THE HAIRDRESSER SONG
                        a parody by Garrett Gilchrist

I, being me, penned this parody, which is mine, of the Pythons' own
Lumberjack Song to kick off this little Looney Bin thingy. So here goes
with parody the first by Garrett Gilchrist, my parody, and the parody which
is mine. No one else's parody is it, for it is my parody, the parody of the
one who is me, the parody which is... (He is suddenly struck by a 16-ton
weight)

                                 THE CAST:
                         LUMBERJACK: Michael Palin
                      VOICE FROM BACK: Graham Chapman
                            HIS BUDDY: Eric Idle
   NIGHTCLUBBERS: The Pythons, Neil Innes, and the Fred Tomlinson Singers

(A sylven glen. Idealized Canadian forest-type scene. A lumberjack, in full
gear with boots, cap, and a tartan shirt, swings an axe and chops at a
large tree. But the axe hits wrong, and with a dull "clang" it slips from
his fingers and he whines in an unheroic voice. Sucking his wounds he
notices the small crowd looking at him.)

Lumberjack: Don't blame me! I was never cut out for this outdoor life.

Voice from Back: What do you mean?

Lumberjack: Well, I didn't want to be a lumberjack anyway. I wanted to
be... a BARBER!

(A visonary glow suffuses his face and he begins to walk slowly out of the
darkened forest. With each breath his voice becomes more high-pitched and
campy.)

Snipping carefully at each shining strand to shape them into a thing of
beauty... The straight-back! The crew! The coiff! The mighty pompadour!

(He tears off his lumberjack's cap and shirt to reveal a teal barber's coat
and well-groomed hairdo underneath. The singing of a choir begins to rise
up in the background...)

Chatting away nineteen to the dozen with mincing, effeminate queens named
Ricky and Edouard! Gossiping about other people's private lives! Making
teenagers just the slightest bit uneasy!

(He darts out of the forest and in the next shot he is revealed in all his
hairstyling glory, in what appears to be a nightclub with disco lights and
odd decorations resembling hairstyling equipment.)

The smell of fresh-cut follicles! The hum of the razor! The feel of shampoo
against the fingers!

(As he strides through, doing a bit of dancing, he takes the hand of a
rather effeminate-looking little man, dressed in a masquerade outfit. He
clings to our hairdresser's side and looks adoringly into his eyes. The
choir is loud now and there is music as well.)

With my best buddy by my side, we'd sing, SING...

(A fanfare is struck and he launches into song.)

Oh, I'm a hairdresser, and I'm all right!
I snip all day and I'll dance all night!

(Show a small chorus of nightclubbers in sequin-y masquerade costumes with
feathers, some in outrageous drag.)

Nightclubbers: Oh, he's a hairdresser, and he's all right!
He snips all day and he'll dance all night!

Hairdresser: I cut folks' hair, I chat and laugh
With guys named Gei and Jyon.
On fridays I hit the nightclubs
And party 'til the dawn.

Nightclubbers: He cuts folks' hair, he chats and laughs
With guys named Gei and Jyon.
On fridays he hits the nightclubs
And parties 'til the dawn.

All: He's a hairdresser, and he's all right!
He snips all day and he'll dance all night!

Hairdresser: I cut folks' hair, I eat fried clams,
I touch up clasic cars.
I watch Sean Connery movies
And pick up chicks in bars.

Nightclubbers: He cuts folks' hair, he eats fried clams,
He touches up classic cars.
He watches Sean Connery movies
And picks up chicks in bars?!

(A brief, confused pause.)

All: ...He's a hairdresser, and he's all right!
He snips all day and he'll dance all night!

Hairdresser: I cut folks' hair, I mow the lawn,
I lust for Raquel Welch.
I drink while watching football,
And pause only to belch.

Nightclubbers: He cuts folks' hair, he mows... the lawn?
He lusts for... Raquel Welch?!

(The music and disco lights cut off as the crowd stops singing and begins
instead to yell at the hairdresser.)

Watches football?!

...Hetero! Bloody hetero!

F*cking royal king of barbers, he is...

One Clubber: And to think I gave him my copy of "Funny Girl!"

(The hairdresser assumes a majestic pose but it is of little use. He looks
worriedly back and forth.)

His Guy: Oh, Bevis! And I thought you were just a bit... RUGGED!!

(He runs off crying, and the crowd begins to pelt the hairdresser with
tomatoes, booing. He wipes them off his face as best he can, but they keep
coming. Eventually he shuffles dejectedly out of the scene.)

(Longish pause. The Nightclubbers, still in group formation, shake their
heads. Then one of them looks up at the camera and points.)

Nightclubbers: (suddenly) He's a hairdresser, and he's all right!
He snips all day and he'll dance all night!
He's a hairdresser and he's all riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight...

(This last note they hold for over half a minute)

Snips all day and he'll dance all night!

          Dear Sir,

     I wish to complain on the strongest possible terms about the
     previous entry in this webpage about the hairdresser who is not a
     homosexual. Many of my best friends are hairdressers, and all of
     them are perfect mincing little poofs. In the future I would
     request that all heterosexual hairdressers be referred to on your
     pages as "barbers" with all the proper disclaimers, lest there be
     any confusion.

          Yours faithfully,
          Brigadier Cristan Philips Strong (Mr.)