Boy, is Wonder Woman
ever going to be mad when she finds out you lied about a young William Shatner having been on the plane! Since facing consequences has been
something you've successfully avoided for… well, ever, you high tail it
into the jungle. Hopefully, she'll have more on her mind than tracking
you down, but if not, at least you'll have a head start.
It's a lot easier going than you would have imagined. For all the
birdcalls and monkey hooting, the jungle isn't particularly dense. In
fact, it looks almost… manicured. More like a jungle movie set than the
real jungles you've seen on The Discovery Channel and the Learning Channel and the Lonely Ass Shut In Fag Channel.
Stranger still, you soon stumble across a trail sign.
Say, Wonder Woman must
have been wrong! This isn't her Paradise Island after all; it is the
place you were headed for! But, how could she have been wrong? Doesn't
she know where she lives? And besides, isn't she pretty much fictional?
Sure Lynda Carter is real, but Wonder Woman was just a role she played.
You're just about to become real confused by all the confusing things
you just thought about, when a hippie comes barreling out of the woods
and smacks right into you!
"Oh, man, oh, man, I gotta get out of here!" he cries, pushing his long,
lank hair out of his eyes. "Get out of my way, man, he's right behind
me!"
He looks naggingly
familiar, although he seems slightly wrong. The long hair, the hippy
headband, seem somewhat out of place. As he ducks and weaves trying to
get past you, you keep repositioning to keep him in view. It's right on
the tip of your tongue who this guy is.
"WILL YOU GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY?! HE'S GONNA WISH ME INTO THE
CORNFIELD, OR WORSE!" The hippie screams, and bolts around you.
He doesn't get far, though. Stopping suddenly, he jerks up into the air
and just hangs there a moment. He begins to whip back and forth six feet
above the ground, as if he were a person sized rat being shaken by an
immense, invisible terrier. Wow! What an image you think! You drift into
a reverie about what your life would have been like if you'd ever
written that really good book you'd meant to and it had gone on to be a
huge best seller and you were on Letterman. Just as you're about to read
the Top Ten List you are shaken out of your day dream by the
unmistakable sound of a hippie exploding, shortly after which your are
drenched in pureed hippie. Which is plenty odd enough even before all
the gore evaporates into a fine pink mist and then disappears, leaving
only the faint smell of… corn.
You hear a rustling in the underbrush, whip around and for an instant
you think you spy the black and white face of a surly little boy
disappearing into the shadows.
And then it hits you. The Hippie! It was Billy Mumy, circa 1972, as Teft
in the classic Stanley Kramer three tissue box weeper, "Bless the Beasts
and the Children".
