Sound Effects

Matt Lauer: Welcome back to the Today Show! It is 8:35 on Tuesday and I’m here with the legendary sound effects master Charles Sweeney. Although you may have not heard his name, you’ve certainly heard his work. Charles has provided sound effects for over 250 movies and has even won two Oscars for his work in “Legends of the Fall” and “There Will Be Blood”. His latest movie is called “Two Peas in a Pod” and opens this Friday. Charles, thank you for joining us this morning.

Charles Sweeney: Thank you, Matt. It’s great to be here.

Matt: Now you’ve managed to capture some of the most life-like sound effects in Hollywood. Tell us, how do you do it?

Charles: Well I begin by watching the raw footage and then discussing with the director what kind of sounds I think may really take the scene to the next level, you know, make the viewer feel like he or she is right there. Then I go about capturing my sounds.

Matt: Let’s talk about the capturing for a moment; can you give us some examples of where you go to get these incredible sounds?

Charles: Absolutely. There’s a particularly gripping scene from “Jurassic Park” when the heavyset computer hacker gets sprayed with the poison spit from the Dilophosaurus.

Matt: Oh yes, I know exactly the scene you’re talking about!

Charles: Well to create the sound of the creature I took a regular housecat and put it in a shoebox and then I shook the shoebox very forcefully.

Matt: (momentarily stunned) …you…shake a cat inside of a shoebox?

Charles: Exactly. I give it four or five really good shakes. And the sound was what you heard in the film. It was a perfect fit.

Matt: (presses a finger to his earpiece) I’m…um.... we’ve….

Charles: Then you may remember the exciting fight sequence from the Matrix: Reloaded, where Neo is battling 100 Agent Smiths? Well to capture the whooshing sound of the metal pole he is using as a weapon, I hit a giraffe on the knees with a frying pan.

Matt: My God…

Charles: The key is to sneak up on the giraffe while it’s eating from a very tall tree. The difference between a startling hit versus a hit they see coming is easily discernible. But the surprised and pained cry of the giraffe provided the perfect sound capture for the metal pole.

Matt: Mr. Sweeney I must stop you—

Charles: Then there’s the torpedo sounds from Pearl Harbor. Do you know how I got those?

Matt: Please stop. (looking off camera) Can we go to commercial?

Charles: (ignoring matt) I dressed a raccoon in a diaper and a baby’s bonnet and then got a group of my friends to point and laugh at it very degradingly, to damage the raccoon’s self esteem. It made this moaning sound that was absolutely perfect for the scene!

Matt: (looking into the camera) We’ll be right back with—

Charles: (talking over Matt) Please keep in mind I don’t kill any of these animals. That’s barbaric! I just rough them up a bit. I give them something to think about when they go home, you know?

Matt: Mr. Sweeney, that is reprehensible. (motioning off camera) Can we get security here please?

Charles: There was this one time I planted some drugs on a squirrel and then ratted him out to the cops. When they were grilling him in the interrogation room he made this sound that we used in a scene in Jane Eyre. You just have to have an ear for this kind of thing. I think that—

(Two burly security guards appear on screen, and wrestle Charles Sweeney out of his chair and remove his microphone as he struggles angrily)

Matt: I want to apologize to our viewers, and remind you that the statements of our guest do not reflect those of us at the Today Show. 

Charles: (off camera) Don't act all high and mighty! Your ears are thanking me! Hey, you're hurting my elbow!

Matt: Please stay tuned after these words from Purina Dog Chow. (looking off camera) Well that seems a little ironic.

A Haunting

            Recently I was sitting in my living room watching a marathon of “Murder, She Wrote” on the Hallmark channel when I heard a strange moaning coming from another room. I put down my crocheting needles and went to investigate. When I got to the other room I could not find the source, but now it sounded like the moaning was coming from the room I had just left! There was only one logical conclusion: there was a ventriloquist in my house and he was being a real douche. I was just about to walk back into the living room when a cold chill ran down my spine. I spun on my heels and there, hovering in front of me was a ghost! She looked to be a little girl, no more than eight years old. She looked at me with eyes as black as oil and said "What has been done must be undone. WHAT HAS BEEN DONE MUST BE UN....what are you doing? Stop that!"
           While she was chanting I had begun spraying a can of air freshener at her, in the hopes that maybe it was simply an odor cloud that happened to be shaped like a ghost. But it seemed only to annoy her, so I put it down and stared uncomfortably at my shoes. She continued, "You have one day to right what has been wronged. If you do not, I will inflict a pain upon you such as nothing you've-"

"Did you just pee?" I asked.

"What?"

"Did you just pee on the floor?" I pointed to a puddle that had formed under her.

"FOOL! That is ectoplasm! Do not dare interrupt me aga-HEY!"

I had begun running a shop-vac while she was talking to clean up the puddle, and just out of curiosity I had pointed it at her, sucking her leg into the hose. I tried to apologize, but in a look of fury she dissipated into thin air.

The next morning I awoke, thinking surely it must have been a dream. But when I walked into the bathroom and saw 'Redrum' scrawled on the mirror in lipstick, I knew that not only was I dealing with an unoriginal ghost, but she had also found my secret lipstick drawer, which could prove embarrassing down the road.

I did some research and learned that over 50 years ago a little girl had lived in my house and had died of polio. Why was she haunting me? Did she have unfinished business? I was so confused and dismayed that I ate a whole can of Pringles and took a nap.

I woke up hours later to see the little girl hovering above me.

"You!!" she said, "you have been sleeping?! You were warned!!" With that, she plunged her ghostly hand into my stomach and began yanking out my intestines. I howled in pain as she proceeded to wrap my intestines around my neck and choke me out with them. It occurred to me, in between periods of unconsciousness, that this girl must have watched some really messed R-rated movies or something, because where did she come up with this gory stuff?! It was seriously twisted. When I was seven I would never have thought to strangle a guy with his own intestines, I mean seriously.

It was then that I realized that she had been talking to me this entire time, shouting instructions. I managed to blurt out between chokings that I had been daydreaming and could she please repeat what she said, but she howled in rage and her hair burst into orange and red flames. At this point I did something I regret, which was I laughed a little bit, because her fire-hair was totally clashing with her outfit. I also wish I hadn’t said “SOMEbody needs a makeover,” because I think that’s what caused her to shoot locusts out of her eyes.

I was mentally calculating if there was enough room left in the shop vac for all these locusts when I realized they had all flown out the door and were terrorizing all of my neighbors.

“This is what you get for your disobedience!” the ghost said to me, and I must admit, I felt pretty bad about the whole situation. I had never wanted for my neighbors to get hurt because of this. Except Jerry. He borrowed my hedge trimmers and never returned them, so I was kind of glad the locusts got him. The ghost turned back to me and said “You have ONE more day!” and then vanished into thin air.

I looked down at my stomach. My intestines were back inside me! It was as if they’d never been pulled out in the first place! Except that my shirt was covered in blood. Really?? C’mon! That was my favorite shirt!

I didn’t know what to do. I considered seeing if they were still showing “Murder, She Wrote,” but in the end decided I’d better clear up this whole haunting business. I Googled and Googled for what felt like a good ten minutes, but I could not find anything to help me figure out how this young girl had been wronged. I racked my brain, trying desperately to remember any of the instructions she had given. I vaguely recalled something about a dresser....she couldn't mean that old chest of drawers upstairs, could she?

I must have lost track of time, or gotten distracted watching a video of a cat playing the bagpipes on YouTube, because before I knew it, it was the next morning. I made my way up the stairs to the room with the dresser in it. But as I entered the door, the entire house began to quake. I was too late!

I checked my watch, but the only thing on my wrist was a post-it note which read "Buy Watch". I looked up and saw my dirty socks on the floor transform into poisonous snakes and begin to slither toward me! The toilet from the bathroom began to overflow with lava! Spiders poured out from the closet, each holding a tiny pistol in one of their many legs! My dog entered the room on the CEILING and proceeded to do that butt-wiping scootch move that dogs do.

I fell to my knees and cried out "You MONSTER!! That's never going to come out!!"

A disembodied voice roared "this is your last chance!! Make the switch!" I dashed over to the dresser and pulled open the only drawer which wasnt brimming with blood. Inside was a little dolly, the kind of dolly a little girl would carry around. I snatched it up and just as I did, a Heavenly light shone down onto an identical drawer right next to the one I had opened.

"Do it! DO IT!!" she screamed. The house shook, the snakes hissed, the dog wiped. Frantically I opened the other drawer and threw the doll inside. Everything stopped. The spiders with guns vanished, along with the lava and the snakes. My dog fell on it's head. All had seemed to return to normal.

The next few weeks I spent recalling my experience with that ghastly ghoul, and thinking about how the reason for her haunting seemed wildly disproportionate to all of the terror she inflicted. I mean she killed all of my neighbors, not to mention the poop stains on the ceiling, and all because her dolly was in the wrong drawer. There really should be a ghost governing body that sets a haunt limit for situations like this. And that is why I am submitting this formal request for a loan from your bank to help start my ghost police squad. I am confident you will find my proposal satisfactory and me explanation of the need for 41 million dollars to build "Poltergeist Penitentiary" quite reasonable. I have every confidence that my first four letters were lost in the mail and I am excited to hear back from you soon.

Sincerely,

Andrew

Last Will and Testament

Good evening (part of my last wishes is for you to be reading this during the evening).

If you're reading this it means I have died. It also means you have misplaced my video will. Great job, numbskulls. I spent a lot of time practicing the dance routine at the beginning of that video and now nobody will ever see it. I kept telling myself "those groin reconstruction surgeries weren't for nothing, Andrew. As soon as the world sees your flying toe touches it'll all be worth it." But now you morons have ruined that.

I can only hope that I died in a really cool way. If I choked to death trying to do that magic trick where you pull the endless rope of handkerchiefs out of your mouth then I would kindly ask you to think up something else for my obituary. That's just embarrassing. I recommend telling people that I jumped on a live grenade that someone had thrown into a crowd of Boy Scouts, and in doing so I landed mouth first on a handkerchief rope, choking on it. But I saved those Boy Scouts.

First things first. In the seventh grade Nathan Morris asked me if he could have my GameBoy. I told him he would have to pry it from my cold dead hands. Well Nathan, I haven't forgotten our deal. I would like for special arrangements to be made with the mortician to put my GameBoy in my hands for Nathan to take during the open casket visitation. Make sure he gives me a good tight grip. I don't want Nathan to think I'm a sissy.

I have also contacted an engineering and hydraulics company to build a special rig for my body that will allow me to actually spin in my grave. It is operated by a remote control which I am leaving to my beautiful wife, so that when our children misbehave she can push it while muttering "your father is spinning in his grave right now." If you see guys in mechanic's jumpsuits fiddling around with my body during the service, do not worry. They are just attaching the hydraulics. It should also be noted that the same company is rigging a second device so that if anyone messes with my tombstone a different mechanism will send my clenched skeletal fist bursting up from the soil, hopefully giving off the impression that I'm rising from the grave and scaring off the would-be vandals.

As per family tradition, there will be several decoy graves planted in various places across the city. Please make sure to show the same amounts of remorse and sadness at each fake funeral as you do at the actual funeral.

To my lovely daughter Annabelle I bequeeth (did I spell that right? Is it bequethe? Again, I wish you hadn’t lost the video, because I just had to SAY the word. I didn’t have to worry about spelling it) my golf clubs, the tongues out of all my shoes, my array of evening gowns from my “Tranny-curious” phase, my prized “Jockstraps of the World” collection, and last but not least the key to my BMW. I know that is something you’ve always loved and will take great care of. To my son Melvin, I am leaving you the actual BMW itself. Whenever you feel like driving it just ask to borrow the key from your sister.

I want to take a moment to apologize to my family for never telling you about my secret second family. I imagine this must be an awkward first meeting for all of you today. I’m glad I’M not there...yikes. Likewise, I want to apologize to my secret third family for leading you guys to believe that you’ve been my secret second family all this time. I’m also sorry that I named every son Melvin and every daughter Annabelle, which likely makes my earlier Will stipulations confusing, but I’m confident you guys can tell which persons I intended those items for.

And finally we come to the part I know you’ve all gathered here for. I am confident you all are eager to find out to whom I am leaving my most prized possession, an object of my very own invention. I’m talking about, of course, my Fondue Maker/Doomsday Machine. All of you scoffed at me and laughed at the countless hours I spent in my basement lab constructing the device, but who was the one laughing when the FBI raided our home looking for it and I was able to convince them it was merely a harmless kit for melting cheese and chocolate? It was me! I was the one with my head thrown back, laughing maniacally, for being able to fool them! And it was only because of that laughter that the FBI agents, who I forgot were still in the room at the time, became suspicious and discovered the uranium dipping forks, subsequently confiscating the machine. So obviously none of you will be getting that bekweethed(?) to them.

So that’s it. Some of you may be asking yourselves “That’s it? Didn’t he have a house? What about the private jet he used to fly around? I thought there’d be more to give away than this.” Well I’m embarrassed to admit that I was sexting while flying one day and I crashed the jet into the house. They both were destroyed in the ensuing inferno, so they’re gone, I’m sorry to say.

I leave you with this advice, and I hope it guides each of you on your journeys: You would think the shower would be an excellent place to teach yourself how to moonwalk, when in fact, it's a terribly dangerous one. Please be careful. I love you all.

-Andrew

PS: In the event that I faked my own death and I’m still alive, I’m going to need my jockstrap collection back.