As we open upon our scene, imagine that we are in the fringes of the
Sonoran desert, on the California/Nevada border.  It is night.  The flat,
gravely ground bordering the road is dotted with low growing cacti and
twisted puffs of sagebrush.  There is no wind, and no moon.  All is
still, even the tumbleweeds are at rest.
 
Off in the distance, though, coming from the west, there is a faint but
steady chugging sound, growing inexorably closer.  We can smell a whiff
of diesel in the air, now.  Finally, a dark, roughly rectangular shape
comes into view.  It is rolling steadily along the worn two lane blacktop
at fifteen miles an hour, in eighth gear.
 
It is a 1949 John Deere tractor, a mud spattered green and yellow, as it
has traveled long and far and hard through storms and mud and road salt.
Now, it is returning from Hollywood to its' New England home, its'
mission complete.
 
The camera zooms in on it, and there on the battered yellow seat we see
two weasels, standing side by side.  It is Switch the Kit and Hurricane
Lily.  Their four soft little paws rest easily on the lower curve of the
tractor's black bakelite steering wheel.  Their gaze is fixed upon the
distance toward the east, where the sun will rise in a few more hours.
 
The camera zooms in a little tighter, and we see that they are smiling.
Not just smiling, but grinning hugely.  Switch's grin incorporates a
glint of white fang in the upper right corner.  Lily's eyes are crinkled
with amusement at the corners, her smile shows many, many sharp little
teeth.  Their eyes glitter with mirth.  They look weary from their long
journey, grimy with road dust, but supremely content.
 
Several feet ahead of them, on the snout of the tractor, smack on its'
grill, something small flutters and flaps as the machine chugs along.
A scrap of fabric, a few strings, bungee corded in place.
 
It is Ben Stiller's thong.
 
Alexandra in MA
[Posted in FML issue 4395]