Monday, December 5, 2011
I’m too late. By the time I get home Ala has made a deal with this big TV Production Company called No Name No Pain. I try arguing with her, but you know Ala when she makes up her mind. The TV Company plans a multi million dollar wedding and promotion for Ala and I, which includes paying us each five hundred thousand dollars an episode for our new reality series starting with the wedding. They offer the same fee to Johnworld to participate. I have a bad feeling about this.
The wedding of the century as it is featured takes place one month later at the Saint Ludicrous Ballroom in NYC. Ala looks beautiful in an Aqua Blue wedding gown. I wear an all white tuxedo. Think I look stupid. I know I’m White and Ala is Blue. What’s the point?
Johnworld arrives with his steady girlfriend, Anna, in a pink tuxedo jacket with white linen pants and purple patent leather loafers. He immediately goes over to a large potted palm tree that is guarding the entrance to the ballroom, unzips his fly and urinates at the base of the palm tree on national TV. I’m so humiliated. Ala explains to me it’s a custom of the Magentas to mark what they perceive to be their territory. I though animals do that.
All twenty-eight of our Magenta grandchildren—four of Johnworlds ladies had twins—are dressed in pink tuxedo jackets, white linen shorts and little pink or blue patent leather loafers depending on whether they are boys or girls. Although they are all less than one year old, they look and act like seven year olds. They sit quietly through the ceremony with their mothers and grandparents. Then they start marching around the dance floor and the tables in some type of herd mentality marking their territories as their father did and shouting, “We are coming. Their mothers and grandparents look startled as do the rest of the Human guests.”