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Then homeward bound from a Hong Kong mission with one engine out and one faltering, the pilot, Sam Skousen, hit the bailout button so that maybe the plane could clear a mountain range. Email or Username. Marco : I've been playing hockey my whole life, I never fuckin' signed no ones dick man. Share this page:. From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. The Observer. The bouncer Mario Etheridge then pulled out his gun and fired two shots into the air to break the fight up, but instead the shots caused panic.
The last part of your Myspace URL. Ex: myspace. Facebook Twitter Email. Full Name? Most people use their real name. Select Gender? This helps us keep people, musicians and brands searchable on Myspace. Please select Female Male Unspecified. This is your profile URL. Grytpype: But gentlemen of the Athenaeum Club, we shall need funds. FX: Running feet, door slam. Seagoon: The cowards! They've all run away. Grytpype: Yes, good man.
Now Lord Seagoon, I've been told that you have certain monies. Seagoon: Money? Grytype: Empty your pockets. FX: Sound of random dropped objects Grytype: You're right, it is rubbish.
One piece of brown string, eleven pence in notes, Mickey Mouse watch, remains of small boiled chicken, life-size statue of Sabrina and a key. Seagoon: That's the key to my uncle's safe. Grytpype: A safe? Grytpype: Wax impression. Seagoon: Wait, who is this steaming French wreck? Moriarty: Sapristi nyukos! Seagoon: Yes, why? Moriarty: My mother. Better known to you as Montmartes. You insult me, we must fight a duel. Take this pistol. Seagoon: I warn you, I never miss.
Moriarty: Nor I. Now back to back, three paces, and then we fire, monsieur. FX: Three footsteps, gunshot, pause, gunshot, pause, 2 rapid gunshots Seagoon: Shall we reload? Moriarty: Thank you, they wish to know that, no, but I accept your apology. Grytpype: Are you still interested in the Empire, Neddie?
Seagoon: Gad, yes. I'd give anything to see the Union Jack flying over Grosvenor Square. Piloted by an Englishman, of course.
Grytpype: Neddie, let me tell you a tale. In , a Dutchman bought the land on which New York now stands from a Red Indian for a few paltry trinkets. Seagoon: What were they? Grytpype: A piece of brown string, eleven pence in notes, a Mickey Mouse watch, remains of a small boiled chicken -- and a life-size statue of Sabrina. Seagoon: The very things I had in my pocket! Grytpype: Yes, yes, it means, Neddie, that you are a direct descendant of the Red Indian who sold the land. Seagoon: What? You mean, my ancestors owned New York? Grytpype: Yes.
Moriarty: Yes indeed yes! Grytpype: And you know what New York is worth today? Seagoon: Forty thousand million billion dollars. Grytpype: Correct. How did you know? Seagoon: Just a shot in the dark. Moriarty: Forty thousand million billion dollars? That money must be worth a fortune! Seagoon: Well, to think that they sold all that for a piece of brown string, eleven pence in notes, a Mickey Mouse watch, remains of a small boiled chicken -- Grytype: [interrupting] Yes yes yes, Neddie, yes yes, but Seagoon: [overlapping] a life-size Seagoon: No!
Moriarty: Yes, and furthermore Neddie, he died without any heirs. Seagoon: He died bald? Moriarty: Yes, but only from the waist up. Seagoon: Gad! Grytpype: Well said. Seagoon: Yes it was, wasn't it? Grytpype: Neddie, and this is most significant, it has been discovered that the sale of New York was illegal. There, I said it well again. It all means, of course, that New York really belongs to you.
Then I must be a Red Indian! Grytpype: That's it, Neddie.
Full Blooded Goon is on Facebook. Join Facebook to connect with Full Blooded Goon and others you may know. Facebook gives people the power to share and . Full Blooded Goon book. Read reviews from world's largest community for readers. Gully, Gutter, and J.T. have their own swag and agenda.
I'll prove it to you! Put your finger in your cake hole and wobble it about. Seagoon: [Makes Indian war whoop sound] Grytpype: There, you speak the language fluently. Seagoon: Yes, I do. No swearing yet. Seagoon: Now, what next? Grytpype: Well, you must dress like an Indian. Take off those Welsh goatskins and wash the woad off. FX: Things falling onto floor under: Seagoon: Yes, all right! Ha ha! Oh, watch the old tenors -- Oh there it is, the old tenors friend.
Gad, I say, this is fun! There, down to his birthday suit. Moriarty: No man can look like that and live! Grytpype: Right, now stick this feather behind your ear and put on this Indian loin cloth. Seagoon: Aaahaah! C'mon, who's the joker who put a thistle in it? Moriarty: Tell me little Neddie, can you paddle a zinc bathtub? Seagoon: Like a native. Moriarty: Good! You are going to make the cheapest Atlantic crossing to America ever.
Seagoon: Not before I've heard Max Geldray play his leather earache and graphite dogbeard! Moriarty: Well said. Mr Geldray is always well supplied with work by his agents. In fact, his bank balance now stands at four hundred and eighty pounds in bright red letters. Now, we return you to the story 'The Lost Colony'. After a mere thirteen months, I entered the harbour of New York and pulled into the quay. I was given an ovation, I still have it on my mantelpiece to this day. Grytpype: What Neddie didn't know was an American company, the makers of Filth Muck, the detergent with the lead bubbles, had offered a prize of twenty dollars to the first idiot to cross the Atlantic in a zinc bath dressed as a Red Indian.
Seagoon: As I lay in hospital recovering from my trip, the phone rang. But how did you know it was me before I spoke? Seagoon: Well, you're so tall Grytpype: So I am. But you too can be tall, Neddie.
Buy my book, "How to be Three Inches Taller. Grytpype: Stand on it. Seagoon: Never mind those subtle jokes. What about New York, eh? When do I get it? When do I, hey hey hey, my heritage, when do I get it, ha ha ha hmm hmm? Grytpype: Yes, well you see there's been a bit of a broohaha, Neddie. Seagoon: What what what what what what what what? Grytpype: Well, America, it appears, won't give up New York to anybody without a legal tussle. Seagoon: But I haven't got a legal tussle, my folks were poor! Grytpype: Never mind, Neddie, the woods are full of them.
But first, I must get you an astute lawyer. Anyway, meantime you must disguise yourself as a beaver, swim cautiously up the Hudson, at all times keeping in touch by telephone. Seagoon: Right! By dawn of the needle nardle noo, I had reached the Indian reservation of Standingroomonly!
Bloodnok: Aieargh ai-oh-ergh. Minnie haha. Little bull, big bull. Hiawatha and other Indian layabouts. Bloodnok: What? Yes, yes.
Seagoon: Are you really a Red Indian? Bloodnok: Yes I -- yes, I am, yes.
Seagoon: Then why does the red keep coming off your skin? Bloodnok: I'm anaemic, that's why. Aieargh Woai-oh-woergh. Now Grytpype tells me you want an Indian birth certificate. Seagoon: I do I do. Mommy whipped up a pussy pot pie, huh? Evgeni : Let's see what's going on over there. Oleg : Show us your dick. Doug Glatt : I don't want you to see my dick.
Oleg : Why you being gay? Marco : I think you're fuckin', being Oleg : It's not gay. Evgeni : Not if you're brothers. Marco : If you're brothers it's gay with a fuckin' dash of something else. Doug Glatt : My brother's gay and he doesn't even do that. Marco : I've been playing hockey my whole life, I never fuckin' signed no ones dick man. John Stevenson : I'll sign your dick Doug. Marco : Am I the only one here, you Slavic fucking borscht-blooded, cabbage-headed motherfuckers?