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(SCENE: A small customs office at the Virgo-Libra border. Outside, on the Virgo side of the border, a small crowd is gathered, cheering and waving banners that say things like "Good Riddance!" and "See you in 28 Years!" On the Libra side of the border, a few somberly-dressed tour guides quietly await their new client. Inside the Custom's Office, SATURN sits patiently in his long black robe at a desk while a LIBRA security guard examines SATURN'S papers.)
LIBRA: Business, or pleasure?
SATURN: Pleasure.
(pauses) Just kidding.
LIBRA: Okay, everything looks in order here. You have baggage?
SATURN: (
Lifts an improbably large suitcase) Just this one bag.
LIBRA: All right. The dogs didn't smell any controlled substances
(raises his rubber stamp above SATURN'S passport) so you're all clear to --
(Suddenly, the door behind the guard bursts open, and MEL GIBSON bursts into the room)
MEL GIBSON:
(Shouting) Stop that motherBLEEPing planet!!
(His speech throughout is interrupted by a "bleeping" sound that seems to appear out of nowhere)
LIBRA:
(Startled) What are you doing here? You aren't even a Libra!
MEL GIBSON: This BLEEPer has been BLEEPing with me for too BLEEPing long!
(MEL GIBSON pulls a semiautomatic pistol out of his jacket and unloads the entire clip into SATURN'S chest. LIBRA ducks under the table.) Die you BLEEPing piece of BLEEP!
SATURN:
(Completely unimpressed) Yeah, like
that was going to do you any good.
MEL GIBSON: BLEEP! BLEEP! I hate you motherBLEEPer! I don't deserve the BLEEP you've BLEEPing given me! My Moon is at zero BLEEPing degrees Libra and it's ruining my BLEEPing personal and professional life!
SATURN:
(Calmly explaining to LIBRA, who is still under the table) Mr. Gibson is clearly displeased with the nature of my work. You see, it's my job to --
MEL GIBSON: It should be your job to shut the BLEEP up and go BLEEP yourself! I hate you! You hear me? You do NOTHING for me!
SATURN: Actually, in the long run, I do plenty for you. You see, as a person goes through their life they do various things that could be considered "right" or "wrong," both in a practical and a larger, spiritual sense. I'm just here to provide --
(Several security guards enter the room and drag MEL GIBSON away)
MEL GIBSON: I hope you get gangBLEEPed by a bunch of BLEEPs until your BLEEP falls off, you BLEEPing --
(the guards drag MEL away and the door closes.)
LIBRA:
(After a long pause) So, um... what's in the suitcase?
SATURN:
(Patting the suitcase affectionately) Karma. Lots and lots of Karma.