Transcribed from: Comedy Central[Mark is supposed to be a cat. He's dressed in black, his hair is teased out, and he's wearing fingerless gloves. He's sprawled out on the top of a brick building.]
Transcribed by: Tlyco@aol.com
Mark: There are three things I don't like: crazy cars, crazy kids, and birds. The first two, I avoid. The last? I eat. Oh me? I'm a cat.
[Cut to mark pouncing and taking swips at the camera.]
Mark: 10:53am, I'm out in the back yard by the big tree. You know, the big tree--the cornerstone of my life? My big leafy friend? There's a bird around, but he's sticking to the upper branches, so I'm staying real still, motionless. In fact, when there's a bird around, I like to pretend I'm a. . .a log. Yeah, yeah that's it, a log. Cuz logs are still. . .they don't move. Take it boys.
[Cut to a cat band composed of Dave on piano, Kevin on drums, Bruce on bass, and Scott dancing; all are as cool cats. Meowing is heard. After a few seconds, cut back to Mark.]
Mark: Yeah. Yeah yeah yeah yeah. 10:59am, my being still log scheme is paying off big time. The bird comes in for a landing. When a bird comes in for a landing, I don't do anything 'cept watch. . .I watch the bird. . .come in for a landing. I watch it, what would I watch? The tree? Anyways, he's real close now, between five and forty yards--I'm not great with distances. But I do know instincts, so I pounce!
[Cut to Mark leaping up, swatting at the bird. Feathers fly.]
Mark: Ah, the bird flies up. Me, I can't. I--I can't fly. Cats can't fly. I'm a cat, don't you--whoosh! [makes gesture that he went over the audience's heads] you people, I swear. Well, you don't have to tell me. It's hell being a cat. Take it boys.
[Cut to band. End.]