This time around, I’m posting a little story for your amusement. Happy 4th of July!
Saving the World from Evil Naked Millionaires:
A Holiday Story, Set in July
by Mark McLaughlin
It was outrageous. Deplorable. Blasphemous. I was walking downtown on a sunny July day, mentally listing all the wonderful things I was going to buy my friends for Christmas (I am so generous, I often think about that sort of thing many months in advance), when suddenly, I saw before me three naked millionaires, strolling along just as casual as can be. They were old, saggy, wrinkled and bloated. I could tell they were millionaires because they had diamond rings on their fingers and toes.
Grandmothers fainted. Mothers covered the eyes of children. Fathers shook their fists, but none dared to stop the evil naked millionaires.
I saw my friend, square-jawed Officer Forthright. “Officer Forthright,” I said, “why don’t you arrest those nude rich people? Don’t tell me that my friend Officer Forthright is afraid of a few naked millionaires!”
“My hands are tied,” Officer Forthright said. “The boys on Capitol Hill passed a law yesterday. A law that allows those decadent rich bastards to prance around as naked as they please. I happen to have a photocopy of the law with me.” He reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to me.
I smoothed out the document and read the shocking words: LAW A237-B DECREES THAT THOSE DECADENT RICH BASTARDS SHALL PRANCE AROUND AS NAKED AS THEY PLEASE. AND FURTHERMORE, THIS LAW SHALL NEVER BE AMENDED OR REPEALED.
“This time, the boys on Capitol Hill have gone too far!” I shouted. I marched up to the trio of naked millionaires and held out the photocopy.
“So! Is this your doing?” I cried.
The fattest millionaire squinted his beady red eyes at the paper. “Indeed it is,” he said. “We bought — er, uh, petitioned for that law and now it’s official.” He chuckled smugly. “And there’s nothing anyone can do about it. Like the last line says: this law shall never be amended or repealed.”
“And I couldn’t be happier!” I said. I beckoned to my friend, Officer Forthright, and he rushed to my side. “Officer Forthright, prepare to arrest these shameless human devils.”
He scratched his head. “How do you figure? After all, a law’s a law.”
I pointed at the photocopy. “It says here that these naked millionaires must be PRANCING AROUND. Why, not only are they not PRANCING, but to make matters even more blatantly illegal, they are not PRANCING AROUND anything!”
Officer Forthright smiled. “You heard him, boys. Start PRANCING AROUND. If you don’t, I’m going to have to toss your baby-soft million-dollar behinds IN JAIL!”
“Oh, no!” cried the fattest millionaire. Instantly all three of those pampered ne’er-do-wells began to prance: around trees and fire hydrants and warehouses, faster and faster. My fellow citizens and I laughed and laughed.
Soon the sweat was streaming off the naked millionaires in torrents. One of them fell down and cracked his kneecaps against the sidewalk — his dentures popped out of his mouth with a wet smack. He tried to rest for a moment, but my friend Officer Forthright shouted, “Come on, Chunky! Start prancing! It’s the LAW!” So that rich bastard got up and started prancing again. Then some big dogs starting chasing all three naked millionaires, and boy, THAT was funny.
Finally, all three evil naked millionaires dropped dead of heart attacks, and the people cheered.
“You saved the day,” Officer Forthright said, patting me on the back. “Thank you, Mark McLaughlin!”
“Oh, no. Thank YOU, Officer Forthright,” I said. “Now I can resume thinking about what I’m getting you for Christmas!”
– End –