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Though Bea's eyes flew open,
Their sight wasn't right.
See the color TV was left playing all night.
Not that she noticed for all that she channeled
Was in the TV console; completely wood-paneled.
Beatrice grinned, her head stuffed with inanity.
Leaving her pillow - the Height of insanity!
And every school night she could view with impunity, 'cause -
from homework and testing she'd wangled Immunity.
Yes, With no one around she could watch all the shows,
not caring 'bout schoolwork 'cause in the next row.
. . .was Darnell, who made sure her grades were top notch.
It only took one little bottle of Scotch. (per month).
'Cause Darn was a hopped up computer type kid.
Hacking the 'puter was all that he did! (practically).
The booze, for his Dad, was a fete a complete -
So he could keep hacking and not have to eat (or anything).
Bea's Mom, 'La Sandy'
Got a great television, and
With time on Bea's hands, there was not much decision.
Only which channel to call to her gaze,
With Cable and Telestar beaming their rays...
[Sandra Beeman, could get her these elements,
Because of her job with a bigwig embezzler.]
~~~~~~~
Ahem...the rhyming shall begin again soon, but I feel it's time for the author and main character; myself and Beatrice, to set the record straight.
Now Bea is a sort of a latchkey type kid with a single Mom who works like, all the time. Dad was a phantom, a sad story of bastitudity and bad manners.
He'd left when Bea was almost four, and she did remember him, but chose not to speak of it to anyone. Except me. She told everyone he was died from a bad shrimp. (His girlfriend was short, what a kidder.)
Mom was pretty messed up too, but Bea liked her, maybe even loved her. But, she was too much like an older sister who'd gone away to college and was barely home. Without the cool clothes to borrow.
Ah, now the young lady wants to speak for herself. Make it short you.
Ahem. I was never any type of poor little 'Latch-key child', I'm proud to say. Just prematurely independent and plugged into the world. Unlike some authors I could mention. Short enough for ya?
Well, anyway...
...When Beatrice awoke and laying in bed,
She looked quite like she was prematurely dead.
But she was making up her mind.
Now, her mission was clear -
She'd simply find all of those channels in there!
She knew she was right, lying, still in her bed!
She pondered the shows with the sheets on her head.
Dreams are sort of like TV, that's plain to see,
But dreams didn't mess up our little friend Bea.
She'd never watched TV while sleeping before.
The people and products - contentment galore!
Now when Mom got home - with problems galore,
She shut the thing off, barely through the door.
But it was too late; she'd been out on a bender
To chat up her boss with more money to lend her.
Yes, It was just tooo l a t e !! Too late for Bea anyway.
'Cause late night TV is veddy, veddy different... ... ... ...
Ha - Ha- Ha - Haaaaahh!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The cathodes, that light that comes out of a set,
will play with your brainwaves, I'll make you a bet!
Now Dreamers and Snoozers, Insomniacs and all,
Know late night TV is like a really bad mall.
Selling you gizmos, and cure-alls and bunk;
Spaghetti detanglers and most of all, Junk!
And now little readers such is our fate,
We must now take time for a commercial break.
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You know Todd; I've always said the Only way to rid a room of stale pet odors
is to rid the room of stale pets.
But sometimes, this just isn't possible.
Not with certain pets. These pests, I means pets, not only refuse to
Leave, but will continue to smoke a cheap cigar!
In such cases, I insist that you try new 'I Cannot Believe It's a Pet Deodorant'
In roll-on or spray. Floral, Musk or New Gucci loafers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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And now, back to our story, describing the menace that is Late Night television.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Commercials get longer with breaks for the show,
Telling you what sponsors want you to know.
The mood when they catch you - you're not quite yourself -
And suddenly welding is good for your health!
Buying, they're buying, those people awake
Their minds haven't rested; in a bit of a flake.
They're begging you, 'Call us, don't sleep. Waste of time!
It's all guaranteed, it won't cost you a dime!'
Just give us that number, the one on your card!
Buy sharp sets of knives and cut off your lard!
Billy from Fromsy made killing his life,
When Visa was touching him more than his wife!
Operators Are Now Standing By,
They'll treat you like family. They'd never lie!
You will be the thinnest, most well endowed caller,
Buy a new mattress, a zinc melon baller!
Bea had to get to them, those people in there.
Her world was expanding, lighter than air.
The tube closed around her,
It felt kind of wet.
The first thing she saw was some kind of a set.
'Fill up her glass' said the guy in the chair.
'Take off her glasses and fluff up her hair.'
'Now say it with feeling, kid. You NEED this stuff!'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bea just looked down into the glass and saw bubbles and what looked like tiny fish with thick glasses. She was definitely not going to drink what was in the tumbler. The angry man in the canvas chair tapped his foot at high-speed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'What's going on? Who is this mess?
Tear up her contract, take her dress!'
~Bea was on the set of a commercial, but she didn't like it. Out the glass door she saw what looked like a shopping center designed by Salvador Dali. Like The Beverly Center in LA, but M.C. Escher had a hand in this too! Floors; infinite floors going up and up and up to forever.
When Bea walked out there, she was swooshed around good.
(This was not your ordinary neighborhood.)
She was zipped up and down and then, sideways sometimes.
So much flashed by her, in record time.
Colors, and tubes and pictures of horses.
Ladies in kitchens, discussing divorces.
It was too much, she could not take it in,
Then she saw an old man who was sporting a grin.
"Here you go!'he said , with a flourish of hands. Then whispered to himself, 'These kids! Their demands!"
The first thing she saw when she got to some place,
Were girls in tight outfits, earnest looks on their face.
Their answer, it seemed, to life's toughest questions,
Was calling some number on a rear projection.
'Pick Up' is easy! 'Pick Up' is fun!
Be sure to remember us to your first born son!
All chicks in velvet, tight pants and tops,
Lying, their hand giving their head a prop.
Drawling in a whispery king of a voice,
Saying, 'Just call the number, your date is your choice.'
Rolling her eyes to the top of her head, she saw something strange laying on a bed.
Mom? Is that you? What's going on?
To Be Finished!
