My day of Missoula Madness
By Mark Hebert, New West Unfiltered 9-28-06
My 24-hour tenure as King would start with a 7 a.m. Heavy Metal Concert – perhaps Motley Crue – in the bedroom of my in-laws home. It’s not so much that I enjoy Heavy Metal, but rather that my mother and father-in-law have been busting my nectarines for the past few months and I think it would be pleasurable to blast them from their early morning slumber with the Crue ripping into Shout at the Devil. Maybe Tommy Lee could slip Mom a French kiss and Mick Mars could shoot heroin while sitting on dad’s chest, but we’d have to see how things went.
After making my in-laws ears bleed, I’d proclaim the rest of the a.m. to be “Misuse Your Blinker, Get Slapped in Your Mouth Morning” and then set-up the area’s panhandlers at major intersections. The panhandlers would have the authority, all morning long, to pull people from their cars that don’t use their blinkers and, well, cuff them right in the kisser.
Ah, it’s good to be King.
For lunch hour, We (my royal court of ding-dongs and myself) would round-up every Missoula bike rider that has ever jumped into the middle of traffic and darted through a congested intersection, put them all in Washington Grizzly Stadium and make them pedal in 100-yard circles while spectators in the stands lob rotten vegetables at them …a veggie Thunderdome if you will.
For the next two hours of the day I’d have Missoula residents call the home phone numbers of Qwest employees and ask them if they’d like to upgrade their phone service.
During those two hours I’d also have the “students” that solicit “magazine subscriptions” in my apartment complex -- selling the subscriptions so they “can earn points” in order to “save the Unicorns in the Yucatan Valley” -- sit in the Missoula Public Library and read the smut they push.
I’d install (or rather have my lackeys install) green arrows on stop lights of every right or left turn in town.
I’d challenge Mayor John Engen to a foot race -- the looser would have to talk like Sean Connery for the rest of the day.
Missoulian Entertainment editor Jamie Kelly and I would play chicken with a lit cigarette, the looser would have to pick the toe-cheese out of Keith Richards’ feet when he arrives on the 4th.
For the kiddies, all day long, UM President George Dennison would dress-up like Eddie Muster – short boy shorts and all – and perform his on-man rendition of Grease. The employees at Finical Aid in the Lommasson Center would be forced to watch a 24-hour loop of Show Girls – keep me on hold for 45-minutes will ya?
My day as King would conclude with the long awaited Aber Day kegger where everyone will drink, eat and then ride naked through the town on golf carts while singing Johnny Cash tunes.
Now tell me, am I a King you’d re-elect?
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