1989

Our announcer for the 1989 football season was Brian Schoner ’90

9/16/1989 — Dartmouth

Ladies and gentlemen, perhaps this is a good time to look back and reflect on recent events, for the Summer of 1989 was truly the “Summer of Squandered Money.” Don’t believe us? Please direct your attention to midfield, where we present exhibit A: the Stealth Bomber. (pause) This military marvel is completely invisible to radar, just like the Princeton University Band! (Band runs screaming onto the field, dodging Dartmouth ‘shmen) Actually, the Stealth Bomber is already obsolete. A newer model features a much-needed lumbar support, swaybars, and rich Corinthian leather. All this for the low, low price of 1.8 billion of your tax dollars, or two for 3.4. And for the kiddies, there will be a Stealth Big Wheel and a Stealth Sit’n’Spin – in stores by the holiday season. But the most exciting project is yet to come… Look–up in the sky! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s a sheep! (“A sheep?”) No, it’s the Stealth Blimp! (Band forms a blimp, with the word ‘SHHHHHH!’ in the middle and plays “Underdog”) Speaking of hot air, word is that PeteRose has opened a new sports hotline, where he’ll be laying odds on upcoming sporting events. The number to call is 1-900-WHATBET? It’s 50 dollars for the first minute, and kids, be sure to ask your parents to leave the house before you call. Act now, because Pete will be giving away an original, none-other-like-it, one-of-a-kind autographed baseball bat…to the first 500 callers. Forming the odds of Pete Rose ever returning to baseball, the Band plays “Take Me Out of the Ballgame.” (Band forms a ‘0’ and plays “Take Me Out To the Ballgame”) Pete got off easy, but in NewYork, it was Hotel Queen Leona Helmsley’s turn to be raked over the IRS coals. The Princeton Band asked Leona why she spent millions in pilfered money on personal leg waxing and she replied: “Only the little people shave their legs.” Well, at least she didn’t waste the money on something stupid, like her income tax. Sorry, Leona; you’ve been found guilty of tax evasion. We’re afraid you’ll have to sell your hotels, mortgage Park Place, and go directly to jail. (Band forms Jail with ‘Sing Sing’ sign and plays “Jailhouse Rock”) And now the Princeton Band leaves the plane of the playing field, just like Voyager in its Grand Tour of the planets, and welcomes the spaced-out Dartmouth band.

9/23/1989 — William and Mary

Show writing began: 23 September, 12:35 A.M. Show writing ended: 23 September, 4:55 A.M. Show performed: 23 September, 2:33 P.M. 14 hours, inception to performanceLadies and gentlemen, swirling onto the field like Hurricane Hugo, it’s the…no, wait. That’s just what they’ll be expecting us to do. Barrelling onto the field like a plethora of plaid sea monkeys, it’s the Princeton University Band. (Band runs screaming onto the field) Once upon a time, in a University far, far, away, a marching band wrote a very funny and informative halftime show…as usual. The next day they tried to practice, but it rained…a lot. The day after that, they cancelled rehearsal because Williard Scott said it would pour…it didn’t. So Friday came and the band realized that they were hosed…thoroughly. Being the musical martyrs that they were, the band stayed up all night to grind out an equally piquant halftime show. And it is with great pleasure that we, the Princeton Band, recreate that fateful show for you today. Forming a high pressure front on the field, the Band plays “Wipeout.” (Band forms a blob and plays “Wipeout”) It was a dark and stormy night. Though the Band was submerged in a deluge of homework, we decided to brave the monsoon and set sail for the Agua-Wa. Riding on the campus pontoon shuttle, we observed the crew team, rowing across Cannon Green. We docked at the Wa, but a small group continued on to Forbes College–“It’s worth the swim.” In the distance we saw a large ark moored at the Dinky station. Boarding the ark, shown here, the Band braces for the full forty days and forty nights of “Raindrops Falling on our Heads.” (Band forms an Arc and plays “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head”) Look Band, something’s coming. We don’t know how it got here, or why. It’s leaving a whirlwind of chaos and confusion in its wake. No, it’s not the University’s new PUTS phone system; it’s a tornado. Run for shelter! Oh no, Band. You ran into Clapp Hall, the worst place to be in a storm. You’re floating away. I don’t even think you’re on campus anymore. Those aren’t freshman; they’re munchkins. Pay no attention to the man in Nassau Hall. This land of Oz reminds us that tornados can be fun. Forming the most enjoyable twister we know, the Band clicks its heels together three times and plays “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” (Band plays Twister with colored sheets and plays “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”) Oh, look Band! You’ve made a mess. But luckily, we’re used to natural disasters; after all, we’ve been to New Haven. There are so many disasters, it’s hard to pick our favorite. Take the BlackPlague. Please. No, really. Or how about Pompeii, shown here. (Band freezes) More recent natural disasters include the San Francisco earthquake, and Ishtar, which did far more damage. Saluting Mother Nature and her little boy Hugo, the Band forms a ravaged South Carolina city and plays an earth-moving rendition of Charleston. (Band forms a blob and plays “Charleston”) And now the Princeton Band leaves you with the following question: “Doesn’t the Coke from the refreshment stand taste just a little bit funny to you?”

9/30/1989 — Holy Cross

Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a penny-snatching, money-hungry look at rampant commercialism. “Princeton Forward” Commercialism has now touched on almost every aspect of our lives. Is nothing sacred? For example, with major corporations sponsoring most college Bowl games, Big Business has replaced Fruit of the Loom as the country’s strongest athletic supporter. And speaking of athletic supporters, the jocks over at Oklahoma University have really been taken to the cleaners for reportedly taking money under the table. In a related Colonial League scandal, Holy Cross gridders are suspected of sipping Sacramental wine under the table. Forming a different kind of bottle on the field, the Princeton Band salutes what it likes to do under the table. (Band forms a bottle and plays “Tequila”) One of the most recent participants in the commercialization club is the phone company. Hey. Yeah, you. Muscles feeling a bit flaccid? No time to exercise? Just call Dial-a-Workout. Five pounds for the first minutes, two pounds for each additional minutes. It works better than the abdomenizer. Cordless phone recommended. So, who have you been calling, Holy Cross band? Was it the “True Confessions” line? We called the line, and the confessions we heard about made our mom wash our mouths out with soap. Saluting the Holy Cross band’s 6,900 dollar phone bill, the Band forms a foaming mouth and plays “I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles.” (Band forms a mouth with fire-extinguisher “foam” and plays “I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles”) When the Band was a kid, Saturday mornings were our favorite. But cartoons have sold out, too. The Jetsons and Bugs Bunny have given way to half-hour commercials for Transformers and G.I. Joe with Kung-Fu grip. If it weren’t for these shows teaching kids the principles of violence and world domination, they might be wasting their time by taking a nap…or reading a book. (Band yells “Yuck!”) And now the Princeton Band joins in the fracas, as we present the ultimate Saturday morning sellout: us. Please join in, as we salute our new corporate sponsor. (Band forms a mug with diminishing contents and plays “Miller Time”) Holy Cross: nine letters. Lunch Meat: nine letters. Coincidence? You decide.

10/7/1989 — Brown

“The Brown Underwear Show” Ladies and gentlemen, a brief look at underwear, brought to you by Maidenform. The Maidenform Band: Who knows where they’ll turn up. (“Princeton Forward”) Boy, cosmic string theory sure is complicated, but not nearly as complicated as women’s underwear. Modern women have to contend with billions and billions of hooks, pins, and fasteners, not to mention Velcro, FunTak, and duct tape. Of course, not all women have this problem; for Brooke Shields, nothing comes between her and her Calvins. Quite a change from the days when every morning Grandma June had to stuff herself into her corset, shown here. Saluting this painful practice, the Band remembers when June was busting out all over. (Band forms a corset–which contracts–and plays “June is Busting Out All Over”) Men’s underwear has a long and provocative history. Originally, men covered themselves with fig leaves–the original fruit of the loom. However, anthropologists are still unsure just how early man kept them on. Mankind chafed throughout the Stone Age, but his primitive flint athletic supporters were the first “Rocks for Jocks.” During the Bronze and Iron Ages, man experimented with new materials, but welding the fly shut was too time-consuming and just too darn dangerous. Men wore no underwear in the Dark Ages–but who knew? This proved very embarrassing at the start of the Enlightenment, when man realized that he had to hide his love away. (Band forms athletic supporter and plays “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away”) In revolutionary times, underwear was hard to find. A British bloomer embargo caught the American forces at Valley Forge with their pants down. Take George Washington. (Band yells “Please! … No, really!”) Sure, his wooden teeth were uncomfortable, but his mahogany drawers were the real reason he was standing while crossing the Delaware. Man didn’t improve much on underwear until the Industrial Revolution, and even then he didn’t change it much. Just recently, when we heard that a certain Ivy League band had been wearing the same pair of boxers for three weeks straight, we weren’t surprised to find out it was Brown. Completely revolted, we urge the Brown band to take it off, take it all off! (Band forms boxers, which come down with lagging trombone and cymbals and plays “Stripper”) What are you doing, Band? There are laws against that in this state. Go run away and put some clothes on.

10/14/1989 — Columbia

Ladies and gentlemen, in a salute to our honored guests, the Princeton University Band takes a no-holds-barred look at things Columbian. (“Princeton Forward”) Students have long been aware of their options when it comes to staying awake during that all-nighter: one is rich Columbian coffee; the other is made by rich Columbians. Speaking of rich Columbians, the FBI has arranged for the immediate extradition of Juan Valdez, for allegedly hand-picking a most suspicious Columbian blend. The FBI also attempted a military raid on Columbia, but only had enough frequent flyer miles to reach Columbia, South Carolina. So they levelled it instead. They quickly concocted a cover story about a hurricane named Hugo and leaked it to the world through a Northeastern college newspaper, shown here. The Prince regrets the error. (Band forms a newspaper and plays “Another One Bites the Dust”) With the ever-increasing crackdown, the Columbian Cartel has been forced to diversify, by merging with the Columbia record and tape club. But don’t worry, you’ll still be able to get your six big hits for just one penny. You’re not even obligated to buy anything further…but most customers do. Prompt payment is appreciated, or one of their collection agents will visit your home with some .38 caliber motivation, shown here. (Band forms a gun and plays “Peter Gunn”) Last month, Columbia Pictures was bought by the Sony Electronics megacorporation, who has announced plans to re-release such classic films as “House of the Rising Sun,” “Empire of the Sun,” “A Raisin in the Sun,” “Sanford and Son,” “Looking for Mr. Goodbar-san,” “The Man with the Golden Shogun,” and “Godzilla Eats the Federal Reserve.” There will also be an adaptation of the Dr. Seuss classic, “Green Eggs and Tofu” with that famous opening line, “I are Sam, Samurai.” Another recently acquired Sony subsidiary, Columbia Records, is preparing to release Madonna’s new album, “Like a Geisha,” as well as old classics like “Wake Up Little Sushi,” “Wouldn’t it be Rice,” and “Wok Around the Clock.” Forming a wok on the field, the Band stir-fries its trash section, and salutes Sony for stirring up the American entertainment scene. (Band forms a wok–as trash are cooked there are puffs from extinguishers–while playing “Rock Around the Clock”) Columbia, Columbia, Columbia, making the news every night–all except for those baby blue blundering bozos from the wrong side of the river. As you can see, the Columbia band seems to sleepwalk through life. Peering into their dreams we find a strange Freudian fixation with the year 1613. Events of this year include Tchaikovsky composing the “1613 Overture,” commemorating the War of 1613, the start of the Irish Potato Famine, from which DFS has yet to recover, and Princeton University first evaluating the feasibility of the possibility of a Campus Center Now! Strange dreams, indeed. Needless to say, Columbia should have just stayed in bed this morning, for while the Tiger prowls this Palmer jungle, the Lion sleeps tonight. (Band forms ‘Z Z Z’, spells ‘WIMOWEH’ with cards, plays “The Lion Sleeps Tonight”) Columbia: nine letters. Cane Spree: nine letters. Coincidence? You decide.

10/21/1989 — Fordham

Ladies and Gentlemen, celebrating Tiger Football’s 1000th game, the Princeton University Band takes a record-breaking look at some other recent milestones. (“Princeton Forward”) In a recent milestone across the water, the EastGerman people prepared for a gala celebration commemorating forty years of life, liberty, and the pursuit of exit visas. Imagine the government’s surprise when 40,000 revelers decided to skip the festivities and party all the way into Hungary. An undaunted East German official proclaimed: “Think of all the money we’ll save on party hats!” Balance was restored finally when 40,000 Hungarians eagerly rushed into East Germany to rummage through the exiles’ drawers. Forming a famous Berlin landmark on the field, the Band salutes Glasnost, East German style, and watches the walls come tumblin’ down. (Band forms Berlin Wall, sans barbed wire and plays “Joshua”) Another recent milestone was the merger of Dial Lodge and the defunct Cannon Club. This will give Cannon another shot at the record for driving an eating club into the ground. No week-long parties this time, O.K. Cannon? In a related story, the Society of Women Engineers, S-W-E, and Tiger Inn have merged to form the SWETI organization. Meanwhile, Dial’s plan to move its headquarters to the old Cannon building have been delayed due to Dial’s inability to unstick the furniture from their basement floor. Forming the merger of Dial and Cannon, the Band sympathizes with their plight, and plays “I Can’t Pry You Loose.” (Band forms ‘C – D’ and plays “I Can’t Turn You Loose”) Today’s most important milestone, however, involves the number 1000. The Band was going to form a numerical 1000, but we would stand a better chance of forming a script “Ohio State.” So, when in the Ivy League, do as the Romans did, shown here. Please direct your attention to midfield, as the Band forms:
  1. The number of games played at Princeton stadiums
  2. The number of muggings outside of Fordham’s stadium
  3. The number of Harvard alumni it takes to screw in a lightbulb
  4. The number of Princeton alumni it takes to rule the world, and
  5. The number of points of light in a certain Yale alum’s pipe dream
(Band forms an ‘M’ and flashcards below it read ‘A THOUSAND’) Riding off into the sunset, the Band salutes 75 years of Tiger Football at Palmer Stadium, and demonstrates our favorite happy ending. (The ‘M’ changes into a ‘W’ and the flashcards flip to read ‘TIGERS WIN’ then band plays “Ride of the Valkyries”) Wagner: six letters. Palmer: six letters. Coincidence? You decide.

10/28/1989 — Hahvahd

Ladies and gentlemen, in the grand spirit of Socrates, Plato, and Dan Quayle, the Princeton University Band takes a mind-probing look at great thinkers. (“Princeton Forward”) Every great thinker’s career starts with a big bang, and for Sigmund Freud, it came while searching through the icebox with his wife. Freud discovered something moldy and smelly. “It’s Old Harvard” proclaimed his wife. “No, I mean old harvarti.” Thus was born the first Freudian slip. But Freud wasn’t always this brilliant. His first job was as a television producer for such shows as “Mr. Oedipus,” “The Electra Company,” “The Jung and the Restless,” and “I Dream of Mommie.” Forming Freud’s tattoo on the field, the Band demonstrates its envy for Freud’s great big…mind. (Band forms a heart with the word ‘MOM’ and plays “I Want a Girl Just Like the Girl That Married Dear Old Dad”) It was early in his career that Charles Darwin first introduced his controversial theory on Band evolution, Survival of the Plaidest. Deciding that the Yale Band was an evolutionary dead end, Darwin chose instead to trace the history of the Princeton Band, starting 300million years ago when they were just little plaid trumpet fish. Soon after, the Band crawled out of the water (Band crawls) and took the first few cautious steps on land (Band stands cautiously)…but decided they liked crawling better (Band falls down and crawls again). 100 million years later it was the Cro-Magnon Band who simultaneously invented fire and the F-Trumpet, but soon disregarded fire because it couldn’t do this…(F-Trumpet plays a fanfare). Growing more erect every millennia, they soon evolved into the modern Princeton Band, who now form a family tree on the field to show they haven’t forgotten their simple roots. (Band forms a tree and plays “The Flintstones”) Music and Politics go hand in hand. The Princeton Band has always leaned to the left (Band leans) so it’s not surprising that one of our favorite intellectuals is Karl Marx. Karl was always the black sheep of the Marx clan, until he joined the family act. Groucho, Harpo, Chico, and Zeppo welcomed “Pinko” with open arms. Marx was heard to say, “This morning I shot a Capitalist pig in my pyjamas. How the Capitalist pig got in my pyjamas I’ll never know.” (rim shot) Of the Bourgeoisie he proclaimed, “I never forget a class, but in their case I’ll make an exception.” (rim shot) Saluting the most influential Marx brother, the Band plays a musical tribute to Marx’s greatest works, “A Day at the Races” and “A Night at the Opera.” (Band forms glasses, nose, and moustache a la Groucho and plays “Phantom of the Opera”) And now, the only band in the Ivy League that’s not of lesser quality than ourselves: the Yale band.

11/4/1989 — Penn

“The P To the Fifth Show” Ladies and gentlemen, in today’s cutthroat, competitive world, one thing you really need to know is the alphabet. (“The Alphabet Song”) (Band runs onto field) A recent poll of 1,000 Penn students showed that less than 10% could locate the letter ‘P’ on the world map. In a dramatic response, Penn has created a new course, “English 101:The Alphabet.” Students must attend twenty of the twenty-six lectures, including all five vowels…and sometimes ‘Y’. To avoid the obvious confusion over letter grades, students will receive only smiley faces and gold stars until the final. At this time they will be converted either to a ‘P’ for ‘Pass’, or an ‘F’, the Penn band. Forming the grading options on the field, the Band reminds Penn that you’ll be better off if you take a ‘P’. (Band forms an ‘F’ which becomes a ‘P’ and plays “Joshua”) Most Penn students prefer to learn without thinking at all. For them, the Band has brought along subliminal learning tapes. Now their subconscious mind can learn the alphabet, while their conscious mind maintains its normal state of total inactivity. Here’s a sample: “Relax Band. Close your eyes and ignore any distractions, like the Penn Band. Picture A quiet beach where you won’t B disturbed. Listen to the soothing sounds of the C. As you listen, your subconscious mind will absorb knowledge of D alphabet Easily and F-fortlessly. When you awake you will feel invigorated and full of enerG; you will also feel an irrational desire to form a script ‘Pennsylvania’ on the field and play Hawaii 5-0.” (Band forms a script ‘P’ and plays “Hawaii 5-0”) The sleek lines of the ‘A’. The delicate curves of the ‘B’. The bold strokes of the ‘D’. These and twenty-three more hand-crafted rich Corinthian letters can be yours in the new Franklin Mint Alphabet Collection. When we receive your order, we will immediately ship your first letter, ‘Q’. It will automatically be followed by ‘U’. You will also receive a fine oak display cabinet and a free Penn diploma. The Franklin Field–er, Mint–Alphabet Collection makes a beautiful addition to any home, and will be a source of pride for generations to come. The Band now contemplates our first few letters, “Q-ie, U-ie,” and says, “We gotta go now.” (Band forms a typewritten ‘P’ and plays “Louis, Louis”) And now, a message from Band President Ben Berger: “A billion dollars? For me? You shouldn’t have.”

11/11/1989 — Yale

Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at the battle between Good and Evil. ***(“Princeton Forward”) Some people wonder whether the Princeton Band is good or evil, because like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, evil can often be disguised. Take the Trojan War. Please. No, really. The Greeks were faced with a well-guarded fortress, so they hid their manpower in the ribs of a huge horse, and rode it to victory. In a tribute to the Trojan Horse, the Band forms its footprint, and recalls when Helen of Troy realized that she would need better protection than Trojans. (Band forms a horseshoe and plays “The William Tell Overture”) Even at Princeton, good struggles against evil. Deep in the heart of the Computer Center, a bleary-eyed senior works on his thesis–the big’T’–shown here: (The Band forms a ‘T’, cards in front read ‘ON FILE’) Suddenly, from behind a laser printer jumps the evil Spellbinder, who, with a flick of his magic wand, changes the thesis from ON FILE to ON FIRE. (Spellbinder changes ‘ON FILE’ to ‘ON FIRE’) Oh, no! This looks like a job for Letterman. Ripping the ‘B’ from his sweater, Letterman throws it on the thesis, changing it from ON FIRE to a BONFIRE. (Drum Major adds ‘B’, changes ‘ON FIRE’ to ‘BONFIRE’) The Band salutes a Princeton victory over Yale, truly Good versus Evil. (“When the Saints Go Marching In”) (British voice) Good evening, and welcome to Masterpiece Theater. Tonight, in the grand tradition of “The Lord of the Flies” and “The Count of Monte Christo,” we present “The Dukes of Hazzard.” This is an epic tale of good and evil, woven against a backdrop of rural greed and corruption. The first of a two hundred part series. Just some good olde boys. Never meaning no harm. Be there as Boss Hogg rips off his mask and proclaims “Luke, I am your father.” And be there as the Duke boys dip into television past and release the ultimate force in fighting evil. (Band forms a genie bottle, which opens with puffs from extinguishers while playing “I Dream of Jeannie”) Since time began, the forces of good have often used great kings to champion their cause. King David and King Arthur were fine, but they are mere peons compared to the greatest sovereign of recent times: THE KING himself, Elvis. But, alas, the King has left us. Without him, millions of people have been left without a purpose, without a direction. Luckily, they’re mostly in New Haven. The Band looks forward to the year 2001, when good will finally triumph over evil, and the King of Rock-n-Roll will return through the magic of genetic engineering. (Band forms an upside-down ‘Y’ and seniors flash while playing “Also Sprach Zarathustra”) ELVIS HAS A CLONE! ELIS HAVE NO CLASS TIGERS KICK TAIL! And be sure to tune in next week as we present a candid look at the cities of Princeton, Cambridge, and New Haven, entitled “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.”

11/18/1989 — Cornell

Neither rain nor sleet nor dark of night shall keep these messengers of music, marching, mirth, and merriment from their appointed rounds. Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band! (“Princeton Forward”) When the Band returned to campus in the Fall, we were delighted to discover a backlog of summer mail. We waded quickly through the bills, subpoenas, and paternity suits, and arrived at the Band’s favorite form of correspondence: junk mail. Here’s a letter with no return address:
Dear Idiots, For people who are supposed to be funny, you are the most pathetically immature, vulgar, unfunny group on campus....
Oh, wait a minute. This is addressed to Tiger Magazine. Here is another letter, which was sent through campus mail…in 1975. Forming a mailbox on the field, the Band salutes the campus mail system: when it absolutely, positively has to be there…eventually. (Band forms a mailbox and plays “Mission Impossible” during which the mailbox flag goes up) Oh, look! We’ve received another recruitment letter from the Navy:
Dear High School Senior, How would you like to learn a valuable trade? Meet new friends? Get a free uniform, and earn almost 200 dollars a month? And all while spending ten action-filled days and twelve sleepless nights in the scenic Persian Gulf. In the Navy, you can sail the seven seas In the Navy, you can put your mind at ease In the Navy, come on now people, take a stand In the Navy, can't you see we need a hand
Jobs are hard to find, so we imagine ourselves in a submarine, miles beneath Lake Carnegie. As we hunch over the radar console, shown here, searching in vain for the Cornell band, the Navy theme song begins coursing through our veins, and we contemplate our future as sea men and women. (Band forms a radar sweep and plays “Anchors Aweigh”) What’s this–another sweepstakes?
Dear Mr. and Mrs. PRINCETOM U. BAND, YOU may already have won ten million orange and black plaid jackets. Yes, that's right. Skeptical? Just listen to this from Mr. Al Frente of Wahpeton Falls, North Dakota: "Our children used to wear rags, then we heard about your sweepstakes. We didn't think anybody every really won those plaid jackets. (Band shouts: That's what we used to think!) Now our kids can drop out of High School in style." WHAT A TESTIMONIAL! Enter as often as you like; no purchase necessary. Signed, Ed McMuffin
Excited, the Band rushes to enter, with giddy dreams of “Pennies from Heaven.” (Band forms a cent sign and plays “Pennies from Heaven”)Here is another piece of the Band’s junk mail:
Dear Reader, Do not throw this letter away; it has already been around the world six times. A college president in Michigan made ten copies and mailed them off; two years later he became president of an East Coast Ivy League University. A man in Wahpeton Falls, North Dakota sent off ten copies and the next week he won a sweepstakes. The Cornell band broke the chain, and on the way here this morning they were run over by a train. Five times. So keep the chain going, or risk having your saxophone section defect to ThePrincetonSentinel.
Speaking of chain letters, the Band harkens back to the days of Camelot: a time when chain mail, shown here, was a good thing. (Band forms chain mail and plays “Riding Music” from Monty Python and the Holy Grail) Now, what have we here?
Dear Occupant, Do you hanker for the buying power you so richly deserve? (Band yells:"YES!") Are you having trouble getting buying credit? We at the Princeton University Store are your friends. Absolutely no one will be turned down for credit. All you need is a good honest face, a signature, and two working parents. And, dear occupant, as our valued customer, we offer you the U-Store's most prestigious service--the PlaidCard--shown here. (Band forms a plaid card.) With this card you can buy absolutely anything, even that 50,000 dollar kiosk you've had your eye on. And with Buyer's Assurance, all textbooks can be resold to the U-Store at the end of the semester, for a full 4% of their original value. So call the U-Store and order today. Just dial 1-800-M-O-N-O-P-L-Y, and remember, when your parents are paying, you can kiss those "easy street blues" goodbye.
(Band forms Plaid Card and plays “Basin Street Blues”) And now that the Band has received a few letters, it’s time that we mailed a few thank-you notes of our own: To Chris Van Selous: thanks for keeping an eye on us, and tying up our loose ends. And to Murt, Tom, and Bob, for occasionally washing our mouths out with soap. Thanks also to Jim Mohr and company, for stuffing our faces. And a special note of thanks to Jack Hontz for whipping us into a musical frenzy, and to Kristen’s mom for whipping us up those cookies. But our biggest thank you goes to you, our loyal fans, for laughing at our jokes, whether you got them or not. Forsaking for the moment our repertoire, our usual frivolity, and our personal safety, the Princeton Band now plays “The Stars and Stripes Forever,” by John Philip Sousa. (Band scripts into a ‘PU’ and plays “The Stars and Stripes Forever”) And now, on behalf of soon-to-be President Emeritus Ben “Muscles T” Berger, Student Conductor Felix “Wo wo wo” Goodson, and Drum Major Andy “White Castle Underwear” Stein, this is your announcer Brian “Mommie Dearest” Schoner reminding you that tuna is the worst mixer.

11/18/1989 — The Cornell “Show That Never Was”

(On the advice of our lawyers, this script is not included in this electronic collection, and is only available to PUB members and alumni. If you really want a copy of this script, which was cut in its entirety by our censors, you’ll have to retrieve it separately. But we warn you: Be afraid. Be very afraid.)