Scooby sings with HeliumHead the Receptionist.

June 30, 2004
Filed under:"H" for "Toy"

I’ve discovered, while driving and singing to the inane shit on the radio, that any song, commercial jingle, country music, or otherwise, sounds insanely funny when sung in a Scooby Doo voice.

Try it. Squealy and a little throaty with some goofiness thrown in. Oh, and substitute every first letter of every syllable with “r.”

“Ro it’s rue, re are rirune… Runday, Ruddy, Rundaaaaaaayyy…” (U2)

“Rye rawnt rye raby rack raby rack raby rack raby rack, Rye rahnt rye raby rack raby rack raby rack… Rilli’s raby rack ribs…” (Chili’s commercial)

“Raint re a Rirmingram, rake rit rook rust rike Rye reeeeel…” (Some country shit, I forget who)

I was practicing this while driving home in the rain. I hate thunder and lightning, but love rain, so I had my windows down. There are those crowded intersections where you are right next to vehicles heading the other direction and this woman in an old Chrysler had her window down too.

I was singing at the top of my lungs, mostly because I was cracking myself up, and, after a quick glance, thought that I may possibly be entertaining her as well.

When I finished with a particularly difficult verse of a Beastie Boys tune (”Rass Runkey, rat runky runky”), I did the Scooby laugh (”Eee-heeEEEheeeheehee”), gave her an appealing look, obviously looking for praise and adulation (eyebrows moving up and down independently, a la Jim Carrey).

Her mouth opened, as if to say something, then closed. She frowned, snapped her head straight ahead, and actually squealed her tires as she rocketed forward over the 18 foot gap between her and the car in front of her. In my side mirror I actually saw her rolling up her window too, as if to avoid further possibilities of being assaulted auditorily by Shaggy or Velma.

Everybody’s a critic.

Hell, I didn’t even bust out the “Goofy” version of the Staind song that was on.

On the way to my hockey game last night, I found out that the aerodynamics of my truck are such that, when flicking cigarette ash out the window directly behind the side mirror, it blows said ash in an arc, first out the window, then back in. Directly into my ear.

The fact that the still-lit cigarette in my hand singed a bit of my already-short hair while I picked the ash out didn’t stop me from testing this “aerodynamic-ash-ear” theory numerous times during the trip. It went 6 for 7. Perfectly. Into my ear.

The “I-may-possibly-be-the-biggest-dipshit-I-know” theory is still a work in progress, but valuable, VALUABLE data is still being processed.

All of the people at work are being a big, bunch of fuckers.

Why?

�Cause they’re making me WORK. Fuuuuaaaaacccckkkk.

Don’t these shitwags know that I got a diary to keep up?

The nice part is, I’m fast like our receptionist going after the last doughnut.

Speaking of that flaxen-haired, helium-headed beauty…

I was asked to do some graphic work for our site redesign and present it to the execs and some board members. Being that I’m just a code-monkey, this is a real banan… uh… honor.

They didn’t want to bore me with the whole meeting, so they said they’d just call me in for the last 15 minutes or so.

I wait, with stuffy-boardroom-anxiety for the phone to ring.

Bllllurrrrrp

Me: “Yallow.”

HeliumHead: “Mmmph… arhgkle… umph…”

Me: “‘Allo, �allo, ahr yew theah?”

HeliumHead: “ARglkle, urmph, shiz secomb… (silence) smack, smack… SORRY, they’re ready for you now.”

Me: “Were you eating or some shit?”

HeliumHead: “Yeah, sorry, I just took a bite when I was dialing you… don’t know why I did that.”

Me: “Strange, neither do I. Maybe I make you hungry”

*click*

A few days later, my buddy Dozer, who occasionally works in the same building, comes by to go out for lunch.

He comes in and she’s on the phone. Despite the fact that he’s a snappy dresser and quite tightass-all-business looking, he gets ignored in favor of the telephone.

HeliumHead: “…I know… I tried to tell her, but she was so wasted she wouldn’t listen… totally…”

Dozer: *Ahem*

HeliumHead: “…Um… I’ll have call you back…” (hangs up pissily) Yeah?

(I’ve actually heard of receptionists that use such clever phrases as “Can I help you?”, “what can I do for you?” and “Wow, you’re devastatingly handsome, how �bout a blowjob?” but those must be rare.)

Dozer: I’m here to see your CFO about your taxes.

HeliumHead (with eyes like dinner plates): Oh!

Dozer: I’m kidding, is JuddHole here? I’m his friend, Dozer, and I’m here to meet him for lunch.

HeliumHead (forcing smile): Oh, hang on.

Bllllurrrrrp

Me: “Yallow!”

HeliumHead: “There’s someone here to see you.”

Me: “Cool, on my way.”

*click*

HeliumHead: He didn’t ask who you were, so I didn’t tell him.

Dozer: Sure, sure. �Cause that just makes sense.

HeliumHead (back on phone): “…Hey, it’s me, I’m back… yeah, I know… yeah… well, she’s like… an alky or something, I KNNNOOOWWW…”

Earlier today, she comes by my cube. I know, I know, you’re thinking, “what could possibly tear her away from her diligence at the front desk?”

HeliumHead: So, um, your friend that came by the other day?

Me: Oh, Dozer? Yeah, what about him?

(expecting a possible gaseous-cranium-bitch-session here)

HeliumHead: So… um… is he, like, single?

Me (stifling a giggle): HA! I mean, um, yeah, kind of.

HeliumHead: Whaddya mean, �kind of?’ Like, he’s seeing someone or what?

Me: Well, his sentencing just came down and, even though it’s just a few short months in County, I’m betting he’s going to find a �special’ someone right away. *wink*

HeliumHead: What? What �county?’ What are you talking about?

Oh Jesus. *Exasperated sigh*

Me: Yeah, he’s got a girlfriend.

HeliumHead: Oh. (walks away)

Aside from actually working and torturing the empty-headed imbecile up front, things have been slow.

Things should pick up though, Dozer’s girlfriend works in the building full-time and I’m going to have her come up to HeliumHead’s desk and speak nothing but German while gesticulating angrily and wildly.

I plan on coming in during her tirade and shouting at her in nonsensical Mandarin Chinese (I watched “Crouching Tiger” 3 times, I can do it) and then I’ll twist her arm behind her back and shove her into the elevator.

I just heard HeliumHead’s name over the intercom for the third time in the last half hour.

PSSHSHKKSH, “HeliumHead, you have a call on line 2.”

PSSHSHKKSH, “HeliumHead, please find CEO-Guy when you have a minute.”

PSSHSHKKSH, “HeliumHead, Custom Balloon Service is here for your bi-weekly cranial fillup and pressure check”

I’m going to go back to plotting her termina… uh… WORKing now.