September 2005: HERO PILLS

One of the sad things about people is that it sometimes takes an horrific disaster to make them appreciate what they have. The events of September 11th, 2001 inspired Americans to stop spitting on police and rescue workers, and start realizing how nice it is not being constantly shot at, or on fire, or having to personally sift through tons of rubble to find the remains of their own loved ones. Not me, though. I always thought of them as heroes; i didn't need no pair of buildings to fall on me to see what a valuable contribution they make to our society. Especially compared to, say, actors, or the television news media.

In fact, when i was little, i dreamt of becoming a fireman* -- that, or a genetic engineer. It turned out i didn't have enough drive, smarts, or stamina to do either one of those things. But now it seems there's hope for me, thanks to these light-hearted little choking hazards i got from a vending machine in the lobby of the Biograph Theater. A quick assessment of their most noticeable feature -- their diminutive size -- told me without a doubt that these things were designed to be taken internally. I mean, just look at 'em! Fortunately, a dose seems to be just one of them (as they had to be purchased separately), so i think i'll just do the red one. It's less pointy. Also, it looks happier, more competent, and less pimply.

Just imagine! No rigorous training, no job application process -- just one big swallow and BAM! I'm a hero! It almost seems too good to be true! Hey, wait a minute... maybe these things aren't designed to make me a rescue worker, but to cause some to be summoned. Just in case, i better put on some lipstick & change my clothes before i try it. That way maybe i win no matter what happens! Bottoms up!