Posted by: toddzilla | August 9, 2007

Master-T’s Theatre Presents: Monsieur “Pop” Corn

The lovely and talented Cheryl is pregnant and her hormones have enslaved her appetites towards curious things, such as boiled corn on the cob.  These dark lusts have led her to thoughts that she cannot easily control, but can she hold out against the constant, persistent onslaught of our antagonist, Monsieur Corn?  Let us join in as our French deviant attempts once again to woo the beautiful Cheryl in her sleep and in her hormonal time of weakness…

 Monsieur Corn:  Aaaaah, look at my leetle angel.  All asleep in her loveliness.  Sleep well my peedgeon, for you see, I have done my research.  I have leestened well and I know what my leetle turtale dove likes!  She likes zee fi-airman, no?  So I dress like zee fi-airman for you!


How’s that my lovely?  Do you like my leetle boots?  How about my strong fi-air axe?  It is pow-airful no?  It lets me get in when I must, how you say, put aside zee politeness?  It is like now, how you put up your feigned deefenses against mon amour…well my leetle hard-to-get player person I am haveeng my axe now for to getteeng in your door no?  Le feu!  Le feu!  Oui!  Le feu in your heart!  Le feu pour Monsieur Corn!

(more corn after the jump!)

[Todd is roused by the loud french and rolls over, Monsieur Corn ducks quickly beneath the sheets…then slowly arises]

Monsieur Corn:  Bah!  Zee peeg American rolls…like zee peeg he is!  here is my veesion of beauty and she is l’forced to be with this heeck.  There he lays pro-bab-ly dreameeng about his American fooh-ball where they do not use zee feet hardly at all!  Bah!  Disgusteeng! 

Are you to likeeng my leetle hat mon ami?  It is for to protect my head from zee emb-airsL’Emb-airs of my burneeng desi-air pour vous.  MMM  That ees so right my lovely leetle spark!  You have climbed zee ladd-air of mon amour and it drops zee hot emb-airs onto my head.  Thank zee goodness for le chapeau!  See it has zee numb-air “un” on it because you are “un” in my heart no?  Oui.  Un, deux, et trois!  You are zee feu dans mon coeur…oh pardonnez moi l’expression…I forget and my passion carries me into zee language of love…You, my leetle hydrant, are zee fire in my heart.  You were a leetle spark once, no?  But now, you are zee roaring flame!  Le feu!  Le feu indeed!  I am comeeng lov-air!  I am climbeeng mon ladd-air to your heart!  I am for to putteeng out your flame, no?  You are to be loveeng me mon amour?  You do not realize it yet peedgeon, but you are to loveeng me even though you are bound by the redneckery that is zee slime laying beside you!  That heeck peeg, Toddzeella!  PEW!  I spit upon his common facade!  I fart in his direction!  I am to be pushing zee gas from my derriere upon his visage of peeginess!  Take a wheef you American swine of what Monsieur Corn had for dinn-air!  Do you smell that you peeg?  That is my defiance!  I am for to takeeng your wife from you and you must smell zee remains of her indiscretion!  What she thought was her love for this American, how you say, schmuck, was but gas!  A fart of a youthful meestake.  But zee corn?  It will last forev-air!  Come to my love leetle fi-air eengine!  Come and be with Monsieur Corn!  I have brought my axe, no?  I have my boots on pour vous, oui?  Mon chapeau also!  I see zee American is awakening, no doubt thinking of American hot dogs and baseball…pew!  I must bid you adieu mon ami.  Theenk of me dear…theenk of my burneeng desi-air pour vous.

Keeses mon ami.  Keeses and zee, how you say, hugs, no?  Oui, keesses and zee hugs!



  1. There are hardly words to describe the experience of you creating an imaginary tempter for your wife, having him be an ear of corn, and then smack talking yourself in his strange French corn accent. (Do they even grow corn in France?) You are truly a prophet.

  2. I had a French citizen tell me that they don’t eat corn in France because it was for pigs to eat. I informed that this was probably because they didn’t know how to grow good corn in France. I’m not talking about that crappy Iowan or Minnesotan corn…I’m talkin’ good corn! Yah feel me?

  3. I’m not worthy. I’m not worthy. I’m not worthy.

  4. You deserve syndication in national newspapers.

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