Monday, April 26, 2010

The Healing Powers of Hog Feces

THIS IS THE KIND OF PERSON I AM. When I see the headline "Police find suspect neck-deep in liquid manure pit," I read the story.

The pit was filled with a combination of hog and dog feces, and the suspect had been there for at least an hour. Now, I'm sure this guy thought, "the cops will never look for me here." I'm sure he thought he was being an amazing criminal mastermind. Which only makes him more fantastic in my mind.

But what you really have to admire about this guy, other than his crippling meth addiction naturally, is his tenacity. After the cops found him in the feces pit [new band name alert!], he still became combative with them and had to be shocked twice with a stun gun. Twice.

So after an hour soaking in a pool of hog and dog feces, this guy's will was so indomitable he still fought back. That hour in the poo didn't dampen his spirit at all.

I have to think that there's a Trading Places type of movie that starts with this guy's story, then a modern day Don Ameche and Ralph Bellamy give each other a knowing look. And one of them says, "That's exactly the type of spirit we're missing at the executive level!" They clean up the meth addict and teach him how to manage the company, in a montage set to Fountains of Wayne's "Bright Future in Sales." For some reason Hector Elizondo is there tutoring him.

Our hero succeeds. (Of course!) But there's something missing, an emptiness he feels. And despite the fancy clothes, expensive cars and scads of money, he still spends nights in his penthouse apartment staring out the window and sighing deeply.

"What is it, baby?" asks one of his many prostitutes.

"Nothing," he says, forcing a smile. "Nothing at all. Now remind me, how much for a rusty trombone?"

"Usually $200," she smiles. "But you seem so sad tonight, how about this one's on me?"

He touches her face. "Thank you."

Then, the night of the big board meeting, the guy bolts from the room, in the middle of his presentation. He rushes out of the room, down the elevator and to his waiting limo.

"Take me to this address!" he shouts as he gives his driver a slip of paper.

"Yessir! Immediately, sir!" comes the reply.

Back in the boardroom it is chaos. The oldest, stodgiest board member harangues Don Ameche and Ralph Bellamy. "What have you gotten us into? We trusted this crazy experiment of yours! If he isn't back here in thirty minutes, I will have no recourse but to remove you both from the board of directors!"

"But our father started this company!" Don Ameche says.

Now it's a car chase! Don Ameche and Ralph Bellamy's limo chasing our hero's limo! But where are they going? Out of the city? What could possibly be way out here in the country?

"Oh no," Ralph Bellamy says. "He couldn't. He wouldn't."

But he is. Our hero's limo stops at a hog farm and he gets out, breathes deeply and smiles, for the first time in a long time.

The limo driver flinches a little at the smell, then asks, "Do you want me wait for you, sir?"

"No, you're free to go, Jenkin-Jeeves. Thank you for being such a good friend."

Our hero then walks, head held high, toward the feces pit. He strips off his tailored suit as he walks. He's smiling. A tear of joy in the corner of one eye.

Don Ameche and Ralph Bellamy's limo pulls up and they both get out and cover their noses and mouths with fancy silk handkerchiefs. "Why didn't you stop him?" they ask the limo driver.

"I don't know," Jenkin-Jeeves says. "He just looked so happy.

David Bowie's "Heroes" plays on the soundtrack as our hero, now stripped naked, marches into the feces pit. He stops once he's buried up to his neck. The camera pushes in on his face.

We know he's finally home.

The End.

Then, of course, the hilarious and obligatory outtakes as the credits run.

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