"Morty? Morty? Mmmmort?"
Pygmy skids to a grinding halt in the desert sands of Arabia, and suddenly realises the comedian's joke prop is nowhere to be seen.
CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT!!
The director gets out of his chair and walks onto the set, being careful not to upset the sand-dunes.
"Alright, where's the bird?"
"The bird, boss?" A buxom blond, falling out of a tight nurse's dress approaches the boss.
"Yeah, the bird, the one with the chicken feet and the beak that won't shut"
"Oh that... sorry boss, we have a problem"
"Spill it, Betty, and make it fast"
"Rubber mites".
"rubber... mice???"
"Mites, boss, he was crawling with 'em, the chicken wranglers refused to work with him, and brought him over to Props. The rubber was disintegrating, there were tears in the side seams. The comb was off again, and they had been having mechanical difficulties with the feet. We're working on pouring a new mold. But the prop department hasn't been able to find exactly the right mold. It was an unusual model - home-made-- an amalgam of recycled inner tube and shreds of cowboy hat".
"You don't say!"
"I'm sorry sir".
"Well then, I guess we're screwed."
The director throws down his hat and stomps off the lot.
