Snoop Doggy Dog Orders New Jack Crabs

by A Candy-Colored Clown They Call the Sandman

I awoke in the early light of dawn to see a silhouette of two small figures dangling from my rotating ceiling fan. Upon closer inspection, I noticed a miniature Marcia Clarke dressed in a leather and spiked bondage outfit whipping Snoop Doggy Dog. I told them to keep it down so I could sleep, but Snoop Doggy Dog glared at me, opened his mouth, and launched into an angry rap in German. I then plugged my ears with leftover chunks of Dinty Moore Beef Stew from last night's dinner and returned to sleep. I was reawakened several hours later by a frantic Charlie, (the piece of lint living next to the water glass on my nightstand) exclaiming that Tommy Newsome, the occassional bandleader from the Johnny Carson era Tonight Show, was about to dump massive quantities of Pine-Sol into the San Francisco water supply. I raced to the phone and called the operator to assist me in alerting the proper authorities, but instead of the reassuring, nasally, cold, detached drone of a switchboard jockey, I heard a muffled, megaphone-like teen- aged voice repeatedly asking, "Welcome to Jack-In-The-Box, would you like to try our new Jack-Crabs?" I slammed the receiver down and began sobbing hysterically.

The staff took some of us on a "field trip" today to a local mall. Almost moments after entering through the main doors, I was assaulted by the multi- culturally correct gang of Benetton Kids. As I was fighting them off, Christopher Lambert showed up with his sword used in 'Highlander', and systematically beheaded the children. I thanked him profusely, and ran to catch up with the rest of the group as they entered Sears. I asked the manager of the Craftsman Tool department if there was an appliance available which would facilitate catheter insertion into rodents. My nurse, Camilia, prodded me along, and as I passed a handsome mannequin in the men's suit department, all of his limbs and appendages fell to the floor simultaneously, leaving only an anatomically correct torso supported by stumpy, bleeding calves.

After developing a new facial tic in Sharper Image, it was lunchtime. Our creative hospital staff decided on McDonald's. A large South American Green Iguana took my order of a Big Mac, small fries, large Coke, and an apple pie. But instead, a tray with a covered silver platter was placed in front of me. I cautiously peered under the lid and shrieked in horror when I saw a two-foot long stark naked Curly from The Three Stooges, kneeling on a bed of romaine lettuce with his buttocks raised in the air, and a medium red delicious apple stuffed into his mouth. He pulled the apple out of his mouth, looked up at me with a malevolent grin, and chirped, "Why soitonly!" I ran out of the restaurant before Camilia could detain me, and found myself in front of a Mrs. Fields cookie stand. Cindy Crawford stood behind the counter wearing a red and white striped uniform. She made me vaguely uneasy, and I didn't realize why until I noticed that the mole on her face was undulating and circling her face counter- clockwise. I ran past and almost knocked over a display of shoes at Foot Locker. I entered the store and was besieged by three perky employees wearing referee uniforms. I told them I was looking for the Nike cross-trainer worn by Ernest Borgnine--the Air Ernest. The befuddled clerks slunk away, so I shrugged my shoulders and turned to leave, but was immediately tackled to the ground by a security guard with Arnold Schwarzenegger's body and Woody Allen's head. Shortly before losing consciousness, I heard Woody/Arnold say, "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your gynecologist."

"A CANDY-COLORED CLOWN THEY CALL THE SANDMAN"

[Writers] [Birdhouse]