Fighting Oprah

I was walking down the street the other day and saw Oprah and she told me to release my inner child. I told her my inner child is good for nothing but playing video games. Oprah's eyes filled with the devil and she made her stance - apparently we were about to duel. So I made my stance and shouted my war cry, and she in turn made hers.

We were both weary of making the first move -both of us being defenders. After a bit of awkwardness -lost on Oprah- I wound up and swung for her jaw. But the gnome was about her and like the speed of a blender she grabbed my death arm and swung me about by it and threw me head long into the brick wall, which subsequently crumbled and let loose a kingdom of rabid monkeys.

By this time a crowd had drawn, and because I was up against Oprah the crowd was not in my favour and they threw fermenting pineapples at me and worms and other food stuffs. I told them to shove it, but my good sense kicked in and told me I could not win a battle against the entire crowd, and would be best dealing with Oprah. But the monkeys, too, were on her side, and they in turn had taken their war stances.

I had battled monkeys before, but my head was spinning. Luckily I had some speed in my pocket that I was saving to shingle my roof, but decided to have it now, on account of the circumstances. To my chagrin, the speed was not speed, but finely crushed bread crumbs I'd been saving in case I'd ever seen the duck again. I was wearing the wrong pants! Could this day get any worse. In the sneezing fit that ensued Oprah had grabbed me by the hair and had given me a good shellacking.

She left with the crowd amidst shouts of world domination. The monkeys had sex with dogs and now the town is facing a "Mog" crisis - as they have been called. They are wily, but add tang to salads.