brand is holding them too goddamn tight.

FRANK:
Lieutenant, we've got to go public on this.

LIEUTENANT:
No can do, boys. Tomorow is Labor Day. The mayor's coming. He's going to be travelling through the town on a big goddamn float. How's it going to look? Everywhere he looks, men are pulling down their underpants and trying to kick them off.

[We hear the sounds of a Labor Day parade - big band music, cheering, etc. Then, terrified screams.]

MAYOR: (Nick Maloney)
Aaargh! Oh, my God! Get this underpants off me!

[Burst of theme music]

ANNOUNCER:
Don't miss Attack of the Killer Italian Y-Fronts. You'll never get dressed again.