Alex:  Timothy “The Barking Hedgehog” Russell
Evil Nazi Breakfast Cereal Commercial Announcer:  Gardner “Terminator” Key
Sybil:  Chris “Not a Chem Major” Farrell
Virgil:  "Teg" Binky Smith
Syllabus, the Three-headed Hamster:  Gard, Chris, Binky
Trent the Fairy Man:  Deus et Dominus DeVore
Satan:  Scottroydixon

(Music:  U2 instrumental piece of same name as this rather pointless sketch)

Alex:  (nerdy voice)  Hi!  I’m Alex!  My adventures are many and my charms are few.  I remember one day I awoke early and felt really hungry so I went downstairs to get a bowl of cereal.  I looked in the cupboard but all I could find was a single box of Opress-O’s.  I went to my friend the refrigerator for some milk, but my refrigerator had just used the last gallon for cleaning some old records.  What to do, what to do.  All the stores were closed in a 20-mile radius due to the recent limited nuclear exchange with Texas, so I decided that the best thing to do would be to descend into the Underworld.  I knew that in Hell they always kept some extra milk, but I wasn’t sure how to get there.  I went to visit my friend Sybil.  She was a fortune teller.  (Pause)  Wait...there’s a commercial.

(Music:  South African protest song cut off by gunfire)

Evil Nazi Breakfast Cereal Commercial Announcer:  Hello!  Some mornings I wake up hungry for the breakfast cereal that expresses my lifestyle—Oppress-O’s!  New from Kellogg’s, it’s the cereal that’s light on top and dark on the bottom!  Sure, it leaves a bad taste in your mouth, but it turns the milk...even whiter!  Oppress-O’s! Available at a student dining hall near you.  And now back to our pointless sketch already pointlessly in transgress.

Sybil:  You gave me hyacinths first a year ago!  They called me the hyacinth girl!

Alex:  Oh, hi Sybil.

Sybil:  Greetings, O Trojan son of Anchises!

Alex:  No, it’s me, Alex.

Sybil:  I’m sorry, Alex.  What can I do for you?

Alex:  I’m all out of milk.  I need to get to Hell.

Sibyl:  “...Facilis descensus Averno, / Noctes atque dies patet atri ianua Ditis; / sed revocare gradum superasque evadere ad auras, hoc opus, hic labor est.”

Alex:  Why are you speaking in Latin hexameters?

Sibyl:  Must be something in the air.  I said, “the descent to Avernus is easy, for night and day the doors of dark Dis stand open, but to retrace your steps to the upper air, that is the task, that is the labor.”

Alex:  I still don’t understand you.

Sibyl:  Let me put it this way.  Hell is like the Hotel California...no, better yet, Hell is like a roach motel.  You can check in, but...

Alex:  I’ll be careful!

Sibyl:  You’ll be dead!

Alex:  At least I will have some milk.  Excuse me, Sibyl.  I’ve got some narration to do.  And so Sibyl at length showed me the way into Hell.

Sibyl:  But I haven’t done it yet!

Alex:  Humor me.  We entered the tunnel in her basement that led to Hell.  Soon we met a middle-aged dead Italian guy named Virgil.

Virgil:  Hello there!  Sybil, what do you want?

Sybil:  To die.  But Alex here needs to go to Hell.

Virgil:  (sighs)  Work, work, work.  Oh well.  Come with me, Alex.  I’ll take you on the grand tour.

Alex:  But all I want is a bottle of milk.

Virgil:  Oh, well then, you’ll want the Seven Eleven, I expect.  Third abyss on your left.

Alex:  Thanks.

Virgil:  No problem.

Alex:  And so thanks to Mr. Virgil’s instructions I proceded on to the Seven Eleven.

Virgil:  Who is he talking to?

Sybil:  The listening audience.

Virgil:  Oh.  Wanna go see my prophetic scroll?

Sybil:  No.

Virgil:  I see.

Alex:  I was horrified to learn that the way to the Seven Eleven was guarded by Syllabus, the dreaded three-headed hamster of dark legend!

Syllabus:  (not at all impressive—try funny high-pitched voices)  Halt!  Who dares trespass in the lair of Syllabus?

Alex:  I have come for some milk.

Syllabus:  Then you must answer my riddle.  What is the difference between a duck?

Alex:  And what?

Syllabus:  Hmm?

Alex:  Between a duck and what else?

Syllabus:  That’s it.  Just the duck.

Alex:  One of its legs are both the same?

Syllabus:  Damn.  Everybody always gets that one.  Go on in.

Alex:  After that harrowing experience, buying the milk was easy.  But, as the Sybil warned me, it wasn’t easy to leave Hell, for my way was blocked by Trent, the Fairy Man.

Trent:  Go back, little man.  There is no escape from the dread pit of Hell.

Alex:  I only came for some milk.

Trent:  Oh, you pathetically struggling mortals are so cute!  I could just hug you.  But instead, I must cast you into the eternal fires of the abyss.

Satan:  What seems to be the problem, Trent?

Trent:  This...person, O Infernal Lord of Us All and Mighty Ruler of the Planes of Hades, Evil One, Corrupter and Defiler of the Holy Things, wants to leave.

Satan:  Oh, hi, Alex.  Run out of milk again?

Alex:  Yeah.

Satan:  We appreciate your patronage.  See you next week?

Trent:  You mean...you mean you’re going to let him go?!!!...Master?

Satan:  Don’t worry about it, Trent.  Aren’t you supposed to be scaring people in the Hell for Closed-Minded Jocks?

Trent:  Sorry, O Lord of the Flies.  I forgot.

Satan:  Bye, Alex.

Alex:  Bye, Satan.  You evil bastard.  (Pause)  And so I returned to my house, content with my milk and my stale Oppress-O’s, official cereal of the David Duke election campaign, knowing that once again I had faced eternal peril and come back with a nice cold bottle of Vitamin D milk.  Until next time, when I’ll be someone else, this is Alex saying, “Uh-oh, here comes the lobster man!”