Eskimo Invasion in Midwestern United States

Reports have been trickling in from a certain little bird--ok, it was actually a trio of rather large birds, actually--that Eskimos have been sighted in Wausau and surrounding areas. Since this was, obviously, exciting news for those of us who have never seen a real, live Eskimo, we sent out our scouts with their cameras at the ready.

After several days of slogging through slushy snow, enduring frigid temperatures, and being repeatedly chased out of homes by broom-wielding old ladies, one of our photographers found the genuine article. That's right, ladies and gentlemen! One of our photographers, an incognito agent who sneaks around under the guise of being a home schooling student, was able to find and capture this good-looking young Eskimo on film. Of course, he was rather surprised by the camera's flash, because they don't have such things where he comes from, but he's recovering well from the mild case of fried-eyeball syndrome that resulted from the taking of this photo.



If you see this young man during your next Christmas shopping expedition, please do make sure to say hi and tell him how glad you are that he has come to liven up the social scene here in Wausau.

Last night in my medical terminology class, we watched a bit of graphic video footage on the effect that smoking has on your lungs...and the effect that eating cheesecurds and French fries has on your aorta...and the effect that drinking has on your liver...and the effect that candy has on your diabetes. (ok, so it was a clip from Oprah. Whatever.)

But it really made a deep impression on me. Deeper, that is, than some of the other horror stories that I've heard in whispers from well-meaning grandparents, who lean over their Thanksgiving pumpkin pie with wide eyes to warn you about the dangers of going out into public without first checking to make sure that your shirt has all its buttons and your pants are zipped.

So today, as I was meandering from one class to another, I was more struck than usual by the number of people that you find outside puffing away on cancer sticks in subzero degree weather. What's up with that?!

Every time I walked by one of these benevolent individuals who was so dutifully helping to counteract global cooling by emitting as much environmental pollution as possible, I was picturing the alveoli melting away inside of their lungs, and the nasty black tar getting a little thicker and a little nastier with each puff...and it was rather disturbing, to be perfectly frank.

So disturbing, in fact, that I began to think of making a modern rendition of the old Tar Baby/Brer Rabbit stories, only the Tar Baby would be played by a smoker in the new version. And perhaps I'd give the Easter Bunny a speaking part and let him take on the role of Brer Rabbit if he agreed to donate his eggs to the Salvation Army in exchange--I'm pretty sure they're way past their expiration date anyway--he's been carrying them around in that same ol' basket since ten years before I was born...

Any and all script ideas will be given due consideration, and I thank you kindly in advance for your time in this regard.