MONTY PYTHON'S NEW WORLD RECORD. Hundreds of unemployed tourists and New Yorkers congregated in Shubert Alley this afternoon and stunned the world by keeping their pants on, raising their coconuts in the air, and clip-clopping along to a recording of "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" from Spamalot. I know...because I was there! And now...you are there too!

You have arrived at Shubert Alley. You believe it to be either half full or half empty--it is hard to tell from where you are standing. Suddenly the Spamalot audience spills or pours out of the theater--it is hard to tell from where you are standing. The alley is now full of people.

You have always been too cheap to buy your own souvenir coconuts, so you grab the coconuts of a complete stranger. The coconuts are wrapped in cellophane. It is clear that they are collectors' items. Within seconds you devalue them by tearing open the wrappers. Ignoring the shriek of pain emanating from eBay, you inspect the coconut shells. You cup them in your hands. They feel good. Really good. You believe they are a Size C. You wonder how they will look on you later.




You are stirred out of your revery by the voice of your leader, a cheerful man in blue. He impels you to hold the coconut shells over your head, where the sound is louder and the photo op much better for the many reporters and photobloggers who have infiltrated the crowd. You wonder if the leader's cheerfulness is merely a mask covering years of deep-seated childhood pain.




















The leader is not satisfied. The leader is never satisfied. He hectors you until you raise your coconuts higher. It is futile to resist. You remember being mugged. You remember being frisked by a cop. You remember your grade school gym teacher. You raise your coconuts higher...and still higher!




















Lots of people in the crowd claim to have seen Spamalot once. Some indicate that they have seen Spamalot not once, but twice. The question of whether anyone has seen Spamalot three or more times is not raised. Some people claim that they have never seen Spamalot. You are not sure what happens to those people, but you never see them again.

You think it's a shame that more hardcore Pythonites aren't there. You think it's a shame that more hardcore porn stars aren't there. When spam is mentioned, only some of you chant "spam spam spam spam." You think that, if more people were to chant "spam spam spam spam" when spam is mentioned, it would be pretty funny to hear everyone chanting "spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam." You think everybody would chant "spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam spam." You wonder if the people around you will start taking their pants off.

When you receive the order to replace the whistling in "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" with coconut sounds, you get it perfectly right the first time and thus spare the lives of the quintuplets who are tied to stakes outside Mamma Mia! Unfortunately, they will remain on the stakes for the duration of that show's run. A collective groan wells out of the crowd when the leader declares that your performance will have to last a full three minutes, but when you realize that performing for a full three minutes is much easier than performing for a full twenty minutes, you pull yourself together, think about football, and do your best to please your leader. Eventually a judge announces that you have set some sort of record by being among a group of 1199 people who gathered in an alley and played with their coconuts for a full three minutes while keeping their pants on. The judge makes it official by producing a framed certificate right there on the spot. There is much rejoicing. And some posing for the press.

Finally you leave because the alley is cold and your coconuts are freezing. You look forward to warming up and modeling them in a more private and comfortable setting.

Photos: David Marc Fischer