[Screen zooms in slowly to Salad fingers out in the Barren Wasteland, inside a market stall containing different items and stock. Outside the table is an empty cardboard box and a large empty jar.]
Salad Fingers: (Singing) ♪ Ooh-Rye-Be-Doo-Rye! ♪ Shuffle up, slugs and sliders, heh. Come and get a taste of my silky wares.
[Flies are heard buzzing in the background, as Salad Fingers points to all the different "foods" sitting in the display spaces.]
Salad Fingers: We've got Bentley Bars, pickled cheeks, burnt peas, heh. And for the older gents... enquire about our dirty images.
[Salad Fingers pulls out an old photo of a worn-out boot, breathing heavily. He whistles.]
Salad Fingers: This was my mother.
[Salad Fingers gently strokes the image, moaning softly.]
[The scene cuts to the outside of his market stall. A murder of crows are seen congregating and making sounds.]
[Scene cuts back to Salad Fingers.]
Salad Fingers: We'd best prepare for the incoming horde of customers, Hubert Cumberdale. (Salad Fingers reveals Hubert Cumberdale, in his puppet form, on his finger.) So, I'm placing you on the meet and greet desk.
[Salad Fingers pulls the finger puppet off, and tosses him into the dirt a few feet away from the stall. He slightly sinks into the ground.]
Salad Fingers: I believe I can hear the punters rushing in.
[The ground shakes and rumbles, as a tall head of a humanoid creature pokes through the ground. Long eyes slide out of the sockets and wiggle around, admiring what's in front of it.]
Salad Fingers: (Unamused) Mark Dimaline! Augh. Can I assume h-you will actually be making a purchase this week?
["Mark Dimaline" growls and gurgles.]
Mark Dimaline: (In a high-pitched, demonic voice) I'd just like a glass of water, please.
Salad Fingers: Augh. You're taking advantage of my good nature again.
[Hubert Cumberdale walks on his own up to Mark Dimaline with an old glass full of a brown substance, places it in front of him, then walks back. Mark Dimaline takes a second before grabbing the glass with his long black tongue, and eating it whole. His eyes retreat back inside his head, before going back into the ground.]
[The scene cuts to a crow flying down to a tray of pieces of skin, and takes a few pieces before flying away with them. Salad Fingers swiftly walks up to the scene, surprised.]
Salad Fingers: (Gasps) Thief! Common thief! There-there he goes, officer. Arrest that thief.
[The scene cuts to the crow with the skin pieces, flying away with the others and making sounds. Salad Fingers frowns at the crows, pointing at them.]
Salad Fingers: I-I shouldn't wish your mothers would approve of such pilfering!
[The scene cuts to the crows a few meters away, eating the pieces of his skin.]
Salad Fingers: Luckily, I have some reserve stock.
[Salad Fingers lifts up his shirt to reveal his stomach, covered in a few marks. He proceeds to peel pieces of his skin off and place them on the tray.]
[The scene cuts to the outside of Salad Fingers' market stall, as he starts singing again.]
Salad Fingers: (Singing) ♪ Ooh-Rye-Be-Doo-Rye! Air-be-clenkins, fair-be-clenkins! ♪ Crunchy moths and hovercloths. Don't-Do-Don't miss out on these dirty deals! (Sighs)
[END]
| Salad Fingers Episode Transcripts |
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