||[Oct. 11th, 2006|05:23 pm]
I was walking down Willakenzie Road and it turned into a New Zealand nowhere. Just a road with green everywhere. And more green after that. In the middle of the green I saw a house. I was walking toward the house. I was walking through an orchard and took an apple from a tree.
"Hey!" Someone yelled. "That's not yours!"
I turned around and it was Billy Zane. I said: "You're Billy Zane. You can't tell me not to eat an apple. You don't even live here!"
We walked to the house and my mom was in the kitchen. She can't cook, but she was in the kitchen. We, all three, sat at the table and had some tea. My mom claimed Billy Zane:
"What are you, anyway?" she asked. "Italian? Italians aren't white. Greek? Greeks weren't even white till 1935 (this is true). Are you Mexican? You may as well be Black."
Billy Zane was laughing. My mom did that to everybody. It was her effort to claim people and make them her own. "Irish? Hell, you may as well be Black". So my mom made lunch for Billy and me and we went walking. She made sandwiches because there's no cooking involved. We had lunchboxes. We went on an adventure. We went to the next village. Everyone was tall. Not just taller than me, 'coz that's easy. I mean everyone was TALL. Yao Ming tall. Shaq tall. Billy and I were nervous.
"Are they going to crush us?" He asked.
"Shut up, Billy," I answered.
We attracted a crowd somehow. One of the tall-town women came over. She slapped Billy across his pretty mouth. I didn't like that.
"You can't slap Billy Zane!" I said "Only I can do that!"
We circled each other and someone shouted: "They're breakdance fighting!"
I did the helicopter, I did some popping and locking. I spun on my head. She muttered her apologizes and walked away. I pointed my finger at the crowd, challenging the next person. No one came forward. Billy Zane and I stopped at the village square and ate our lunch in peace. The end.
Yes. I'm sleepy.
( Here's what really happenedCollapse )