The River Story
Allow me to explain. My teacher, the dear Beast, drew a picture on the blackboard of a river, with two houses on one side, and two people on the other. One stick figure had clothing, the other did not. There was a rock in the middle of the river. In one house there was a mother of three who did not know how to swim; in the other there was an agorophobic champion swimmer. One stick figure falls in the river, the other runs away for some reason. Who saves the poor drowning stick figure? The Beast gave us one class period to come up with a story explaining it all. This is what I came up with.
Be afraid. Be very afraid.
The River Story
There they were, Bob and Zeke. Bob was an extremely hairy man, and was a little uncomfortable being the only one at Super Steve’s Nudist Camp who kept being told, “Please take off that fur coat, sir.” Zeke, however, was completely hairless because “wax is a boy’s best friend.” They had recently escaped Steve’s camp—Steve actually being a cult leader who wanted them to change their names to Zooquarpolyzixyav—and were running through the wide open plains of Wisconsin (or maybe Michigan, they weren’t sure) totally nude.After several days of running through the plains (and several more days running through a forest that had popped up mysteriously) Bob and Zeke came across the mighty Thames River. In an attempt to gain better relations with the United States, Britain had generously donated it to the Midwest. Anyway, there they were, Bob and Zeke, pondering on how to cross the mighty Thames.“I bet you can’t fly over it,” Bob taunted. He was secretly wishing that Zeke would jump in and hit his head on that protruding rock. He was sick of the hairless man curling up with him on those chilly Wisconsin/Michigan nights.“I bet you one Frosty at Wendy’s that I can,” Zeke replied.“Well then go.”“I have to prepare myself by naming all the United States backward in alphabetical order. Wyoming, Wisconsin—" Bob was sick of Zeke’s shit. He pushed Zeke into the Thames and ran off into the forest singing Sir Mix-A-Lot’s “Baby Got Back” at the top of his lungs.Zeke managed to swim his way to that protruding rock (which up close appeared to be metamorphic in nature) and climbed on. He couldn’t fight the current to make it back to shore, and he was not going back in that icy water. Zeke had shrinkage issues. “Help!” he screamed, noticing some primitive mobile homes on the opposite shore. “Ayuda!” he screamed in Spanish, in case they were Venezuelan. “M’aide!” he screamed in French in case they were from the Cirque de Soleil. He saw the face of a (maybe) woman (as one can never be sure in Wisconshimagan) and he winked at her. She flipped him off British-style—as it was the Thames River—but then motioned that she would be right out. He gave her the “okay” sign.When she did come outside half an hour later, she brought her children with her—a set of twenty-one month old triplets. Zeke rolled his eyes. What could mere infants do to save him, the Hairless Wonder?The mother spoke softly to her children, and then they linked hands and formed a human kite. Zeke stared in awe as the babies flew over him; one lowered its tail and he grabbed it; they carried him to shore. “Thank you so much, madam! How could they do that?” he asked shivering.The mother replied, “We are from the Cirque de Soleil,” in heavily accented English. Zeke nodded knowingly. “Would you mind covering yourself, monsieur? My children may be traumatized by your…member.” Zeke sheepishly covered himself with his hat. (Zeke forgot to mention he was wearing a fishing hat.) The mother—whose named was Bjork Bodine—led Zeke into her rustic mobile home. Zeke asked who lived in the other trailer. “Oh, that is just Monsieur Mathers. He doesn’t go out much anymore.”“Mathers? As in Marshall Mathers?” Zeke had noticed a large backwards letter E spray-painted on the other trailer while he was gripping to the metamorphic rock for dear life. Bjork nodded. “Didn’t he hear me calling for help?"“Yo, foo’, I don’t go outside for nobody anymore. It’s a whack, whack world out there, fo’ shizzle,” he heard Eminem say. Zeke saw an intercom mounted on the wall. “Yeah, it’s true, I be the dopest rapper/swimming champion out there, but I don’t wanna end up like no Tupac, G.”Zeke spent the night pondering why the one triplet had a tail.The next day, Zeke heard a knock at the door. He opened it wearing only his fishing hat. There stood Bob, tears in his eyes. “What do you want Bob?” Zeke asked, crossing his arms over his chest (which meant that the hat dropped to the floor.“I’m sorry I pushed you in the river. I came here to tell you—oh, god, this is so difficult—Zeke, I love—"“Wait, how’d you get across?” Bob pointed to the bridge in clear view about thirty-seven feet down the river from Eminem’s trailer. “Oh.”“Zeke, I love y—"“Ooh, look, a penny!” Zeke bent down to pick up the shiny coin and accidentally bumped Bob, sending him down the bank and into the river. As Zeke was admiring his new discovery, Bob was weighed down by his massive amounts of body hair and drowned. Later on Zeke joined the Cirque de Soleil as the “Splendiferous Hairless Man.”And that is the tale of how the Thames River coughed up a hairball.
I told you it was special.
Fizzle Bizzle, fo' shizzle
