The Other "B" Word

This is the real deal

The one and only

The one whose creator will sue the pants off you

if you even use the name OR sing the song and

no, I'm not kidding

So I was driving along a bendy country road when my car broke down. It was the kind of breakdown where you couldn't even pull all the way to the curb, which was fine, since there were no curbs on this road. There were no curbs ... there was no sidewalk ... there was no sign of human life.

Lebanon - not the country. That was the name of the farm town where, on this hot and humid summer day, my birthday party/balloon delivery was located.

It wasn't enough that the humidity was hovering around eighty-five percent. It wasn't enough that the temperature was swiftly climbing from the crack-of-dawn-eighty-five that woke me up in a pool of sweat. And it still wasn't enough that the air conditioning in my car was not working at all. No. All of this clearly was not enough.

Even under such conditions, I had to blow up ten helium balloons, load them into my car and get into my sickening, furry, crinoline-stuffed, purple dinosaur costume - all for the sake of putting a smile on some little kid's face.

Certain rules needed to be followed when you were pretending to be something you weren't.

Under no circumstances were you to be seen or heard out-of-character. No way, no how, not ever! You put on that costume and you simply became the character until you were at a safe distance from your party people. The most important rule, however, was to keep your head on - come hell or high water - keep your head on unless you were one hundred percent sure there were no children in sight; don't want to traumatize little Stan or Wendy now, do you? I can hear it now, "AAAAAH! They took B**ney's head off! Bastards!"^

You needed to know those rules to fully appreciate the dilemma I found myself in as my car broke down on a desolate, winding road in Lebanon (not the country) in the hellish heat of one afternoon I will never forget.

Here's the clincher. For some ungodly reason, before leaving my home on that evil day, I decided to strip down and go full-body commando* beneath all the net and fur that unbeknownst to me, was to become my personal chamber of horror later on. I had never done this before, but after all, I was tired of baking in my costumes all summer long, while fighting off dogs and children and pathetically smartass adults. Besides, who would ever know?

Aside from the fact that I never made it to my delivery, a large herd of Holsteins started to take a liking to me - in a very frightening way. Lucky for me they have the intelligence of an empty bucket or they might have made their way through the shoddy, wooden fence between us and done unspeakable things to me. I could swear they were whispering amongst themselves - probably making up some Far Side-ish jokes as the big purple girlosaur paced back and forth in her enormous, stuffed feet.

I can't make this crap up, people.

Keeping in mind that the average Joe wasn't packing a cell phone back then, you can read the awful chain of events while I try once again to forget the whole thing:

*Car broke down

*Cursed and swore, very much out of character, at the sun-god, the humidity-god, and the B**ney-god

*Again, out of character, was forced to leave big dino head off (can't drive with head on) while I sought help

*In barefooted stupor, had no choice but to put on exaggerated costume feet and step away from car while looking up and down road in hopes of spotting a house or oncoming vehicle

*Said three Hail Mary's for leaving head off and risked being within eye-shot of any kids who would see B**ney headless

*Decided to remove crinoline-stuffed, furry costume so that I could breathe and stay alive long enough to seek help

*REALIZED I COULDN'T REMOVE COSTUME DUE TO FOOLISH DECISION MADE EARLIER AT HOUSE (see commando reference above)

*Started walking (and wheezing) in the direction I had been driving as I knew there was no sign of human life at least two miles in direction I came from

*Stopped in tracks - swore loudly - prayed not to be found dead in two-thirds of costume on winding road in Lebanon (not the country) in 90+ degree heat

*Suddenly detected a series of low, rolling "moos" coming from pasture to my right. Looked over to see large herd of cows slowly approaching and -- I could swear, nudging one another and winking

*Headed back to car realizing there's no way I could walk another step in this get-up and in this ghastly heat

*Sat with door open and fake feet off - back zipper pulled down and now pouring warm water bottle over shoulders and head to try to cool down

*Had sudden outburst of uncontrollable laughter as I sat wondering what someone would think if they drove past me looking this way

*Cried hard as someone drove past me, slowed down, noticed flailing, purple, headless furball and kept going

*Eventually breathed sigh of relief as a kindly soul stopped and taking pity, agreed to call my road service and party-store owner for me

When all was said and done that day, I realized I might be getting a bit too old for this kind of gig. The money was nice, but so is sitting on your ass in your air conditioned living room on your day off from your regular job. I was finished ... I would do up the dates that were already booked (which sadly took me into December), but that was the end ... at least, for that particular character.

I'll leave you with a catchy little tune that evolved from my character-acting days. Come on - sing it together now - you all know the song (sung to melody of "I Love You, You Love Me"):

I hate you, you hate me, we're a screwed up family
With a purple butt and a tail so frigging long
Shoot me while I sing this song ....

PLEASE!

^ kindly note South Park references
*(nude, naked, bareassed)