Temporarily Humboldt County
INDIAN 1: Well, I think it’s about time . . . the way the corn’s been growing for the last two or three generations . . .
INDIAN 2: Look at that herd of Buffalo. They’re ready.
INDIAN 1: Everything’s living the Great Spirit’s way. In harmony.
INDIAN 2: He’ll be here soon.
INDIAN 1: The true white brother’s coming home. Remember what the Great Spirit said? If we did what we were supposed to do and lived according to the plan? White brother would finish his work in the East and come back to us.
INDIAN 2: It’ll be nice to have the family together again.
CONQUISTADOR 1: Buenos Dios, amigos!
INDIAN 1: Hello! You must be the true white brother.
CONQUISTADOR 1: Sure! You must be the Indians!
INDIAN 1: Yes.
INDIAN 2: Welcome home!
CONQUISTADOR 1: Welcome to New Spain! This is your new father, Father Corona.
FATHER CORONA [with thick Irish brogue]: [Mutters in Latin.] Down on your knees now! Do you recognize what I’m holding over your heads, lads?
INDIAN 1: It’s a cross: the symbol of the quartering of the universe into active and passive principles.
FATHER CORONA: God have mercy on their heathen souls.
CONQUISTADOR 1: What the Father means . . . is what is the cross made of? Gold! Have you got any?
INDIAN 1: No.
CONQUISTADOR 1: What about the seven cities of gold? Phoenix, Tucson, Las Vegas?
INDIAN 2: Uh, this is gold.
CONQUISTADOR 1: What’s that?
INDIAN 1: Corn.
CONQUISTADOR 2: Hey, corn! Now we can make tortillas!
CONQUISTADOR 3: We’ve been waiting for this for hundreds of years.
CONQUISTADOR 4: I’ve just invented tacos.
CONQUISTADOR 1: So this is all you’ve got?
INDIAN 1: Yes . . . but aren’t you the true white brother who’s supposed to come live with us in peace?
CONQUISTADOR 1: Sure, therefore I claim this rich world of pasture land in the name of the Empire of Spain!
CONQUISTADOR 2: Hey hey hey capitano! The rain . . . she’s-a stoppa to fall . . . and the corn . . . she’s all-a dead!
CONQUISTADOR 1: Shut up-pa, Vespucc’! I claim this stinking desert in the name of the Empire of Spain forever. Let’s go!
CONQUISTADORES (all sing): God bless Vespucciland . . . .
FATHER CORONA: By the way, domini domini domini you’re all Catholics now. God bless you . . . and good luck.
CONQUISTADOR 1: Come on, Father. Nobody in their right minds would live in this stinking desert.
CONQUISTADOR 4: Come on, Cisco.
SOURCE: The Firesign Theater. Temporarily Humboldt County [transcription of scene 1, dialogue only], Waiting For The Electrician (Or Someone Like Him). New York: Columbia Records [now SONY], 1968. (The Firesign Theater's first album, track 1, scene 1.)
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Uploaded 21 October 2004
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