It's All Good

I had to roll the window down after that. It was just too much and my eyes were streaming with tears. I coughed, and while the radio went from one hit song to another, began to gag furiously.

A mile later, I still hadn't recovered. I pulled over onto the shoulder and, squinting into the desert sun, got out of the Humvee. It somehow seemed appropriate that the newest substitute for gasoline should be belching out of the earth in gaseous form, just like oil did so many years ago. But if I didn't get an air freshener in here soon, I would pass out for sure.

Unless, it occurred to me, I could fashion a makeshift oxygen tank. But where would I find any untainted molecules within a fifty mile radius? Think, I said, still gagging now and then - feeling faint and gaseous at the same time... "Must-not-add-to-it" I gritted through clenched teeth.

[Cont'd] The urge passed. What was I thinking! I had plenty of air left in the spare tank in the back of the Humvee. I sprinted back to the vehicle, still holding my breath, but when I got to the car and opened the back hatch, all I could find was a bunch of jumper cables and a note from my mother! "Hope this finds you well..." it began. Eyeing the now-turquoise sky, I flashed on how hot it might get later in the day - a maddeningly cliche cow skull grinned at me in response.

I took a deep breath - big mistake. My head swam, my eyes rolled back, and then suddenly I found myself in a lavender world in the middle of a lavender field, laughing and crying alternately. Then I jumped back to land on a lavender frog, who blandly informed me that "This is my square foot, please!" I stared at him, startled speechless. He went on: "Your feet are extremely odd." If my mind could have gone more blank, I would have dropped to the ground in a dead coma. I gaped. I could feel the drool pooling in my mouth, and thought: I really must think of something to say.

"How rude," the frog sniffed, "This is how you return my compliment?" [Drip, drip] My inner monologue continued unabated, "If only I had a dancing baby... Sigh!"

"A dancing baby? A dancing baby what?" the frog inquired. I was shocked back to relative consciousness by the realization that the wondrous, monstrous beings of this world could read my mind. It was almost a relief, since I still couldn't get my lips to move in response to his conversation.

When my powers of speech returned, the first thing out of my mouth was, " You smell better than where I come from."

"Here's a tip-" the frog answered, "-you're still there, even if your mind has made the leap." The frog chortled. "The leap! Get it? I crack myself up!"

As if in response, cracks started forming in the frog's skin. "Aaaagh," cried the frog, "Now look what you made me do!"