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The Wonderful Wizard of Reno...Part 8

Updated on May 2, 2012

“Curtain Call...”

“Psst, Psst? Hey Mack? You have tickets to this show?” The voice arrests the forward movement of the excited reader who is about to enter the theater...

“Why yes I do. Thank you.” They respond promptly.

“And you’re joining the story here?” The voice asks harshly. “Without reading the first Seven Parts?? Madness...madness!”

“I don’t understand...” Trails off the hapless reader...

“Click HERE to enter the story at the correct place!” The voice hisses before complaining about the tendencies of tourists...

I Hope you Enjoy.


“Have You Tried Soaking Them in Epson Salt?” The Midget Asks...

Jane Goodall was about all done in. Since being spotted by the Gorilla troops earlier, she had beaten feet into the underbrush and had scrambled, for about a quarter of a mile, before losing the soldiers and was, currently, on her hands and knees, dry-heaving, over a tumble weed.

The RC Helicopter and its accusatory spotlight had nearly been her undoing until, suddenly, it lurched up and spiraled off to the right before crashing into the river.

Tom Cruise had succeeded in getting hold of the controls when he experienced a Top Gun flashback (When Goose died)...freaked out...and crashed the helicopter.

Willow Ufgood lay where Jane had dropped him after carting his bawling ass away from the danger...he was still sniffling...

The tumble weed, which recognizes the famed primatologist, is having none of it...

“Jane. Sweetie?” He begins with saucy indignation. “I understand that you are old and about all done in dear; however, I would appreciate if you could keep, what sounds like, dried lung butter, from getting all over me.”

Jane, who is old and about all done in, still has the manners taught to her by her parents. She lurches to her side and lays in the fetal position trying to catch her breath. Her iron grey hair is a disheveled mess. A fleck of ‘dried lung-butter’ shoots from her quivering lips and hits the ground. Sweat forms a shiny film across her face...

The tumble weed waits patiently...

Once Jane manages to compose herself, introductions are made. The tumble weed is named Pepper. Turns out...Pepper is an alcoholic and gender confused tumble weed with bulimic tendencies.

You will find weirder things in a Reno park at night...

“And so you were chased by the Gorillas?” Pepper probes upon hearing Jane’s account.

Willow breaks in, “It was horrible!! Those little ponies didn’t have a chance! I, of course, protected Jane as I could...” He trails off...

“Oh it sounds horrible, sweetie! Simply ghastly!” Pepper soothes Willow while looking at him appraisingly. “Say darling...would you have a bottle of something, something we could maybe share together? We can have some fun!”

Being an alcoholic and, gender confused, tumble weed, he makes the exact same offer to Jane...

Pepper had been tumbling around Reno’s parks for awhile now. Some time ago, a pink chiffon bustier had gotten caught up in his brambles, and that’s when he got confused. Also, if you bounce around the streets of Reno for any length of time, you will absorb enough spilled alcohol to develop a problem.

Pepper always had an eating disorder. The mere thought of food causes him to cough up dusts of regret. You can see right through him in places...

Having lived a sheltered life in his village...Willow is taken aback by this sexual forwardness and takes several steps backwards. Jane, who has been around the world and has seen things, takes it in stride.

“Simmer down, Pepper.” Jane advises. “I need to put a stop to this cruelty and then publish a paper about it!”

Pepper sniffs dismissively as a westerly gust of wind sends him skittering towards Willow before an easterly finds him sashaying back. Willow is wary...


The Dwarf confides, “I Don’t Care to get my Toes Wet...”

“The roundups have intensified lately.” Pepper admits. “It’s not just the My Little Ponies, either. Dwarves, engaged in the sex trade, are disappearing off the streets too.”

Jane ponders this information as she thinks. Pepper ponders Willow as he mentally undresses him. Willow ponders his feet as he blushes...

“Any idea who might be behind it?” Jane asks as she thinks about the cast of characters that filled her notebook: Talking gorillas, Taliban trainees, midgets named Frederick, and Scientologists. Weird ass shit, thinks Jane.

Pepper sighs, “Jane...I’m a tumble weed. What do I know?”

Jane forces the issue, “’re a tumble weed. You know what you know.”

Pepper sways with the slight wind that rustles the shrubbery along side the river bank. It’s a nice night...about 78 degrees and no humidity. The slight breeze that pushes Pepper feels good to Jane and Willow. Nobody likes humidity in a story. Still...Pepper proves pensive...

“I’ve heard some things and seen some things.” Pepper finally puts forth before clarifying his access, “People don’t pay much attention to tumble weeds.”

“And I have always believed they should!” Jane mollifies Pepper.

Pepper appears mollified. “That’s true, Jane. You have always been very good to tumble weeds.”

“Here’s the scoop,” Pepper confides. “Word has it that the midgets are making a big push to take over the “little-people fetish sex-industry.” Actors, directors, writers, production crew and producers. Everything. Vertically-challenged integration is what they are calling it.”

“And the My Little Pony round-ups?” Questions Willow.

Pepper wobbles with an updraft...

“That I don’t know.” Admits Pepper after settling down. “The round-ups started the same time as the Dwarf sweeps. Rumor has it that a right-wing politician named, Sharon Angle, is behind that...something to do with her campaign manager...L. Ron Hubbard, although, I don’t have any details myself. I do know someone who might be able to help with that.” He finally offers.

They talk until a slow wind picks up in the direction Pepper needs to go...he saunters that way as Jane and Willow follow. The winds are favorable and the journey goes quickly. With the flourish of a dancer, Pepper alights next to a small pier that juts into the Truckee River.

Tied snugly to the pier is an iceberg which showed every indication of having recently been used as the site for an Eskimo birth with (traditional) three penguin herald...


“That’s Weird.” Notes the Midget...

Elephant was having a good time. He had finished off a half-bottle of claret and was currently enjoying a cigar as he maneuvered the ghost of Ronald Reagan into an untenable position in their third game of chess. They’re eating jellybeans...

The former President is finishing a bawdy joke involving Margaret Thatcher, a bull whip, a broken nipple clamp, and the nation of Argentina.

“And that’s why they called her the Iron Lady!!! HAW-HAW!” Reagan laughs loudly as he slaps his knee.

“OH! OH! OH!” Elephant sputters as he dissolves into laughter at that unexpected double entendre. His trunk flails about drunkenly as he trumpets, “Good form, Mr. President! Good form!!”

The other members of the club looked up in amusement at the two of them. They’re used to the half-drunken antics of Elephant and the ghost of Ronald Reagan.

The President suddenly sobers up. “Speaking of broken nipple clamps...I don’t like Sharon Angle.”

“Nobody likes a broken nipple clamp,” Elephant agrees. “In fact, I get the same emotional response to a broken nipple clamp as I do to Sharron Angle...I think to myself...’What’s the point?’”

“There is no point to a broken nipple clamp!” Reagan declares loudly before lamenting. “What has happened to the Republican Party since I retired, contracted Alzheimer’s, and died? I don’t recognize the party and I don’t remember that being the Alzheimer’s fault!”

Elephant nods sadly. “Indeed, Mr. President, the Republicans took a dark turn in the early 1990s after losing the election to Bill Clinton. Not the entire party, certainly, but the extreme right-wing has effectively hunted moderate Republicans, beyond, the point of extinction. This has left us with the likes of Sharron Angle.”

Reagan turns his head to the left and spits on the floor in disgust. The jelly-bean hued saliva causes the expensive carpet to look as if it had come from a cheap Reno casino. It seems to swirl and vortex...

“She’s a putrid piece of fish, rotting on a pier.” He mumbles before announcing, “I have every intention of informing the ghost of Abraham Lincoln of these developments. I will send word to Nancy through the normal communications....séance.”

At this point, the ghost of Ronald Reagan stands up and, with a nod to Elephant, leaves the room and the unfinished game of chess. Everyone stands until he’s gone and then resume their seats.

Elephant finishes his cigar while contemplating how he can best allay the former president’s fears. There were dark happenings afoot in the Biggest Little City in the World...Reno, Nevada. Tossing back the last of his claret he resolves to go see The Wonderful Wizard of Reno...

Uncle Arthur...
Uncle Arthur... | Source

“Even Weirder...When I Touch Myself Here...I Sneeze.” The Dwarf Reports with a Giggle before Violently Sneezing...

This was not the first errant iceberg, moored to a small pier, on an unlikely river, that Jane Goodall had come across. The first was on the Ubangi River in the Republic of the Congo. Then, as now, that berg had shown the typical signs associated with an Eskimo birth with (traditional) three penguin herald.

These signs include: a slash of crimson at the site of the birth, the tell-tale remains of a small fire, and a shit-load of webbed penguin footprints.

Additionally, the footprints reveal that a jig had been danced, suggesting that the use of a silver flute was in play. That was rare. Normally, these affairs are serenaded by harmonicas but, without, the more ornate jig being danced. Interesting...

There was one discernable difference, however, between this iceberg in Reno, Nevada, and the earlier one, on the Ubangi River, in the Republic of the Congo...

This one had the American actor, Paul Lynde (who portrayed Uncle Arthur on the beloved TV show...Bewitched), sitting on a kitchen chair. Uncle Arthur is pondering the fire remnants and doesn’t notice the group until Pepper calls out...

“Uncle Arthur! What are you doing?” Pepper calls out

Looking up, Uncle Arthur surveys the group. No introductions are required as everyone has read the preceding seven parts to this fanciful tale. “I’m avoiding my sister Endora! (Played by actress, Agnes Moorehead).” He calls back...

They get to talking...

Turns out there was a dust up with the Witches Council and, that august body had turned Darrin (Dick York) into a pregnant Eskimo woman, while transforming Samantha (Elizabeth Montgomery), Aunt Clara (Marion Lorne), and Larry Tate (David White), into Emperor penguins. Arthur had been tasked with securing their return.

“The trail went cold on this iceberg.” He finishes before cracking up. Pepper and Willow giggle. Jane looks on disapprovingly...

“So you’re a wizard?” Willow asks Uncle Arthur hopefully as he wipes snot away with his sleeve.

Arthur considers him disdainfully before correcting him, “I am a warlock.”

“OH! Could I be your apprentice??”

“Have you passed your village’s ‘Test of Magic’ yet?”

“No.” Willow admits forlornly.

“Well then, of course you can’t be my apprentice.” Arthur dashes all his hopes.

Willow bursts out in tears as Pepper consoles him...

A low plaintive complaint is heard from the end of the pier, “Screw Obama. I want what I want. What I want is what should happen...” The voice continuously mutters... The group walks over and looks at the source. It’s a putrid piece of fish, rotting on a pier. Willow goes over and nudges it into the fast moving current...

Far off in the distance...the Munchkins let loose with a ragged cheer...


The group fails to notice the stealthy approach of the Gorillas...

(End Part 8)

(Part 1)(Part 2)(Part 3)(Part 4)(Part 5)(Part 6)(Part 7)(Part 9)(Part 10)


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