Beyond Thunder Dome
Alligator Man is the champion and he must be defeated. Down the ramp of his semi-truck palace, he is fought. Is this life and death, or just a show? The pyrotechnics would prove the latter, as would the cocktail waitresses. Then again, Rome wasn't built in a day. Their arena is a Wal-Mart airport.
A chorus of deralects sing "Bastards of Youn" atop giant eliptical bicycle equipment. They only know the chorus. It's karaoke night in paradise again.
Victor Hugo's Bidet
In the Court of Miracles, I deliver a symposium on the sewer system of post-revolutionary France. After my lecture, I accompany a young lady to the casino floor. The Court of Miracles is located on the upper-most floor of a Las Vegas building. I don't remember anything after that.
Incontestable Rape
I'm standing stage right of a Fleetwood Mac gig, circa 1974. Mick Fleetwood, Lindsay Buckingham, and Christine McVie come out and start a groove. This I can enjoy. Stevie Nicks comes dancing out of stage left in a small, black and white striped dress. She approaches the mic. She is small and supple. She begins to sing. This cannot stand. I charge her at full force and tackle her to the ground. I must make her pay for this awful offense, the only way I know how. Flipping her over, I hold her head down and pull her little dress up over her ass. She isn't wearing panties, so I unzip and start to teach her a lesson. I sit the mircrophone next to my act of discipline and keep her head forward toward the monitor so she alone can hear her screaming. Her face buried into the stage, her cries falling to no one, I fuck Stevie Nicks for trespasses against decent rock and roll everywhere.
Prince's Harem Dance Party
I am at work at the Home Depot, helping a co-worker, Kerry, put away lights. We are casually chatting while doing so. Around the corner comes the electrical department head, Tator. He has a clipboard in his hands and he looks upset. My co-worker and I wonder aloud what could be bothering him.
"Ya'll sons-a-bitches didn't do your gad-damn In Focus yet!" he says. "Now we won't meet the monthly requirement!"
We both know good and well that we completed this online class at the first of the month. But before we have a chance to quiet Tator's mind, he storms off in a fluster. Discontent with this false accusation set upon us, Kerry and I follow him into aisle 43. We round the corner, not finding Tator, but a darkened, velvet curtain-lined hall leading to a small, dark wooden door. The door is against the right side of the hall. We understand what we must do in order to gain entry. Kerry produces a small brown paper bag from his apron and knocks on the door. It creaks open about a foot, and Prince sticks out his head.
"What'ch yall want?" he asks suspiciously.
Kerry hands him the brown paper bag and Prince inspects the contents. His eyes light up. The door slams shut, and we hear Prince devour the dark chocolate-covered raspberries like a koala bear. The door opens again, this time bidding us entrance. Kerry and I enter into Prince's chambers. The revolving love-seats are filled with beautiful women, the silk drapes flow miraculously, and the disco lights invite an evening of debauchery. "I Would Die 4 U" is playing.
A Cartoon Eskimo
My grandfather is leading a parade down a street in Springfield during an episode of The Simpsons. It is September. He is not amused.
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