Friday, May 19, 2006 | Fiction
I woke up in a strange place, then I went back to sleep. Then I woke up again and a bear was next to me. The bear spoke:
“Don’t worry, I only eat salmon.”
“O.K.,” I said.
The bear started sniffing, then it sniffed more, and finally it stopped sniffing and spoke again, this time in a British accent.
“Chap, I hate to say this, but I smell some bloody salmon here … it’s coming from your ass.”
“It is?” I asked, clenching my butt cheeks. “Do what you gotta do,” I said. I wasn’t in the mood to fight a grizzly; maybe a black bear, but not a grizzly.
“You’re a smart kid,” the bear said, its long tongue doing rotation exercises. They say you can get off when someone plays with your ass; I was about to find out, I thought.
“Damn, this is some good salmon, playa,” the bear said, this time in urban lingo. “This shit be straight out of Alaska.”
“Honey, go make the coffee and let the dog out.”
William J. Morrison invented cotton candy in 1897, via the electric candy machine he co-patented with John C. Wharton, a fellow Nashville confectioner; however his legacy is disputed by Josef Delarose Lascaux, a dentist from New Orleans, whose professional interests clearly conflict with his confectionery boasts.