Our names will be in lights. Masses will throng together and cheer at our very appearance, their spirits buoyed, their humdrum lives made all the more exciting for having borne witness to our breathtaking display of skill and cunning. We will be household names, and we will be loved.
Tonight, May Day and I discovered our true calling. At the outset, it was a night like any other -- I got asked on a date by a cute guy, and May Day landed a great job for a cool company. So, the usual -- and then we settled down to watch Warrior Challenge on the Discovery Channel (yes, we can in fact watch the Discovery Channel; despite all evidence to the contrary, we are not completely devoid of any modicum of intelligence). Today�s challenge had to with Vikings, which was very cool.
May Day: I�m descended from Vikings!Me: Hey, me too!
May Day: Vikings were cool.
Me: Totally. But they were so pale. They probably had to wear a lot of sunscreen.
May Day: Actually, I think they wore a lot of sheepskin and animal pelts.
Me: That must have been hell at the beach.
Discovery Channel Announcer Guy: �and when the Vikings landed, they pillaged a monastery and slaughtered all the monks�
May Day: Dude! That is not cool! At all!
Me: You totally don�t kill monks!
May Day: No, you don�t!
Me: Like they wouldn�t lend you that shit if you just asked for it!
May Day: Besides, what are they going to do to you if they don�t like it? Hit you with an illuminated manuscript?
Me: Probably not. Those things are pretty expensive.
And following that particular challenge, we saw previews for the next challenge, which happens to be about gladiators. We were particularly dismayed on behalf of the poor sap who has to fight with the trident and the net, like, who thought up that combo? Why don�t you just send him into battle with a turkey drumstick and a target taped to his ass, for Pete�s sake? A fat lot of good a big mess of yarn and an oversized fork are going to do him against some guy with a broadsword and a riot shield. May Day and I decided that we would be pretty much roundly fucked as gladiators, and would rather have to try and avoid certain death by proclaiming ourselves jesters and trying to joke our way out of it. May Day offered up that she can juggle -- albeit not terribly well -- and I, while completely dispossessed of any such juggling skills at all, am something of an amateur hoofer in the vaunted soft shoe vein (and please interpret �amateur� to mean �what the fuck am I doing?�)
So we spent the rest of the evening working up a spectacular routine in which May Day juggles an entire carton of eggs (not necessarily at once) while I nimbly shuffle and tap my way through a chorus of �There�s No Business Like Show Business�, the both of us dressed in matching, spangled accoutrements. Then, when May Day shouts, �Bring it home!� we�ll burst into our furious climax, eggs and feet a blur, the crowd chanting our names, until we finally conclude with a stupendous finish (as yet undecided) that will leave everyone speechless! This will be performed periodically in such famous street venues as the 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica, the Strand at Venice Beach, and anywhere else where we can set up and close down before the cops can ask for our street performer�s license.
Everyone will know our names and we will become notorious, at once famous and infamous! Like that lady who has all those billboards, or that guy with the bowls on his head! Or that old, naked couple that play that electronic keyboard! Or�you know, somebody else who does stuff that�s unusual, and people know who they are because of it! We will be an indispensable part of the local culture, and we will be talked about for years to come.
Hey, and don�t forget to buy our CD! You know, if we make one.