I awoke this morning with a chill in my feet. There was a question bothering me: Who was Hal’s favorite musical artist, and why? This question and more, such as “where did I leave my socks last night?” troubled my brain as I wandered to the refrigerator. I opened it to find nothing other than my socks, wrapped around the butter dish. This led me to the question of “where the hell is the MILK??”. One question down, one gained, and still no sign of Hal’s favorite musical artist.

I grabbed a box of wheat thins and the can of EZ CHEEZ and laid down on my couch. The question of who stole my milk was really bugging me. I mean, seriously, what kind of cheap bastard comes over to his friend’s apartment and runs off with the milk while his friend is in a playstation coma? I bet it was Johnny, he’s rather cheap...is that GWAR on Jerry Springer? My mind was brought back to reality and out of milk-world to see that, yes indeed, it was GWAR (God, What an Awful Ruckus!) was on my least favorite talk show. They were showing clips of GWAR having Springer eaten on stage by a giant worm of some sort. “Hell yea! eat him!” thought I as I watched Jerry get swallowed by.....whatever that was. Could GWAR be Hal’s favorite band? No...it couldn’t be, Hal’s too normal of a guy. And he’s married. No person who has GWAR as a favorite band will ever meet a girl dumb enough to marry him. Who stole my damn milk!? TV wasn’t helping, so I peeled myself off my couch and went into the bathroom. Whilst taking the morning leak, I thought about taking a shower. “nah, it’ll break my concentration.” I thought, and that was the end of that silly thought. I grabbed my hat (my hair was QUITE a mess) and my jacket and headed out the door. I was almost late for my Political Science class I realized when I caught a glimpse of my watch while lighting the morning cigarette. I figured if I got there in time, Dr. Walker would hopefully shed some light on the “Hal’s favorite musical artist and why” dilemma. I get to class and sit next to my favorite empty chair and wait patiently for The Man to come out. After about 1.3 minutes he comes in sporting his “invisible man” outfit: Long trenchcoat, big sunglasses, fedora hat. The only thing The Man was missing was the bandages around his face. I would have been rather worried had he had those, though, as they would have meant one of two things: 1. He was in some sort of horrible chemistry experiment, and his face was badly burned. B. He was in some sort of horrible chemistry experiment, and he had turned invisible. Either way I felt bad for him because he would have had to have been involved in a chemistry experiment, and who really likes chemistry anyway? An hour and fifteen minutes pass by, and Dr. Walker doesn’t mention anything about Hal’s favorite musical artist. Just talked about the damn economy. Who cares about the economy when much more important things such as Hal’s favorite musical artist and why needed to be discussed?

As I walked out of the teacher formally referred to as The Man’s class completely heart broken, I was still plagued by the questions of the morning. I lit up another cigarette to help me think, and was amazed when it did help. I remembered what happened to the milk. We threw it out the window at some frat guy the night before. But it was Johnny’s idea, and he’s still a cheap bastard. We could have just as easily thrown his milk. “Hey man, how ya doin?” someone asked me as I walked by. I threw my cigarette at him. My mind was racing, I was beginning to go insane. Everywhere I looked there were visions of potential musical artists and why staring at me but directly beneath them were concrete reasons why they couldn’t be it. “He’s a fat man. No one likes fat man singers”, “She can’t wear a matching outfit to save her life”, “Are you serious? The guy hasn’t done anything reputable since WHAM!”. And in my head was Hal’s voice. Hal’s voice, driving me into insanity faster than you can spell righty-roo. “Name my favorite musical artist and why” Repeated through my head a thousand times. Nothing could kill the noise. My vision was so clouded and my ears so clogged with the voice of Hal and the images of potential favorite musical artists and why that I didn’t even notice that I was about walk into the busy road of cars going 15 mph, seriously. That’s what the sign says and everyone obeys it.
“Watch out!” I hear and the next thing I know I’m on the ground in the arms of the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. “You almost got hit by a car going 15 mph, seriously because that’s what the sign says and they always obey it!”
“Oh. thanks for...uh...saving me.” I respond, still shaken by the fact I was almost killed, and that I was still in the arms of a beautiful woman. “Say, you don’t happen to have Hal for psych lab, do you?”
“Yea, I do accually..why?”
“Cause I’m stumped about who his favorite musical artist is, and why..”
“Oh, well, I know in my class he raved about the new Bel Biv Devoe record for about the whole class.”
“Oh. Ok. Thanks. See ya later!” I waved goodbye to her and watched her walk into the sunset (if there was a sunset at the time). As she walked away and became smaller and smaller, I noticed a biker going in her direction. Neither of them noticed each other, and right before she walked out of site I saw the bicyclist run into her. Kind of ironic when you think about it.

So, Bel Biv Devoe, huh? The mystery was winding down. Hal’s favorite musical artist and why was becoming much more apparent by the minute. The man was obviously a big fan of polka, so the choice was apparent. Bel Biv Devoe couldn’t be his favorite musical artist and why because they were way too new to the polka scene (rumor has it that they used to be some sort of “hip hop” band or something...kinda discredits them to polka but we all do stupid things ya know...forgive and forget, that’s my motto). Hal’s favorite musical artist and why had to be none other than the King of Polka himself, Frank Yankovich. I quickly grabbed my notebook out of my bookbag and jotted down this wonderful knowledge before it left my brain into the air, as most brilliant ideas tend to do with me. As I was putting my notebook away I noticed I was not wearing any shoes. “Dammit!” I thought the day was finished with questions, but as usual fate’s cruel hand had dealt me another....hand? “Who the hell stole my SHOES?”