The Singapore airlines flight, she is boarding.
The clowns make it out to the gate while the plane is still sitting right there at the end of the jetway. They ask if it's sold out. "The flight is available," the lady tells them, "but due to security reasons, we cannot accept passengers in the last minute." They beg with as much dignity as they can, but while an agent may be able to fudge availability of seats or even holding a plane for five minutes, she's not going to be able to do much on the security business unless she wants to lose her job. She excuses herself and walks away. The plane takes off. Al rubs his eyes. "It's done," he voices over. Legions of fans rub the bellies of their little Van Munster dolls, hoping that the excruciating fourth-place finish is not to be repeated. NOT.
Commercials. I maintain that the commercial with the "Mom In Spinning Class" hieroglyphic is not funny at all. It's the kind of thing that someone decides will seem funny in a commercial, even though he doesn't even think it's funny himself, and then the next thing you know, they're shooting the commercial and everybody wants to know who it was who thought this was funny, and no one remembers.
The clowns are, as they admit, "stressed, big-time." As he walks down the hall pushing a luggage cart, ClownJon says, "I'm about to explode, man, I feel the blood goin' right ta my head." He says it in this frustrated but determined voice that seems like it might be what the Little Engine That Could would sound like, if it were from New York. Adorably -- painfully adorably, really -- he has donned the red clown nose again. It's such a little thing, really, that he'd do that just to walk down the hallways of the airport, but it's extremely telling about what kind of a guy he is. It's so hammy, but...when you're a ham, you might as well be fully salted, if you know what I mean. At least, that's the theory I'm gambling on at this point in my own life. After giving a reminder of exactly how they came to be so screwed, the clowns stand at a kiosk and check out flights, eventually locating a direct flight from Seoul to Brisbane. At the counter, they're told that they can get tickets. Al says as they walk to the gate that they'll just have to cross their fingers and hope that somebody else has trouble with their flights.
And now, it's time for ClownJon and Al to recharge their batteries. ClownJon puts the nose back on and starts entertaining the crowd at one of the ticket counters. He balances a pair of glasses on his nose. Man, I hated that the first time I saw him do it, and now, it makes me all sniffly. A nice lady in line comes over and half-nervously asks where they're from. "New York," they say happily. She smiles. Next thing you know, the clowns are running a vaudeville routine for the camera. "Hey -- hey Al!" ClownJon says. "What, what?" Al responds, nonchalantly sipping on his water bottle. "Why did the chicken cross the road?" ClownJon says. Al: "Why did the -- I don't know, why did the chicken cross the road?" ClownJon: "To get on Korean Airlines." With this, Al executes a perfect, flamboyant spit-take that showers ClownJon but good, all over the face. Seriously, spit-takes are not easy, people. It takes grace, balance, timing, and panache. "They say laughter is the best medicine," Al says. "At least for us, it truly is." As ClownJon stands all spit-sprayed, Al laughs, "That was a good one." Indeed it was. Later, their direct flight finally takes off. Drums pound maniacally as The Amazing Yellow Lines on The Amazing World Map apprehensively remind you that three teams went through Singapore, and that the clowns took off much, much later, but at least flew direct.