¶ 1999-08-06 23:30:00 +0000
I figure anyone can write a good fable, so I thought I might take a crack at it. Enjoy!
Once upon a time, in the far away land of Tucson, Arizona, lived a wealthy land owner by the name of Mr. Gimmelmore. Although he had everything he ever wanted, Mr. Gimmelmore was as greedy as the pigeons in New York City. He always wanted more money, more land, or more peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch. He could never be satisfied (he had obviously never discovered Snickers).
One day, Mr. G. heard of a rumor that a certain Ms. Spickenspan could turn mint flavored dental floss into gold thread just by running it between her teeth! He also heard that the same Ms. Spickenspan could turn cinnamon flavored floss into hemp twine and make hip jewelry! Mr. Gimmelmore wanted to be cool and wear hemp jewelry, so he extended an invitation to Ms. S. to visit his lovely summer home in South Dakota.
“Have you any idea how cold it gets up there?” replied Ms. Spickenspan. “I would never dream of spending a week up in the Badlands!”
So instead, Mr. Gimmelmore threw a big party on his ranch in Tucson, and the mysterious Ms. Spickenspan just happened to get invited. Now (because she crafted fine jewelry), Ms. S. was cool enough to never miss a groovy party, and everyone knew that Mr. Gimmelmoreʼs parties were the grooviest.
Much to her surprise, when she rang the doorbell, she was conducted into an underground laboratory (by a man not unlike Lurch), where she was locked in. Then, through a public address speaker built into the wall, she heard mr. Gimmelmoreʼs voice.
“Look in the cabinet behind you. Inside are several dozen rolls of cinnamon flavored dental floss. If you wish to leave, you must turn all of it into hemp twine by morning. Have a nice night!” This monologue was followed by maniacal laughter that only an insane and evil scientist is capable of (Mwu-ha-ha-ha!).
Of course, all those rumors were vicious lies, and Ms. Spickenspan couldnʼt really turn floss into hemp, so she just sat and began to file her nails. Suddenly, a panel turned in the wall, and a short (pardon me, “vertically challenged”) man stepped into the room.
“I see you are in a bit of a fix,” said the man. “I believe I may be able to help you. You see, I can turn floss into hemp!”
By this time, Ms. Spickenspan, mildly terrified by the appearance of the strange character, had drifted to the far wall. “C-c-could you?” was all she was able to say.
“But of course,” replied the man. “For a price.”
“H-h-how about my laptop computer?” blurted Ms. S. “Itʼs a top of the line model, with a 400 Mhz processor, 128 MB of RAM, and built in DVD and Zip drives.”
“That sounds like a deal to me. Let me get to work now.” With that, the goblin-like fellow took the first roll of floss and pulled it through his mouth. Sure enough, it came in cinnamon floss and came out sturdy hemp twine, ready to be knotted and beaded and sold for outrageous prices.
With the goblin-man busy at work, Ms. Spickenspan inched along the wall until she came to the spot where he had first appeared. She pushed against the wall and felt it give. Silently, she crawled into a narrow tunnel and closed the secret door. She felt something under her. She looked down to find an acetylene torch and welderʼs face shield. She quickly sealed the entrance to the laboratory, and began to crawl through the passages. Mr. Floss-to-hemp was too busy singing “Yellow Submarine” to himself to notice anything.
Ms. Spickenspan finally crawled into the main sewer area and found a man hole, which she climbed out of. Miraculously, her car was parked only a few dozen feet away! She got in a drove off into the sunset.
Moral: Donʼt tell nasty vicious lies and rumors about people you donʼt know. They could result in poor unsuspecting goblin-men to be trapped in underground laboratories, turning dental floss into hemp for all time. Also, next time you consider spreading a rumor, just think about where that hemp necklace around your neck has been. By the way, the goblin-manʼs name was Jack.
This article was written with one purpose in mind: to put a smile on a face of each of its many readers. If I have not done so, please inform me, and I will work my hardest to remedy the situation.
6 August 1999, William Andrew Jackson