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Doot-doot! Doot! Doot!
2003-12-05 - 7:02 p.m.


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I was pulling past a local McDonald's Playland thing, maybe it was Burger King.

Anyway, looking at it from the road, all lit up, with the hamster-like tubing that the children climb through,  extending up towards the flourescently lit ceiling, and I just had the urge to go in there, shout something inexplicable, like "Flyballs into the madrake garden!  Blame Wayne Brady!", and climb that fucker.  Right up to the top.

Just get right up on there and start shaking it.  Reefing on it with the whole body.  Trying to bring it down, of course to no avail.

These things are constructed with earthquakes in mind.  Considering that its a chain venture, they're probably engineered with the possibility that someone might loon out, maybe a soccer dad gone sideways, and try to bring it down.  Negligence lawsuits are a bitch, and so are punitive damages.

Eventually, of course, they'd bring me down.  They'd have to.  I wouldn't relent.  It would look like something out of the African Sehrenghetti.  Something from the discovery channel, maybe, or like out west, when a bear wanders into town and scales the local telephone pole.  Tranquilizer darts and nets.  Me landing with a meaty thud.

But in real, legal language, what could they have on me?

Disturbing the peace and trespassing, definitely.  No way around that, but even those are plea-bargainable misdemeanors.

Felonies?  None.

I could beat a malicious destruction of property rap.  That would be easy, as nothing was, nor could be damaged.  Felony mischeif?  No, your honor, just stress, sir.  Reckless child endagerment?  Not a chance, unless you can prove the thing was coming down.

I kinda' laughed and drove on my way.

Ungratified impulse but for the want of a few piddly misdemeanors.

Dammit all.


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