Teenage Nightmare

If ya'll have a couple of minutes (well, okay, maybe about 10), I'd like to tell you a little story of how a teenage dream became an instant nightmare while a student at Peralta Junior High School in Orange, CA back in the 70's. I'll do my best to try and keep it short. Sometimes, we all have a tendency to dream bigger than we should. As an anonymous ninth grader, I had a huge secret crush on Cindy McDaniel, a blonde beautiful cheerleader, just like probably all the other boys who knew they didn't have a chance with her. Anyway, I made the horrible mistake one Friday after school of telling a friend about it who then, without my knowledge, promptly told her. My friend immediately called me back and said, "Guess what? She just broke up with her boyfriend (who was the quarterback on the football team, I was the statistician) and she likes you too!" My first thought was, "Oh great! What do I do now?" I started having an anxiety attack thinking about having to call her and discussing my first course of action as her new boyfriend. I finally gathered up enough courage and called her and told her I would see her at school on Monday before classes started. Well, needless to say, Monday arrived way too soon. I'll never forget the looks on the other kids' faces as they saw me, a virtual nobody, walking hand in hand with the most popular girl on campus. My feelings were mixed. I was proud yet terribly embarrassed at the thought of what they all must have been thinking, "How the hell did HE end up with HER?" In conclusion, I guess, much to my relief, she only liked me for the rest of the day and then it was on to another football player who ended up playing in the NFL.

24: Post Another Day

If I need someone to save the world at a minute's notice, you can forget Superman, Batman, Spider-Man, Iron Man, Captain America and all those other superhero clowns, I'm calling Jack Bauer. 

Prez: Hello, Jack, how are you? Listen, hate to trouble you as I know you're a very busy man but we've got a little problem here. There is a meteor heading for the earth which, if not intercepted, will destroy all life and civilization on our planet. Can you help us?
Jack: I'll get right on it, Mr. President, as soon as I break out of this maximum security prison in Russia which should only take a few minutes... Chloe, I need an ETA on this meteor.
Chloe: Jack, I'm on it... Jack, you only have 30 minutes!
Jack: Chloe, is that with or without commercials? 
Chloe: With. 
Jack: Dammit!

As the meteor continues to hurtle toward earth threatening the entire human population, Jack Bauer has just broken out of the Russian maximum security prison when he receives some valuable intel from Chloe.

Chloe: Jack, I've just received some valuable intel. 
Jack: What is it, Chloe?
Chloe: Jack, the producers have you die in the final episode. 
Jack: Dammit, Chloe! I don't have time for this. What's the destination of the meteor and how much time do I have?
Chloe: Sorry, Jack. I guess this is finally it. We're all goners (pouty face).
Jack: Dammit!
Chloe: Jack, we've had a nice run. I mean, we were fortunate to come back for one more season. 
Jack: Don't they know that I am Jack Bauer?! That I am invicible! That I cannot be killed! THAT I AM A GOD!

As Jack Bauer contemplates his next course of action with time quickly running out before the meteor arrives, he gets an idea which could possibly save the earth and all mankind.

Jack: Chloe, I need one last favor. Are you still with me?
Chloe: Jack, I've been with you since the start of Season 3 and I'm not going to abandon you now. 
Jack: Good. I knew I could count on you. Chloe, I need you to get me the address of the writer for the final episode of 24. 
Chloe: I'm on it, Jack. 

The meteor is running a little late due to some heavy space traffic buying Jack and Chloe some valuable additional time... Jack soon breaks into the home of the writer and confronts him. 

Jack: Sir, you MUST rewrite the ending of the final episode ASAP!
Writer: I can't. I've already submitted it to the producers. 
Jack: Do you realize that millions of innocent people will die all because of your script?
Writer: I'm sorry. It's too late. They've already... AHH! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU JUST SHOT ME IN THE LEG! YOU'RE INSANE!
Jack: DO IT NOW!
Writer: ALRIGHT! PLEASE, JUST DON'T SHOOT ME AGAIN!

And, once again, folks, Jack Bauer has proved that in spite of seemingly insurmountable odds, he was the right man for the job as we all posted for another day.

How Grasshopper Became Jiminy Cricket

Master: Grasshopper, you have successfully completed your basic training and are now ready to fulfil your destiny. 
Grasshopper: Yes, Master. 
Master: Your first mission will be to serve as a conscience to a little wooden puppet named Pinocchio. 
Grasshopper: Huh? 
Master: The Blue Fairy will explain. Oh, and you will now be known as "Jiminy Cricket." 
Grasshopper: But, Master, I am a grasshopper. 
Master: Close enough.
Grasshopper: Master, what is a conscience? 
Master: I was afraid you were going to ask me that. Let me just put it this way. You will be responsible for telling Pinocchio the difference between right and wrong. Now, try to get him to do the right things or else you will start to burn to the point of eventually becoming a fried, crisp and tasty little grasshopper. 
Grasshopper: Master, I am not sure if I want this particular mission. Are there any others?
Master: Nope, I'm afraid not, old boy. 
Grasshopper: Is there a way to get his mistakes erased so that I don't burn and die a most terrible death? 
Master: Yes, Grasshopper. Have him read "The Miracle of Forgiveness" and have him call and make an appointment to go and talk to his bishop. 
Grasshopper: Master, who is the Blue Fairy? 
Master: Ah, most fortunate winged one! Wait till you see her! She is smokin' hot! 
Grasshopper: Is she a conscience too? 
Master: No, Grasshopper, it's a different kind of hot. You will see. Oh, and a word of advice. Try to stay out of Pleasure Island. I've been there a few times myself and was lucky to escape with all of my legs and wings intact. 
Grasshopper: Master, I will miss you. 
Master: Aw, me too, you little runt.

"THERE'S A MOUSE IN MY HOUSE!!!"

Helpful Employee: Eek! There's a Mouse in my House Exterminator Service. Can I help you?
Distressed Woman: HELP ME PLEASE!!! THERE'S A MOUSE IN MY HOUSE!!!
Helpful Employee: Don't worry, Ma'am. You've called the right people. We've got a special going on right now. Three exterminations for the price of two. Would you be interested?
Distressed Woman: I DON'T CARE!!! I NEED HELP NOW!!!
Helpful Employee: Okay, I'll take that as a no. Ma'am, could you please describe the perpetrator?
Distressed Woman: HE'S 10 FEET TALL WITH LONG VICIOUS FANGS DRIPPING WITH BLOOD!!! YOU MORON!!! HE'S A DAMN MOUSE, FOR PETE'S SAKE!!!
Helpful Employee: Ma'am, I know this is difficult for you, but, please, try to calm down. Now, we have a number of experienced professional exterminators on our staff. We have Omar the Persian Prince of Darkness who will have his head off before you can say, "Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves." Terrible Tickle Tom Tabby who delights in sadistic torture and cruel mayhem. Hannibal the Cannibal Kid Calico (who thinks he's a mouse) who will also dispose of him by having him for lunch...
Distressed Woman: ...though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil...
Helpful Employee: Okay, I'll send over Omar.

Misfit Toys v. Santa Claus

In spite of all the happiness that Santa Claus has brought to the millions of children throughout the world, there will always be a black chapter in his long, illustrious career. Many do not remember (or wish to remember) his inhumane treatment of the Misfit Toys who were banished to the Island of Misfit Toys for no fault of their own. If it wasn't for 60 Minutes who exposed the violation of their civil rights they might still be living in squalor and shame. Of course, Gloria Allred immediately seized the opportunity to defend them and promptly filed a multimillion dollar class action lawsuit on their behalf against Mr. Claus, which basically would have shut down all toy building operations at the North Pole. The case was eventually settled out of court and the Misfit Toys were all delivered to semi-good children. A quality control department was also set up by the Elves to ensure that all toys would forever be created equal. Who knows what led Santa to resort to such despicable behavior? Perhaps, he thought that the delivery of "misfit" toys would cause unnecessary whining from ungrateful children who would then begin to question his ability to satisfy their Christmas wish lists. Whatever the reasons, it is a chapter that hopefully, will never be repeated in the annals of yuletide history.

Stupid Cupid

A man who is accused of trying to get marijuana into a Washington state jail by attaching it to an arrow he shot onto the roof has been identified. The suspect is none other than Cupid, the chubby little cherub who is responsible for causing so many of us to fall hopelessly in love. When questioned of his motive for shooting an arrow with marijuana attached to it into the jail, this was his response. "I've been having quite a bit of trouble these last few years with getting men to fall in love. With their fantasy football leagues, video games, lack of responsibilities, etc., they just don't seem to have an interest in love anymore no matter how potent my arrows are. In fact, these "man-boys" seem to have almost become immune to them. So, I decided to try something just a little different. Granted, it probably wasn't the most ideal place to start but I just wanted to see if, by perhaps, altering their state of minds would somehow allow my arrows to once again produce their desired effects."

The Diabolical Brain Brothers

I have just been informed by my friend and closest ally, my heart, that the long standing feud between my right brain and my left brain has reached a permanent ceasefire. After years of non-stop bickering which often times has left me virtually brain dead, "The Diabolical Brain Brothers" as they now call themselves, have torn down the wall between them and are now united as one, all powerful, Superbrain. Unfortunately, however, in the process of their reunification they became corrupted and now seek control over every member of my body, including my heart, who had many times tried to intervene and negotiate a peace treaty. I refuse to allow my beloved friend, who had already suffered so much from their constant feuding, to fall and become subject to their total domination. The war has begun.