Rubber Chicken Scratchings: Uff-da! It’s a Rubber Chicken sketch, live in da Budgeteer!

[A Minnesota couple enters, finishing up an argument.]

LENA: Well, I don’t care what ya say, it sure looks like Hell ta me….

OLE: I guess so. I dunno what we done ta deserve ta end up here, tho.

[Satan enters. He wears a black beret and speaks with an obnoxious French accent.]

SATAN: [Chuckling] Ah, new recruits! Bonjour, mes amis. Hot enough for you?

OLE: [Smiles] Yah sure, we like it fine!

LENA: We keep movin’ around, we’ll warm up in no time.

SATAN: [Incredulous] Warm up? How can you not be warm? It’s hot as Hell down here!

OLE: Well, we’re from Duluth, Minnesota, don’t ya know? Da land of da ice and da snow.

LENA: Yah, we’re just happy for da chance ta thaw out.

SATAN: Happy? We don’t want you happy, Mr. and Mrs. Damned-For-All-Eternity! I’m not running a spa down here! [Stops and thinks] Hmmmm, perhaps I need to crank up the thermostat a few more notches. [Smiles at them in an evil manner] Don’t go away.... [He exits, chuckling]

OLE: Where we gonna go?

LENA: I dunno. Keewatin?

[We hear the sound of Satan snickering while he cranks up the thermostat, followed by a blast furnace kicking in. Ole and Lena smile and make happy noises as Satan enters.]

SATAN: Alright, let’s try this again. [Clears throat, smiles and resumes] Ah, new recruits! Bonjour, mes amis! Hot enough for you?

LENA: Sooper-de-dooper!

OLE: Yah, I can almost feel my toes!

SATAN: [Shocked] No way!

OLE AND LENA: Way.

SATAN: Why have the two of you not stripped down to your bare nakedness and began to wail and gnash your teeth! It is now officially hotter than Hell!

OLE: [Shuffles over next to Satan] Perhaps ya missed da part where I said we’re from Duluth, Minnesota? [Giggles]

SATAN: Oh, very good. Get sarcastic with the devil. Very smart! I see I have no choice but to crank up the thermostat a few more notches. Don’t go away! [He exits, now very angry and talking to himself]

OLE: I don’t know where he keeps tinkin’ we’re gonna go.

LENA: Proctor, maybe?

[We hear Satan offstage, still muttering, followed by the sounds of the thermostat being cranked up more notches. There is a pause. Satan says “Ah, what the hell…” And cranks it up all the way. Blast furnace kicks in. Ole and Lena smile and get happier.]

LENA: Ooh, I might have ta unzip da parka a bit more, hey.

OLE: Ooh, dat’s more den I’ve seen in years. Now I am gettin’ kinda hot.

[Satan enters, very agitated and rushed.]

SATAN: All right, all right, let’s try this one more time. Ah, new recruits. Bonjour, mes amis. Hot. Enough. For. You? [Stares at them]

OLE: Not bad. Almost warm enough for a fish fry.

LENA: Yeah, ya got any walleye in dat dare lake of fire?

OLE: [In a trance] Walleye…. Walleye....

SATAN: [Pauses, then explodes] Are you insane? We have now reached the temperature where paper bursts into flame!

OLE: Oh, I read about dat. It’s da Fahrenheit 451!

LENA: Yah, but with da wind chill, it’s only 450.

SATAN: Shut up! Shut up, both of you! You have lived your lives so cold up there in Duluth, Minnesota, that the flames of Hell hold no terror for you! I am forced to try a different tack. Very well — I’m going to blow out the pilot light in Hell. And I’m not happy about it…. [He exits, very angry and humiliated]

OLE: He didn’t tell us ta stay here, hey.

LENA: Maybe we can go?

[We hear the rusty sound of the furnace door opening and the pilot light getting blown out. There is a pause, then a windy blizzard suddenly begins. The couple gets very happy and starts singing and dancing a polka. Satan enters and is shocked by what he sees.]

SATAN: Stop it! Stop dancing! I know that the polka is the official dance of Hell, but stop it! [They stop] What gives with you people? I turn up the heat, you’re happy! I blow out the pilot light in Hell and you’re still happy? What gives?

OLE: Well, don’t ya know, if Hell froze over....

LENA: Dat must mean....

OLE AND LENA: Da Vikings won da Super Bowl!