A freshly sharpened pencil. Your favorite

A freshly sharpened pencil. Your favorite song. Cool water on a hot day. Hot water on a cool day. A good joke. The second beer. Requited love. Wildflowers. Snow on Christmas Day.

Farts in a closed elevator. Stomach cramps in a crowded theatre. Being interviewed by a person with bad breath. A butt itch during church. Ah, these are life's watershed moments.

When the bear farts, when the car stalls, when I am feeling down. I just think of my most annoying things, and then I don't feel so ... brown? Who wrote this script anyway!?

The Sound of Spew-Sick cast struggled to connect with the dialog. The show was meant to open in two days and so far nobody knew if

Truffaut could be resurrected in time. "What about Godard?" the producer squealed in panic. The casting director shook her head. "We seanced him. He's pissed we ask Truffaut first,

so we closed the Hell's gate on his foot." The casting director munched his Funyuns which he swallowed with Royal Crown cola, of course. This was going to be the worst production

Ever of the "Rebranded Rebellion" because the actors didn't know method acting. There was no time to teach them. Sir John Redmond decided to improvise and tweak the script. They

the man, knew all his lines, but as the script changes had called for him to play Tiresias during his female phase, Sir Redmond was highly distracted by the dress and wig he had to

snatch from the orchestra. The music swelled, the dancers lept, the curtain fell, the actors cried.