Thursday, April 30, 2009
Midweek Mad Geniuses: Mozart and Beethoven
"I went to see my doctor the other day," said Beethoven, chalking up his cue. "He reckons I've been consuming too much lead."
"Too much lead! How much is too much, Ludwig?" asked Mozart, racking up the balls with his trademark pomposity. "I never thought lead was a problem."
"Neither did I. It's great for roofing. Anyway, he reckons the best remedy is to treat it with more lead."
"With more lead? How is that a remedy?"
"What was that?"
"I SAID 'HOW IS THAT A REMEDY'?"
"Oh. That's what I said. He assured me it would work though. He reckons it's like 'an eye for an eye'."
"Well I never. Although now that I think about it, my guy treated my mercury poisoning with lead-laced wine. And he's the best."
"How did you get the mercury poisoning?"
"He was treating my rheumatic fever with mercury-laced beer."
"Good thinking," said Beethoven as a guy in a white wig and make-up approached the table, thinking he could get in ahead of the composers while they were conversing. "JESUS CHRIST, WHAT DOES THIS CUNT THINK HE'S DOING? PUT YOUR NAME ON THE BLACKBOARD ARSEHOLE, LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. JESUS."
"Better do it, buddy," advised Mozart. "Beethoven'll open up your skull like a peanut."
The guy shuffled off.
"Fuck me," said Beethoven, shaking his head. "Whose break is it?"
"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME, YOU FUCKEN MUPPET?"
"I SAID 'MUGS AWAY'."
"Oh yeah, right. Sorry Wolf. It's like there are mozzies in my ears."
Beethoven made a solid break and potted three balls before missing a tricky double.
"Nice try," said Mozart.
"I SAID 'NICE TRY'."
"Oh. Anyway, I've also been immersing my head in freezing water."
"Keeps me awake."
"Well it would! I had my doctor bleed me for that."
"Bleed you? What does that do?"
"Gets rid of the blood."
"But you need blood."
"That's what I said! He said it gets rid of the bad blood."
"How does he distinguish it from the good blood?"
"Fucked if I know."
"Fucken quacks, eh?"
"Yep," said Mozart, lining up a long shot. "Hey, how's your syphilis?"
"Oh. It's ok. Apparently it makes you a little mad. Believe that?"
"I'd be mad too if my cock looked like yours."
"THE FUCK DID YOU SAY?"
"Nothing. Anyway, my guy reckons I have military fever."
"Jesus. What's that? A severe compulsion to join the army?"
"No, dickhead. It's a scabby red rash!"
"I'M A FUCKEN WHAT, YOU SKINNY LITTLE CUNT?"
"I SAID IT'S A RED RASH!"
"Ooh, that's nasty. Better get that looked at."
"Seriously, you should. Now, what am I on? Bigs or smalls?"