From: jpalmer@magnus.acs.ohio-state.edu (John D Palmer)
Subject: A birthday for a dear friend. . .
Organization: The Ohio State University
Date: Sat, 22 Aug 1992 05:12:21 GMT

      John walks in, his backpack looking heavy, and with numerous burdens
in his arms.  Bill gets up to help him move them over to a table.

      "Thanks, Bill. . . wow."

      "What's this?"  Bill asks, opening a bag. . . . "Chopsticks?"

      "Nope, no piano music. . . eating utensils. . . the only eating utensils
allowed for this meal."  John replies, as Bill throws a pair of chopsticks at
him.  John catches them, smiling his standard wicked grin.  Then he starts 
unpacking chinese food from his backpack, and any and all patrons who can 
eat with chopsticks or at least give it the old college try are invited.

     "Fried wontons, John?  You know how I feel about them!"  Bill says.

     "Hey, it's that 800 year old chinese culture, Bill. . . and fried 
wontons are probably 800 years old. . . " John grins back.

     "That's 8000 years, John."

     "Wow. . . if I had known the wontons were THAT old. .  ."  John says,
as bill shakes his head in mock consternation.  (Whatever the heck
consternation is. . . )

      "But anyway, people. . .  "  no one listens.  John raises his voice,
"OKAY PEOPLE!"  and still, the people are in rapt conversation.  John sighs.
Pulls off his outer clothes to reveal
 
 
     A pink sportcoat. . . a green leather tie. .  . black sequined pants. . .

"BABY!  Oh, baby, I gotta hot little numbuh for ya heah!  This here, we're 
talking a rap group gig that's gonna blow your socks off.  . or is that
blow your groceries out?  I can't remember. . ." and people look on in 
horror. . . because if the manager is here, how far away can . . . 

"They're rude. . .  

     "They're crude. . .

       "They have NO talent. . .  

      "The Spinal Tap of Rap. . . 

     MC RAY AND THE 2 BLU CROO!  (But isn't Bill still eating chinese food?)

     Beat box walt, looking like an arab terrorist, begins pumping out a beat
that can't be. . . uhhh. . .outdone.  Kent, that guy with the horn starts
playing his. . . well, playing.  And the MC himself, dressed in skin tight
black spandex, a leather jacket, and nearly 4,329 gold chains, moves out,
to bring forth the rap. . . 


     Happy birthday. . . to you
     I say, happy birthday. . . to you!
     I say happahappahappa happahappahappahappahappy birthday. . . TO YOU!


     Happy birthday to my buddy named Bill - in
     A real def dude he'll never be illen
     Thinking great thoughts like you'll never see. . . 
     Jus' like a major in Phil-oso-phee.

 
     Happy birthday. . . to you
     I say, happy birthday. . . to you!
     I say happahappahappa happahappahappahappahappy birthday. . . TO YOU!

    He's a lotta things, when you look straight to the end
    A wise young guy and certainly a friend
    Bill is the man, and make no mistake. . . .
    Keep him sittin' there 'til he can cut the cake. . .  


     Happy birthday. . . to you
     I say, happy birthday. . . to you!
     I say happahappahappa happahappahappahappahappy birthday. . . TO YOU!

    

     The crowd goes wild, seeming to want to just put (or is that get?)
their hands on this great legend. . . until the buzzer sounds, and John's
xerox card shows a zero balance. . . and the great xerox of the great 
musician fades.

      Bill gets up, slowly.  "John. . . I told you I didn't want a fuss
for my birthday. . . and that's okay. . . you got this one.  But I'll have
my revenge."

     "Oh yeah?  How. . . ?"  John asks, having reverted to his normal. . . 
well, back to what he normally wears.

     "Ever try to eat cake with chopsticks?"  Bill asks, grinning evilly
himself. . . as John realizes in horror that Bill had indeed insisted on
a chopstick only night.  Maybe there'll be LOTS of frosting. . . 

                                             John

-- 
"Love is cool; I mean, like, really cool.  Like, the coolest thing in
the universe, where, like, people open up inside and show the world how
they feel, and they ain't afraid someone's gonna laugh because they, like,
love themselves already!"  --Personality 42, a generic 60's philosopher 
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