A Token Of My Extreme (Act II, Scene Nine)

Arriving at L. RON HOOVER’s modernistic office/cathedral/warehouse/condominium complex, JOE is greeted by a pre-recorded message and a dramatically illuminated image on a wall-sized TV screen . . .

L. Ron Hoover:

Welcome to the  First Church of Appliantology! The WHITE ZONE is for loading and unloading only!
Don’t you be Tarot-fied
Its just a token
of my extreme
Don’t you be Tarot-fied
Its just a token
of my extreme
Don’t you never try to look behind my eyes
You don’t wanna know what they have seen
Don’t you never try to look behind my eyes
You don’t wanna know what they have seen

Joe:
(thinking to himself)
Some people think
That if they go too far
They’ll never get back
To where the rest of them are
I might be crazy
But there’s one thing I know
You might be surprised
At what you find
when ya go!

And thus, having rationalized his expedition to L. RON’s modernistic office/cathedral/warehouse/condominium complex, JOE seeks The Answer to his problem...

Joe:
Oh oh oh
Mystical Advisor
What is my problem, tell me
Can you see?

L. Ron Hoover:
Well, you have nothing to fear, my son!
You are a Latent
Appliance Fetishist,

It appears to me!

 
Joe:
That all seems very, very strange
I never craved
a toaster
Or a color T.V.
 
L. Ron Hoover:
A Latent Appliance Fetishist
Is a person who
refuses to admit
to his or herself

That sexual
gratification can
only be achieved
Through the use of MACHINES . . .
Get the picture?
 
Joe:
Are you telling me
I should come out
of the closet now
Mr. Ron?
 
L. Ron Hoover:
No, my son!
You must go into
THE CLOSET
And you will have
A lot of fun!
That’s where
they all live
So if you want an
Appliance to love you
You’ll have to
go in there
‘N’ get you one
 
Joe:
Well . . . that seems simple enough . . .
 
L. Ron Hoover:
Yes, but if you want a really GOOD one,
You’ll have to learn a foreign language . . .

Joe:
German, for instance?

 
L. Ron Hoover:
That’s right . . .
A lot of really cute
ones come from
over there!
(Fifty bucks, please)
 
And a cheerful group of Appliantologists dance into the room wearing aluminum foil lab smocks, lock arms in a circle around JOE, making sure he pays in full, all the while singing with L. RON as he delivers his final instructions . . .
 
L. Ron Hoover:
If you been
Mod-O-fied,
It’s an illusion,
an yer in between
Don’t you be
Tarot-fied,
It’s just a lot of nothin’,
So what can it mean?
If you been
Mod-O-fied,
It’s an illusion,
an yer in between
Don’t you be
Tarot-fied,
It’s just a lot of nothin’,
So what can it mean?
(etc., etc., etc.)