A Subliminal Fairy Tale
Long, long ago (1988) in a land far, far away (Hoboken, New Jersey) there lived a Prince (kid whose parents owned a paint factory). The Prince's name was Ohn (stupid name) and his royal family was of Latvian descent (or maybe Nigerian. It was unclear.)
When he was young, the Prince's parents, the King and Queen (Archie and Edith) painted their entire castle (semi-detached 2-story with street parking) with royal paint made in the royal factory (cheap bastards). Throughout the Prince's childhood (the 1960’s), the King and Queen ignored frequent government warnings regarding the dangers of lead paint ingestion (dismissing them as "so much meshugas") and continued to give Ohn's princely crib a fresh coat once a month until he turned twelve.
Shortly after his twelfth birthday, the Prince completed his seventh year of schooling (second grade) and was placed in a program for special needs students (retards) at a boarding school (sanatorium) in Switzerland (actually upstate New York but Ohn wasn’t capable of distinguishing between the two).
As a young adult studying abroad (receiving palliative care for advanced saturnism), Ohn was exposed to literature (Dr. Seuss), art (paint-by-numbers) and architecture (Lego). While the Prince showed little aptitude in these areas (spent most of his time drooling and jonesing for a paint fix), he displayed an overwhelming interest in objects of a royal nature (anything that was either sparkly or twirly). Such royal objects induced great excitement in the Prince (short-circuited his fragile little brain). One day during a trip to a royal fair (strip mall carnival near Syracuse), the Prince watched a jester (street busker stoned on mescaline) spinning silver plates on sticks and fell into a deep sleep (stroke-induced coma) that lasted seven years.
While convalescing, the Prince's condition was monitored closely by the most skilled surgeons in the land (an orderly named Jesus who scraped the sole of Ohn’s foot with a ball point pen every few hours). But alas, Prince Ohn showed no signs of awakening from his sleep. This upset the King and Queen deeply (the obligatory, weekly drive from Hoboken to Syracuse took over 8 hours and gas was expensive) so they sent an announcement throughout the countryside (placed a personal ad in Mercenaries for Hire Monthly) offering a reward ($437 and a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon) to anyone who could awaken the Prince from his slumber (or, preferably, make his demise appear to be the result of natural causes).
Within a few days, the King and Queen were visited by the most beautiful maiden in all the land (a she-male named Shirley Manheim and her “friend” Am-bush) who claimed she could awaken the Prince with a single kiss (or if that didn’t work, cover his face with a pillow until he stopped twitching). The King and Queen were so excited, they raced at once (as soon as Everybody Loves Raymond was over) to their royal chariot (a 1982 Dodge Aries wagon with a bad rear suspension) and traveled all night to Switzerland (whatever) where the Prince lay sleeping. The maiden and her chaperone (mack daddy) followed closely behind in their chariot (yellow Vespa).
Upon arriving in Switzerland (enough already), the King, Queen, maiden and her escort raced (stopping only long enough to “spark a rock” in the alley) to the Prince’s chamber where the maiden proceeded to lean over the handsome Prince’s bed (futon on the floor of the boiler room) and give him the most delicate kiss any Prince has ever received (her tongue stopped just shy of his tonsils). Magically, the Prince’s eyes opened and he gasped for air (her breath smelled like Gorgonzola. And dirt.) All four visitors shouted encouragements in unison “More, Ohn. More, Ohn.” (the irony was lost on everyone.)
And they all lived happily ever after (the King and Queen making good on Shirley's reward money but reneging on the beer and the Prince henceforth requiring treatment for both lead poisoning and hepatitis B.)
The End
When he was young, the Prince's parents, the King and Queen (Archie and Edith) painted their entire castle (semi-detached 2-story with street parking) with royal paint made in the royal factory (cheap bastards). Throughout the Prince's childhood (the 1960’s), the King and Queen ignored frequent government warnings regarding the dangers of lead paint ingestion (dismissing them as "so much meshugas") and continued to give Ohn's princely crib a fresh coat once a month until he turned twelve.
Shortly after his twelfth birthday, the Prince completed his seventh year of schooling (second grade) and was placed in a program for special needs students (retards) at a boarding school (sanatorium) in Switzerland (actually upstate New York but Ohn wasn’t capable of distinguishing between the two).
As a young adult studying abroad (receiving palliative care for advanced saturnism), Ohn was exposed to literature (Dr. Seuss), art (paint-by-numbers) and architecture (Lego). While the Prince showed little aptitude in these areas (spent most of his time drooling and jonesing for a paint fix), he displayed an overwhelming interest in objects of a royal nature (anything that was either sparkly or twirly). Such royal objects induced great excitement in the Prince (short-circuited his fragile little brain). One day during a trip to a royal fair (strip mall carnival near Syracuse), the Prince watched a jester (street busker stoned on mescaline) spinning silver plates on sticks and fell into a deep sleep (stroke-induced coma) that lasted seven years.
While convalescing, the Prince's condition was monitored closely by the most skilled surgeons in the land (an orderly named Jesus who scraped the sole of Ohn’s foot with a ball point pen every few hours). But alas, Prince Ohn showed no signs of awakening from his sleep. This upset the King and Queen deeply (the obligatory, weekly drive from Hoboken to Syracuse took over 8 hours and gas was expensive) so they sent an announcement throughout the countryside (placed a personal ad in Mercenaries for Hire Monthly) offering a reward ($437 and a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon) to anyone who could awaken the Prince from his slumber (or, preferably, make his demise appear to be the result of natural causes).
Within a few days, the King and Queen were visited by the most beautiful maiden in all the land (a she-male named Shirley Manheim and her “friend” Am-bush) who claimed she could awaken the Prince with a single kiss (or if that didn’t work, cover his face with a pillow until he stopped twitching). The King and Queen were so excited, they raced at once (as soon as Everybody Loves Raymond was over) to their royal chariot (a 1982 Dodge Aries wagon with a bad rear suspension) and traveled all night to Switzerland (whatever) where the Prince lay sleeping. The maiden and her chaperone (mack daddy) followed closely behind in their chariot (yellow Vespa).
Upon arriving in Switzerland (enough already), the King, Queen, maiden and her escort raced (stopping only long enough to “spark a rock” in the alley) to the Prince’s chamber where the maiden proceeded to lean over the handsome Prince’s bed (futon on the floor of the boiler room) and give him the most delicate kiss any Prince has ever received (her tongue stopped just shy of his tonsils). Magically, the Prince’s eyes opened and he gasped for air (her breath smelled like Gorgonzola. And dirt.) All four visitors shouted encouragements in unison “More, Ohn. More, Ohn.” (the irony was lost on everyone.)
And they all lived happily ever after (the King and Queen making good on Shirley's reward money but reneging on the beer and the Prince henceforth requiring treatment for both lead poisoning and hepatitis B.)
The End
posted by dp at
2:57 PM
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