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Guide to Hippiedom

    The first thing I noticed about Anita's parents, of course, were the creepy little ferrets that lived on them.

    "Just like cats," said Jim.

    "Just like 'em," said Patrice.

    So I bore with them and struggled not to hold my nose or gag or die or anything. Jim and Patrice thought the writhing little weasels on them were sentient. I thought they were wasting fabric. Anita was taking forever. Anita was just getting changed for the party tonight. You could tell she had her closet open because she had to move her bed back and that cause the trailer to tilt to one side.

    "They like you," said Jim.

    "Like you," said Patrice.

    Jerry Springer had prepped me for this. I had come armed with rock hard stoicism and smelling salts, but nothing could prepare me for Trailer Hippies. They aren't real hippies of course. They don't protest war. They appreciate money. They don southern accents.

    I wasn't aware people still chewed tobacco, but there Jim was in his mullet and Brewer's Construction shirt, spitting into a Folger's can. Patrice had sprayed her non sequitar red hair into a five inch high bug trap on her head, which made her slightly resemble her husband only small and shriveled instead of jiggling with beer. Ferrets frighten me.

    Anita finally made her way out of her bedroom, the trailer centered back to normal. She was wearing pretty average clothes, not much to say there except for her excessive use of eyeliner. I didn't mind, I was rocking a Gwen Stefani look. If anything, I was the embarrassment. On our way out, a ferret relieved itself on Anita's shoe. I didn't say anything. I was becoming deathly afraid of ferrets.

   The party was pretty standard. The Doritos flowed like ambrosia. I've never eaten so many Doritos in my life. Anita ate a lot of marshmallows, unaware that there was dried ferret urine on her shoe. I stayed away from Anita and her shoes. In fact, the party was pretty mundane. I left early. We live in a pretty small town, so I thought it fit to walk home on such a clear night.  

    I walked, whistling, along the side of a corn field. Every horror movie that ever started out like this popped into my head. There was a bizarre temptation to run into the corn field and never come out. Just live among the corn. It sounds odd when I describe it like that, but it made sense at the time.

    In the middle of the bombardment by these odd thoughts, I never noticed the truck come up slowly behind me. Lights flashed and a horn honked. It was trying to get me to go over to it. I started to run from the truck, nervous after hearing these situations on Unsolved Mysteries with that guy who always wears a trench coat.

    "Mona! It's us!" Yelled a familiar voice from behind me. I turned and shaded my eyes from the bright lights. It was Anita and her parents, who grinned almost rabidly at me. And they were covered in ferrets. I find it hard to believe that the ferrets are a separate entity from Anita's parents.