There’s a lot I could say at this juncture, Mitch. A whole lot… but I think I’ll just hold my tongue. Don’t want to spend time in a Kaztropharian jail if you don’t have to.
Oh, hi…. We’ve found our way to planet Kaztropharius 137b with both hands, as you might divine from that last bit of dialogue – the latest venue on our ENTER THE MIND: THE ULTIMATE BIG GREEN EXPERIENCE tour of the galaxy. How do you tour a whole galaxy exactly? Quite simple – just jump on the ship before we take off… next time. Right now we’re deep in the middle of nowhere, anchored to a planet that seems to like our music (something in the air, I think, makes it sound better up here… perhaps a hallucinogenic quality). Kaztropharius 137b (I think I’ve got that spelling correct) is a solid little globe with a nickel core. Molten nickel, I’m told – I can’t say for certain, since I’ve never been there, but it seems a reasonable assumption.
Our first couple of performances here were well received. The third, well… a little less enthusiastic. Okay, so now we’re borderline in trouble with the law on Kaztropharius 137b, and I’m not entirely sure why. It may have something to do with Mitch’s extracurricular activities while we’re busy on stage entertaining the natives. He and the two Lincolns tend to find their own entertainment, whereas Marvin (my personal robot assistant) keeps close to the band, ready to jump in when we forget a chord, or a lyric, or an entire song, perhaps. (He’s got this teleprompter screen he hangs around his neck for handy messaging… though just lately he seems to be running infomercials on the sucker.)
I don’t know – we probably just wore out our welcome. The Kaztropharians have always been fairly hospitable, even when Mitch made the mistake of sending us back through a time vortex to their Pleistocene era back when we visited here in September 2003. (Or was that their “plastocene” era? Not sure.) They didn’t get particularly sore at us, even if we inadvertently changes a few things about their remote history, like the evolution of certain essential plants and animals. (Hey… somebody should have labeled them. How the hell was I supposed to know?) Now Lincoln, Mitch, and company apparently have found another way to cheese them off.
Anywho, they want us gone, and who can blame them. Three nights worth of Big Green tunes and pretty much any of you would feel the same way. (Don’t all contradict me at once out there. Come on – throw me a freaking bone!)
