Robin Williams
Nicky Lenin
Look at that. He makes an announcement over that in about five seconds. May I have your attention for an announcement please? Tonight, the part of Robin Williams will be played by Don Ho. Ladies and gentlemen, would you please welcome Mr. Robin Williams?

Thank you, thank you. Thank you. I wish to begin by showing you something that I am very proud of. I know, I'll have to ask these people to move back though. Yuh, disarming. (gibberish) Obviously, you are on drugs. (as drug addict) "It's okay. Don't be afrai…"

(normal) I would like to begin by doing some basic Soviet suppressions for you. My first suppression is Karl Marx. And for thosе of you on drugs: (as drug addict) "Karl Marx." Karl Marx, take one.

(as Karl Marx) "Imperialism is thе worst thing I've ever heard. Schweigt."

(normal) A-and now a native New York impression and New York Echo.

(as native New Yorker) Hello!

(as New York echo) Shut the fuck up!

(normal) Thank you. A cheap shot. Thank you. If you ever go to Soviet Union now, this is something else for you. Um, this is impression of interview with Nadia Komenich. Komenich. Once again, for those of you on the quaaludes: (drug addict gibberish)

You're late. Let me show you what you missed. I did a quick thing. Okay, now I did this with the few minutes. Came out on stage. With this, people went like this. Okay, thank you. Right on. Yes, I'll have to show you something special. Move back. They were kicking over there. Get over there, mister. Then we did a thing over there. We talked this over there. We talked back. Then we did a quick thing. Oh, we did so another submission—Karl Marx. (as Karl Marx) "Worst thing I ever heard" (normal) Wow, déjà vu. Okay. Thank you.

I wish to do for you now. This is third suppression. This is interview with Nadia Komenich. (as drug addict) Komenich (gibberish)

(as interviewer) Nadia, how does it feel to be the finest female gymnast ever compete in the 1976 Olympics?

(as translater) (gibberish) …1976 Olympic… (continued gibberish)

(as Nadia Komenich) (high-pitched gibberish)
(as translater) (gibberish) She said she enjoyed it very much, but she did not go through puberty.

(normal) Wait, don't give up. It gets better.

(as interviewer) Nadia, you think you'll compete in the 1980 Olympics?

(as translater) (gibberish) …1980 Olympic… (continued gibberish)

(as Nadia Komenich) (high-pitched gibberish)

(as translater) (angry gibberish) …American television… (continued angry gibberish)

(as Nadia Komenich) (high-pitched gibberish and a landed blow)

(as translater) She says yes. 5.0, 5.0—who cares?

(normal) Like to do for you some Soviet ventriloquism. Here it is for you.

"Nikki, how do you like being in America?"

(Nikki is gagged, keeping her from answering)

Shit… Social relevance, right arm.

It's nice that you laugh. In Soviet Union, people don't laugh. They just go, (claps twice) "Funny."
I have, uh, one last suppression for you now. This is, um, interpretive dance for you.

Ope, some more smoke. I want to die.

Are you ready now? Can you see in the shitty seats over there?! Okay, we'll get back. Okay over here, yes? "Give us Barabbas!" Oh, look, they've elected a new Pope. Okay. Right now, he's in the Vatican on eastern, ready, preparing for the day, going, "(gibberish) Play ball!"

(normal) And now a quick interpretive dance for the ladies in the audience. This is the famous "Death of a Sperm" ballet.

*piano ballet music begins*

You're laughing at nothing now. Wait, you must use— Wait for it. The sperm— Oh, sorry. Bad view. I don't mean to moon you.

The sperm prepares. He swims upstream. It's the heart's struggle. Suddenly, he meets the diaphragm. The ovum sits on the other side. (blows raspberry) The sperm tries! Tries! And in the style of Martha Graham, really tries. And dies.

(thanks in gibberish)

*piano ballet music ends*

Hello. Whenever I blow a dollar in a bottle of water, I have Perrier. Ah, look, the stronger stuff. Let's see what the house wine is. Thunderbird. Ah, but it's a good week, though.

Hello. Go Vidal for Thunderbird Wine, take two.

Hello. Go a Thunderbird for Vidal Wine.

Take 3.
(laughs drunkenly)

Before we go on, a—a brief joke for any psychics in the audience. (brief pause) We know who we are, don't we? Look, the fog's coming in now. (whistles) No one's seen that movie. Good. Roll set.

Time for some culture now. Some poetry to enlighten your—your brief day. Here it is, my first poem:

"Red sand between my toes
Summer vacation
In outer space"

That was a Martian haiku. Now a simpler poem—a poem written on acid, entitled (gibberish):

(continued gibberish)

Those of you understood it went, "Wow! Reality… what a concept." Now a poem for those of you who've taken Evan Wood speed-reading:

(beep)

Thank you. Who knew?