Sunday, July 27, 2008

Those Poor Unfortunate Souls

If there is a Hell, and if you're walking past its gates on your way to the pearly ones, peek inside. Bet me fifty bucks there isn't a big ol' ferris wheel smack dab in the middle of it.

Last night I went to the Mid State Fair in Paso Robles, California. "God's country" my lily white buttocks. $15 to park. $8 to get in. Corn dogs are $4.50. And if you must know, the VitaMix is up to $449 this year. DON'T ask me how I know.

The fair is, I think, a sort of clearing house for the future residents of Hell. The devil roams the grounds, taking notes and snapping a few photos with his BlackBerry. Later, he'll run them past The Master, and I'm pretty sure Bill Gates. And come time, some poor unfortunate soul will arrive at Will Call. His picture, contact information, and resume will already be in the database. All he'll need to do is show an acceptable form of ID. The name on his hand-carved leather belt should do it.

"Our records indicate you took your two-year-old son to the fair after 10 pm. Is this correct?" the gatekeeper will ask. "And your wife was pregnant at the time, is that right?" You bought them both deep-fried Twinkies. Correction, your son got the Twinkie, your wife had a deep fried Snickers, correct me if I'm wrong. Had you been drinking? Beer perhaps? Wasn't the money you spent on beer, deep-fried foods and attempts to shoot the star out of the center of a wiggling piece of paper with a shot-worn BB gun supposed to be money you were saving for your next tattoo? I thought as much." {~stamp~} "Approved!"

"I apologize for the third degree. Most of our applicants would not have bothered to feed their wife and child. You have to admit it seems suspicious, what with all the opportunities to terrify your child and humiliate your wife within such easy reach. Instead you chose to, I can't even say it, nourish them. Yet under all these suspicious circumstances I am forced to allow you to enter. There's a note in your file from Bill Clinton saying you voted for him and he feels he owes you. Go on in. The flavored margarita stand is off to the left, and the knock-off Oakley sunglasses are straight ahead. Dinner tonight is churros. Remember to get your hand stamped if you leave and want to re-enter."

"Next! It says here you WORKED in the carnival industry...on and off...since you dropped out of the sixth grade. {~stamp~} "Approved!"

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