"Mother, father, I don't know you!" These were the words I said when my biological parents Dip Sung and Qua Si Chow came to visit me last year. "They sure are short for German people," I thought. "Why does mom have corn rows?" I pondered. But I knew why, I knew all too well, ever since... the circus. One day, when I was only 4 years old, I told my adopted parents, a one-eyed midget, and three-legged polar bear named Mitsy, that I was going to be a circus chimp. "This is going to be great," I thought. My parents were very supportive and mom even gave me some vermin and diseases to get me started. It didn't take me long to meet with the circus because they had currently been touring various parts of my back yard. I caught them mid-show with a packed house. There wasn't a seat to be found on the swing set. "This is my chance," I realized. "I just hope they like their chimps albino, " my inner monologue confided to me in a voice strikingly similar to that of Daniel Stern's. "Ooook!" I shrieked as I chimped my way on stage. Once there, I did what any circus chimp would do. I held my own feces and threw it at the crowd. "They really like me!" I thought, as the police handcuffed me. When I got to the station, they fingerprinted me. But the good part was, I didn't even have to use ink! They put in all of the other people charged with illegal use of projectile excrement without a license. "Hi, Pee-Wee!" I shouted when I saw that I got to share a cell with my idol. "I didn't know he visited prisons," I concluded. "I sure am scared, Mr. Herman!" I confided.
"Don't worry, kid. You wanna lick the elephant for luck? HAHA!" he comforted.
"But the cops took me away from the circus," I reminded him. Then night came. I had to bunk with Pee-Wee. He called top bunk. Needless to say, I was in love. Pee-Wee and I broke out and eloped the next day. We used assumed names. Mine was Wanda, his was Paul. We bought a two-door house with lawn and seventeen children. One night, Paul came home late and had corn rows. "And where were you, Mr.?" I asked politely.
"Out." he bellowed. "Out in, uh... Germany."
"Oh." I said. "I guess I'd better get going then." I shrugged.
"Right you are, then," he said in his best British accent. I went back to my adopted parents and boy, were they mad.
"You married Pee-Wee Herman and didn't invite us?!?" They cried. "Just for that, you have to go to the most God-forsaken high school in all of America!" I just have one thing to say- Pee-Wee, I love you.
Written by Joseph Earl Linnell. Approved by Joe Farley.
