One fine Autumn day, a young elf named Pinochinos strolled down a wooded path in a small forest outside of town. He was going to visit his mother and bring her a nice basket of brownies. Not the little pixie people, mind you, but the good old fashioned, really awesome type of chocolate dessert stuffed with walnuts and cool stuff like that.
So, anyway...he was walking down the silly little path when all of a sudden this small kind of woolfe jumped out of nowhere, which is right around the corner from somewhere, and stopped right in front of the little elf. The little elf jumped, frightened. The woolfe was completely appalling-looking, all ratty fur and sideburns. She had small little studded jeans on, and leg warmers. To think of the horror of such a fashion misfit. Pinochinos was very scared. He hoped that the woolfe wouldn't try to do any sort of Flashdance routine, or something equally as scary.
"Hello." Said the woolfe, "Do you like role-playing?"
"Uh, what?" Pinochinos asked.
"Role-playing, you goof. Like Dungeons and Dragons." She snarled as she took off the headphones to her walkman.
"Uh, no...mom says that stuff is the work of the devil." Pinochinos took one step back, but the woolfe stepped closer, looking him over. She spotted the basket of brownies. She took another step closer, her eyes getting wider, and her jaws opening, revealing capped molars, and one gold tooth.
"Ooh...what do you have there?" She clasped her paws and rubbed them together.
"Oh, nothing, just some tax forms for my accountant. You know it's past the deadline..." Pinochino sincerely hoped she had...since the IRS, although trying to become a friendlier institution, was still a bunch of knockerheads.
"Uh...well." The woolfe was caught off guard. She hadn't even considered if she was going to claim any dependants this year. Then, suddenly she figured out what he was on to, but she didn't take the bait. "So...have you ever played EverQuest?"
"Can't afford that junk, I'm broke." Pinochinos sighed. "I guess that's what you get for working for a non-profit organization."
"Well, what difference does it make? It's cheap. Only like $10 a month." The woolfe raised her paws, revealing razor sharp claws with that ugly two-tone nail polish that Elizabeth Taylor used to wear. She took another long step forward, ever closer to the brownies, and to the secret of the Pyramids at Giza.
Suddenly out of the dark woods came three small rodents, each carrying a musical instrument. One had a banjo, another, a washboard, and the third a bass fiddle. They hopped right in between Pinochinos and the woolfe.
"Oh my good feathers!" Pinochinos took a step back. "It's those three fugitives from the Hampster Dance website!"
"Egad!" exclaimed the woolfe and pulled the brush out of her back pocket, waving it defensively in front of her. "Don't you dare sing, or I'll give you all layered haircuts!"
But it was to no avail, or to no anvil, either. They started singing "Say You, Say Me" as a country song. Both Pinochinos and the woolfe put their hands over their ears and grimaced. It was the worst thing they had ever heard. Even the tame little forest creatures couldn't stand it, and they ran away to hide in their timeshares in St. Martin where all of the Hollywood animals hang out.
"That's all I can stands...I can't stands no more!" Pinochinos yelled out and reached into the basket, pulling out two brownies. He threw one at the woolfe.
"Quick, eat it! It'll give us enough energy to run away...far, far away...to a safe place where you never have any trouble connecting to AOL, and there's no Bill Clintons anywhere!"
"Do they have EverQuest there?" queried the woolfe.
"Of course!" Pinochinos replied, happily.
So they ran away to the far away land of Delaware and had a lot of fun role-playing, without any of the devil's influence, and never had to file a 1040A ever again. They even planted an e-zine called Seeker with some magic seeds and wrote many a fine article on how great it was to be alive, watching it grow into a wonderful little website. They even had to hire a gardener named Cherie to take care of it, because it had grown so big that Pepperidge Farm was threatening to chop it down if it overgrew into their field of crackers.
But mostly, they lived happily ever after.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
....written with the influence of the great sprite of life, and dedicated to an amazing Heart-Sister, and true visionary, Denise.
(Well okay...it happened nothing like that, but wouldn't it be fun if it did?)
Letter to the Author at trianglmn@aol.com