This is a skit written by JD Loftis and Brett Alan Colyer- it chronicles the journey of a man who must make his peace with THE most important question of our generation...Bagel Claim Worker: Hello sir, how may I serve you? Dr. Panargles: Ummm yes sir, I’ve seemed to have lost my bagel. Bagel Claim Worker: Well sir this is bagel claim so you’re in good hands. Tell me, what flight did you majestically soar through the air on? Dr. Panargles: Cinnamon Crunch flight 325 on a direct route to Honey Walnut Cream Cheese. Bagel Claim Worker: Okie Donkey! Let me check our Cinnamon Crunch flight directory. Could you just wait one French baguette while I pull this up for you? Dr. Panargles: Well…it is my bagel sir, so of course I can wait! It’s very near and dear to my bottom. Bagel Claim Worker: Spoken like a true bagel boy! Bear with me one morsel… whulp, here it is sir! You can find your lost bagel on toaster number five near sector Sesame Seed. Can I help you with any of your other bagel needs today? Dr. Panargles: Well actually, yes... the dreadful prospect of losing my beloved bagel has gotten me thinking about you, my dear soul- I have to ask you a very important question... and I hope I don't come across as presumptuous, what with you being a bagel claim worker and all, but I feel as if I have no other choice, good man- have you ever had a bagel??? Bagel Claim Worker: Why, by golly Joe Jove, now that you mention it sir, I have never had a bagel of my own. I am always assisting others with their bagel needs, but I have never allowed myself the joy of having a bagel. If you wouldn’t mind sir… what is it like? Dr. Panargles: Beg your pardon? Bagel Claim Worker: You know, to have a bagel. What is it like? Can you remember your first bagel? Dr. Panargles: Great mother of Jeff! I was just a boy of seven when I had my first bagel. A lovely dame called Jeff flew me to her bagel basket and presented it to me. I took a bite and was addicted for life. Be warned my miniscule bunyon, once you take a bite of your first bagel you will be instantaneously transported into a sea of pancakes. One of the pancakes named Greggor will say to you “eat me or else” and then every other pancake will jump into your mouth and sing of the heavenly delights of their great ancestor David, the original bagel who begat all bountiful baked goodies, including the high immigrants of old, the doughy Davids. One could compare it to being speared in the heart by one thousand sweet buttery dough arrows, with each bite piercing another artery until you pass away into a brisk sour dough bliss. Once you bite a bagel, you will most certainly die. Bagel Claim Worker: Goodness grapes! My meemaw had told me the legends of the Doughy Davids, but then daddy would always interrupt her and spattle “Our family doesn’t believe in bagels- we only believe in Cabbage!" He was a grouch, a stump, a drunk, and a murderer. Sir, please tell me. How might I acquire one of these miraculous fluffers that is a bagel? Dr. Panargles: There's a magical place on every street corner, mind you...it is called “Paienerrya”. Bagel Claim Worker: Paienerrya! So wait, you mean to exclaim that it really does exist? Dr. Panargles: It does, my dear chapper, it does. However, you must understand that chomping bagels mustn’t be taken lightly. You might want to consider taking a few days to meditate and empty your pours of all lesser biddles such as that Taco Bell you’ve got there, you nasty glump greaser. Bagel Claim Worker: But Taco Bell is all I have! How could I possibly empty my pours of all lesser frumps to be left with nothing, only to hope against hope that I might one day get the slightest chance of slicing my own bagel in half, placing it in the toaster oh so lightly and brightly, and for it to burst forth into my life? It is a great cost sir, I’m not sure if my old brittles are up for the risk. Dr. Panargles: Silence! If you but quiet your miserable soul, my scumbag, you will be able to approach mother bread, who graces all with cinnamon crumbles and asiago cheese freely and abundantly. Bagel Claim Worker: But, my holy bagel, I have never heard of such a wonderful grace that has been given to me! After I quiet my awful soul, what must I do? Dr. Panargles: You must visit “Jeremy the Stink”, give him three gordles, perform 12 hail bagels, and quickly say "PISH POSH AND AWAY WITH YOU STANKY ONE!" Don't worry, he'll know what to do. Soon your unworthy grubby paws will be grasping the morning jewel, and at that point the only thing left to do is to smother it with the blessed paste. Bagel Claim Worker: Sir, everything that you have said makes much sense. But please, be tender with me, for I am but a maggot stuck to the bottom of Bobby’s boot and I would hate to upset the blessed smelly one, but- what is the blessed paste? Dr. Panargles: The paste is what the lungs are to the heart. A bagel is nothing without its blessed paste. It is the flubbering floundering waterfall of sugarcane goodness that is spread about the bagel like the wheat of the fields. Produced from the mighty cows of Wisconsin, this parroting paste is produced from the cackling cheese curds of the dumb. It comes in many gorts and gordles; honey walnut, plain jane, and strawdairy. Bagel Claim Worker: Oh sir, this paste! It's as if I can feel it bubbling up inside my bogles! I will quit tomorrow and begin my life anew as I climb to the apex of mount sourdough- no more scowering about the toasters for others' lost bagels amongst the mess that is the bagel claim! NO MORE! Dr. Panargles: Now, let us sing the blessed bagel hymn together: Mother Bread, who art at Paienerrya, blessed be your bagels, For there’s nothing like a bagel in the morning They’re fluffity, they’re puffity, one two three four five I’d like my bagel toasted, but not too darkly toasted, There’s nothing like a bagel in the morrrning! Dr. Panargles: Amen, hallelujah, you are DISMISSED!