Next we have a man who bills himself as "The World's Most Dangerous Comedian." Currently opening for Dr. Depravity at Caligula's Palace in Las Vegas, you must give it up -- or else -- for... The Crooked Claw!

STAND-UP CLAW

(The Laugh)

You are all in my power, and you will laugh. (The Claw produces push-button attached to a wire) Just so you know, this building is wired with high explosives. If you don't laugh, this building will be blown sky-high. I suppose that would make you a captive audience. That joke always kills them... one way or the other. I'm a master criminal and a master comedian. But you may call me "master" for short.

I have found this to be true: There are few problems in life which cannot be solved with a suitable application of high explosives. Bear that in mind. And if I hear that "Not Craw... Craw!" joke one more time, someone's going to pay dearly for it!

Perhaps you recognize me. I can be seen on neighborhood watch signs around the country. It doesn't make me feel very welcome. I tell you, I don't get no respect. (pause) Of course these jokes are stolen -- what else did you expect?

I need a victim from the audience -- a lovely lady. You there, come to me. What is your name? (she responds) Is that the truth? You'd better be telling me the truth. Sit down. (he starts tying her)

I had a great master plan once. It was a brilliant plan, it would've worked. I would've made billions of dollars... I could have taken over the world! I had all the details worked out. But then my plan was stolen from me. It was stolen by the one man more diabolical, more purely evil than I. By now you probably realize that I am speaking of Bill Gates.

But it's my own fault, I suppose. I should've known something was up when he asked me if I really wanted to leave all those bugs in the software, and I told him I had to so I could keep the victims dependent on me.  (he gags her)

So after my great master plan failed, I was out of business. It was horrible going to the unemployment office. The gave me the form to fill out, and they asked what my previous job was and I wrote in "master criminal." And they told me they didn't have any openings for a master criminal, but they did have positions available in accounting, used car sales... and the Internal Revenue Service was looking for people like me. Naturally I declined. I may be morally bankrupt, but there are certain things even I wouldn't do.

I came up with a brilliant plan not long ago. I legally changed my name to "Resident." That way, if I'm ever caught breaking in a house, I can say I was looking for stolen mail that was addressed to me.

The other day as I was driving my getaway car, I saw a bumper sticker that said "Question Authority." And I thought "Who wrote that? And who are they to tell me what to do?"

I've had a tough life. My father was a master criminal too, The Masked Claw. It wasn't easy growing up with a father like that. When I was a child, my brother and I would stay up past our bedtime, tying up Barbie^(TM) dolls and practicing our evil laughs, and my father would call up from the bottom of the stairs: "Don't make me bring the Death Ray in there!"

I've never had an easy time with women either. Well, I don't have any trouble getting girls, but it seems like they always escape, or some square-jawed hero comes along and rescues them. And my mother, always asking when I'm going to get married and have little Claws. She says "Your father kidnaped me when he was only 25. When are you going to find some nice damsel to corrupt?" Is it any wonder I keep her locked up in the attic? Oh, don't look at me that way. You'd do the same thing if you had the chance. She keeps asking when I'm going to take a wife... Well, I did take a wife once, but I had to give her back. They paid the ransom.

Well, I'm at the end of my rope... and so is she. If you'll excuse me, I've got a date. (carries her off)