"Please, Officer Shtupme"

Action:
Behind me Sergeant Shtupme
please reach around your hand,
I’m beggin’ you, and cup me,
I’ll be at your command.
I feel you feel my monkey
and if I had the spunk,
Golly Moses, I’d drag you to the bunk!

All:
See, Officer Shtupme, a uniform gets
him goin’ when it garbs a gal – it must be epaulettes!
In fantasies frequent
he’s sharin’ my wood …
deep down inside you must be good.

Action: Must be good!

All:
Where’s his wood? Spare his wood!
His baton-rapped wood …
like John Courgar’s make it hurt so good.

Snowboy: (spoken) That’s a crushin’ wood story.

Action: (spoken) Lemme tell it to the world.

Snowboy: (spoken) Just tell it to the judge.

Action:
I find, dear Judge, I wanna
watch Sergeant Shtupme slough
her togs like an iguana
’til she’s standin’ in the buff.
Like meter-readin’ Rita,
liveried with ticket pad …
leapin’ lizards, Shtupme drives me mad.

Diesel: (as Judge) Right!
Officer Shtupme, you must be aware
those melon-mounted medals a boy’s notice will snare.
With penile ptosis
from lust this one’s curbed
he’s spike-ologic’ly disturbed.

Action: I’m disturbed!

All:
He’s perturbed and disturbed
’cause of lust he’s curbed,
like he’s spike-ologic’ly disturbed.

Diesel: (spoken, as Judge) In the opinion of this court, this child is depraved on account he ain’t had a normal bone.

Action: (spoken) Hey, I’m depraved on account I’m deprived!

Diesel: (spoken, as Judge) So take him to a headshrinker.

Action:
My ma is a drill master
whose men say “Yessiree,”
and no one dares to sass her
(especially not me),
while daddy’s only privates
shrivel up in civvy dress …
Goodness gracious, that’s why I’m a mess.

A-rab: (as Psychiatrist) Ja!
Ach! Polizist Shtupme, ist choo das ist “prob.”
Ziss kitt, ’ee chust neetz eine kleine han-chob!
Zo ficken Sie ihm mit dein Faust (das heißt, “wank”)
sonst zoshullogic’ly ’ee’s krank!**

Action: Am I sick!?!

All:
Yes, you’re sick, flaccid d*ck,
but you’ll straighten out quick
if Shtupme the flic gives it a flick.

A-rab: (spoken, as Psychiatrist) I am zinkin’ das ziss kinder dun’t neet ’iss head shrunk no vay … ziss choovenile'ss wiener shrinkage, zee, iss chust iss zoshull dis-eece.

Action: (spoken) Hey, I got a social disease!

A-Rab: (spoken, Psychiatrist) Zo take ihm auf ein zoshull vorker!

Action:
Assigned me, social worker,
to cure me by hand-f*ck,
Sergeant Shtupme is a shirker,
she just says “Good luck.”
Oh, how can she say “No,” she’ll
not give me a jerk?
Gloriosky! She should think it’s a perk!

Baby John: (as Social Worker) Eek!
Officer Shtupme, you simply must ken
that only you can teach this boy to … “write with his pen.”
It’s simply a matter of untutored wood --
deep down inside you he’d be good.

Action: (spoken) I’d be good!

All:
He’d have wood as he should
and he’d feel so good
like, about himself he would feel good.

Diesel: (as Judge) He only needs a lay, see?

A-Rab: (as Psychatrist) Vich Shtupme knohss, I zink!

Baby John: (as Social Worker) And a word or two of praise, see?

Diesel: He doesn’t need a shrink, ...

A-Rab: ... just some sex’d have him glowing ...

Baby John: … If it’s Shtupme that he’s “knowing.”


All:
Shtupme, he’s got trouble with his bone.
Please, Officer Shtupme,
give Action a squeeze
he’s got a little problem some hand motion’ll ease.
See, Officer Shtupme,
if you help him spew,
he, Officer Shtupme
(will) stup you.