Wizard of a Small Insignificant Country Slightly to the East of Oz - Part X^2
Sep 10 '01
The Bottom Line Don't hit small animals. Always have extra gas while driving. Watch yourself in construction zones. Don't drive in the spiral.
Author's Note: This is the X in a series of epinions that offer you a continuous story line and helpful product knowledge along the way.
Rachel screeched to a dead halt. That is not say, that during breaking process of her car, she passed to the judgment place of her religious beliefs. She was sure that whatever her bumper had the uncanny acquaintance hitting did in fact pass to the judgment place of its religious beliefs. She was relatively sure that after hours of endless rerouting by construction she had somehow fallen asleep at the wheel and ended the life of some poor helpless individual. She did what almost any ordinary person would do in a crisis situation that may result in his or her own incarceration, hit the accelerator and convince herself that it was just a speed bump.
However little to her knowledge or to the knowledge of her passengers, who were asleep, a few witnesses of unusually small height viewed the entire incident from the side of the road.
“Hail, to license plate number 526-LHT, wicked poodle is dead!” One of usually small witnesses exclaimed.
“You always say that every time some one runs over the wicked poodle.” The other said.
“Besides it’s not like she won’t be back.” The third added.
“Yeah, but that gal from Kansas in the double wide mobile home seemed to like it when I said that.” The first one defended.
However little to the knowledge of the unusually small witnesses, the wicked poodle reformed the amorphous road kill of her body into its former glory of a French poodle. She had also witnessed the witnesses’ conversation and wrote down the license plate number of Rachel’s car before scampering into the underbrush.
However little to her knowledge a random person named Bob, who doesn’t even appear in this book, had witnessed everything. Bob scratched his head, pondered for a moment on how a French poodle was able to write in the first place, and decided to go see what was on television.
Bonus Park X!
Rachel screeched to a dead halt. To many readers, this sentence can have many explanations since it was the exact same opening sentence of the last chapter. One such explanation that might have been a misprint. ‘It probably happens to the most prolific writers.’ The reader could say and sweep the sentence under the table, making no acknowledgement of that sentence’s existence.
That is exactly what the government wants you to think because encoded within that sentence is another sentence, ‘The government is using mind control on you.’ The author used the sentence twice just to make sure the reader got the message. The reader, who is outraged by the government’s use of mind control, writes a strongly worded letter to Congress. Three days later both the reader and the author commit suicide by ingesting all their household chemicals.
That is not the real explanation for the sentence; if you can read this, the government is making me drink my bathroom cleanser. One also might conjecture that the dual nature of the opening sentence of chapters X and X is due a national conspiracy of publishers who just fill the middle of the book with repeating garbage because no one really reads that far anyway. The author would like to stress that his work is not repeating and that they are making me go for the Drano now, help!
The real reason for the sentence, according to a press release from the author, was simply because Rachel screeched to a dead halt for the second time that day and he wanted to move on with story rather be bogged down with interpretations of a sentence.
Rachel turned to Damien and poked him until he awakened from a deep slumber. Both stared in bewilderment at the town around them. Everything from the buildings, cars, and street performers were of usually small height. “I don’t think we are in Albuquerque anymore.” Damien exclaimed.
At this point in the narrative the author would like to stress that the printed words of this book should now be in a wide variety of colors rather then black and white. However due to a cost effective management decision, a silly note about colorful words would save the publisher more money and give the reader creative control to imagine the what colors they choose for the remainder of the book. The publisher and the author would also like to disclaim that is not a valid reason for using psycodelic drugs.
“I knew I couldn’t trust the commission, these houses should have been cleared days ago.” John Francis III commented.
“Why would you want to destroy these houses? They are a marvel!” Damien pondered.
“Because they are in the way of the interstate construction you fool.” John growled.
“Apparently there is a lot didn’t know.” Damien said.
“Well let’s not dwell on that now. The car is almost out of gas. Let’s get out and talk to one of the natives.” Rachel interjected.
As they exited the car Damien told Rachel, “You know I’ve never talked to midget in my life, much less a whole town of midgets but I really think we should worry about getting gas so we can get the hell out of here.”
“I wouldn’t use that word if I were you.” A small gruff person of unusual size stated.
“What? Hell? It a pretty common swear word. I don’t think it really offends anyone anymore.” Damien retorted.
Damien had little knowledge that he summed up the conflict of this entire village. Often people assigned with menial jobs such as public relations, out of spite for being assigned a menial job, would downplay the use of the possibly offensive material. A public relations agent often substitute words such as black man and white man with politically correct words like African American and Jewish, Polish, English, Irish, German, Plus a Two Percent European Mix American in effort to prevent an outraged public. What the public relations agent fails to realize is that the public outrages are almost unavoidable because they will outrage over just about anything like for instance a spilled cup of coffee.
Due to the public outrages over the use of politically correct terms, the frivolous lawsuit was invented as a way of quelling the majority of the public. This helped the corporations filter the general public scorn to only those angered that had enough time and money to pursue their anger. The village of unusually sized people was one such place. The citizens where sick of all the titles, such as “midget, munchkin, short person, and look at that cute little boy driving his power wheels.” After a long drawn out lawsuit against MGM, which the jury decided in the people of unusual sizes favor due to the testimony of that cute little boy, the whole township was granted the rights to receive large cash settlements to anyone who used terms deemed offensive to the township. After the township deemed every word in the Oxford English Dictionary offensive, the case was struck down and no one dared using offensive names ever since, at least until Damien arrived.
“No the word midget.” The person of unusual size replied. “Let’s just say you won’t make much friends here slinging words like that around.”
Damien said, “If I wanted to make munchkin friends I would have-“
“What he means to say,” Rachel cut him off, “is that we are lost and looking for the nearest gas station.”
“Unfortunately, all the gas stations in these parts won’t fuel your car.” The person answered.
“I knew gas prices that were half off were to good to be true.” Damien smirked and then winced as Rachel politely kicked him.
“The nearest gas station, owned by some guy who calls himself the wizard, is at the Lovely Shade of Green City.” The person continued.
“Lovely shade of green?” Damien asked.
“Don’t bother.” The person replied. “It’s a long story. Just take the yellow road that begins in a spiral pattern. It’s the only road in town that exits so it’s kind of hard to miss.”
“Thank you. Let’s go boys.” Rachel stepped towards the car.
Not a single person in the group of travelers realized they had driven into a plot hole. A ‘plot hole’ is defined as flaw within the logic of the book. Since almost every page of this book had a skewed and warped sense of logic, the publishers fired all the continuity editors which would have cost the about as much as a fast food restaurant pays for spilling coffee on drive through customers lap. Besides, no one seemed to notice that the yellow road couldn’t have been the only road to exit the city because they had to drive into the city somehow, except for the outraged public.
As they started in the center of the spiraling road that would eventually lead them out of the town John mused, “No wonder why we wanted to blaze through this town to build a highway. They can’t build a roads worth anything.”
“You mean you where going to evict all these people without even visiting here first?” Damien inquired.
“How else do you think public officials make decisions that will ruin the lives of people? By having a conscious? You have a lot to learn about politics. We would never move forward if we worried about pleasing everybody.“ John defended himself.
“Speaking of forward, “ Damien decided to switch the subject, “why are we driving in this spiral when we could just go strait to the end of it?”
“Good point.” Rachel said as they drove out of the town. Call poison control, they are making me drink the dish detergent now!
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Member: Aaron Frale
Location: Albuquerque, New Mexico
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About Me:
A comedy writer
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