AVANT SOUL

Typhoons of Missed Distraction

"Yes, Madame Shrub, what is it?" asked Dickery Dude.

"Dickery," replied Shrub, "We have discovered terrible typhoons in the National Forest. We must protect the American Pubneck! Oh dire warning, fierce, fierce, fierce, typhoons are hiding, I am so pierced."

"You are a great patron and pastry-noodle Ameritune," pronounced Dickery.

"Yahootles," said Dickery Due. "This is of serious grave consequittles. Our intelligence says it is a purple pink orange spotted alert!"

"Purple pink spotted orange alert, indeed," said Madame.

"Mercy," gulped Dickery, momentarily speechified. "It's our duty, under the cross-eyed Golden Wallet. Alert the cities and states, towns and counties, for who knows what the evil poodle banks are planning, and their Alpa Barking Bark!"

"Dire evil, double dubious distraction, yes, Sir," said Madame.

"I am your Elected Sage, sworn to protect," continued Shrub. And it is time to clear-cut the  offending trees. Typhoons of massive deception may well be buried beneath their danky roots. We must level the forests! It's the American way. Sneaky dark-slanted poodle banks are probably hiding weapons right now in our great wilderness."

"Slanty bark-bites," groaned Dickery. "Yes, cut the trees now. Plant houses."

"Thank goodleness for our Supreme Intelligence," glabbled Shrub. "Were it not for our brave young buffoons, toiling night & day over a hot wire tap sneaky prod, we would never know that the evil poodle banks were planning to hide the typhoons right in our National Parks!"

"I hate those sneaky devils!" shrieked Dickery.

"We must also arm and alert Pretty Princess Ashbootie," announced Shrub.

"Glorious Ashbootie," agreed Dickery Dude, solemnly.

"She will snake-wrestle those smarky liberal wonkies on the Internet, and, using her amazing magic cauldron, spy on all their conversations, by land, by air, by PC!"

"Thank goodletunes for Ashbootie," agreed Dickery. "We LOVE her huge, magnified, take-all-prisoners liberties! We adore Pretty Princess Ashbootie."

"Quite a girl," agreed Shrub.

"So once we've leveled the forests and cemented new asphalt tri-level toll paths into the wilderness to protect the American Pubneck from the Typhoons of Missed Distraction, what else can we do?" And Dickery Dude held his solemn face in his hands, then reset his pacemaker with AM-FM speaker phones.

"We must lower air pollution standards," intoned Madame Shrub, with just the right tone of snoobious sincerity. "You see, Dickery --"

"Yes?" lapped Dickery, his ears quivering with attentive glee --

"Once we lower the air standards," intoned Shrub, "We give a huge boosteroo to the trickle up of calibrated multi-conglomirritable millionaires. The big boosteroo to industry will make me an even bigger hit at the Western Belle Ball."

"But you're already a bonafide hit, Shrub!" snortled Dickery. And little green bills fell from the polluted skies like confetti, saluting the saintly Shrub.

True, true, I'm the great savior of the Western Moodlefoops," said Madame Shrub, "and my duty must be to never rest 'til I have protected us all from the typhoons of missed distraction. I am here for all the Moodlefoops, red, green, and white. Let the leveling of the forests begin, and the clouding of the airs, so that no typhoons of missed distraction can ever threaten our way of life again."