Nocturnal Admissions – 3/5/02 …...
We were living in a small farming community in the Midwest. “We” being Gina, myself, and a large group of unnamed hangers-on. Oddly enough, Gina and I were the proud owners of a sizeable dairy farm. We lived on some land with a magnificent farmhouse, a barn, several silos, lots of hay, and cows as far as the eye could see. There wasn’t much to the town other than our picturesque little farm…not much, that is, except for a GIANT nuclear power plant. The nuclear power plant was situated on the outskirts of the city limits, but was so large and obtrusive that you could see it from anywhere in the town. We had an especially good view of it from our cute little wraparound porch. One evening after a hard day working the fields, Gina and I were sitting on the porch swing sipping lemonade. All of a sudden there was a blinding flash of light and atop one of the cylindrical towers in the center of the Nuclear Power Plant there was a glowing red orb. It appeared to have sprouted out of the center and was growing ever larger by the moment. All of a sudden, all of our cows began coughing and sputtering and falling to the ground. Moos could be heard for miles around. One cow remained standing however, and Gina ran into the field to save it. She led the cow up to the house, and the three of us went immediate inside and turned on the TV to find out what was going on. The talking head on the TV screen told us that the Power Plant had been taken over by Russians. The Russians had planted a nuclear bomb inside of the power plant and were threatening to set it off if we didn’t meet their demands. (Their demands were never stated…it was just made clear that we should meet them). For some ridiculous reason, the Russians had implanted the trigger to set off the bomb in two unnamed people who resided in the town. One of these residents had already been kidnapped and was being held in the power plant. The other resident was currently being sought after. (Please note that this doesn’t make any more sense to me than it does to you. I’m simply reporting the craziness that my subconscious created.) According to The Russians, in order for this bomb to go off, the two carriers of the trigger had to hug each other. Upon hugging, the bomb would go off and destroy the world!!! True, it’s an odd and somewhat unreliable way to set a bomb off, but Russians are unconventional people, and they felt it would really make a statement.
Gina, the cow, and I, all looked at each other with tears in our eyes. What would happen to us? Why were the Russians picking on the residents of this sleepy little town? Who is the carrier of the second trigger? Why were we sitting in our living room with a very large dairy cow? At that very moment, there was a knock on the door. I looked outside and saw several imposing black sedans, and a large man in a fur hat standing on the porch. “Oh god…it’s one of us. One of us has the second the trigger,” I whispered. Gina and I frantically searched our clothing and bodies for this “trigger.” While searching, a flashing red light caught my eye. I looked up and realized there in Bessie’s cowbell was some sort of electronic device with a flashing red button. “NO!!! Not Bessie!!” Gina whispered loudly. Without another word, Gina selflessly slipped the cowbell off of Bessie’s neck, and hung it on around her own. “I won’t let Bessie be a part of this. I WON’T!” she said, and took off running out the back door toward the Nuclear Power plant. I followed quickly after her, leaving a very confused Bessie sitting on our living room floor.
I caught up with Gina about halfway across the field. She was quietly weeping next to one of her precious cows…now passed on to that great pasture in the sky. She gently patted its snout, and vowed to get the bastards who did this to her herd. I pledged my loyalty to the “cause” as well. We both looked back longingly at our quaint little farmhouse, now swarming with men in fur hats, and set off toward the Power Plant, the red orb growing bigger and bigger by the moment.
As we neared the power plant, we realized that in order to get to the plant itself, we had to cross a raging river. Weighing all the options, we decided the best thing to do would be to steal the boat that was sitting at the dock. Granted this was the only option available to us, but seemed to be a good one regardless. We hopped onto the boat, which conveniently had the keys in the ignition. Gina, claiming to know how to drive a boat, plopped down in the captain’s chair and started the engine. She started out onto the raging river. Clearly her skills at the helm were quite exaggerated, as we immediately capsized and found ourselves heading quickly down the raging river, flailing and kicking all the way. All of a sudden, Norm Macdonald from Saturday Night Live appeared at our sides. Strangely enough, he was swimming along very smoothly and was able to give us instruction on how to maneuver to the shore of the river. With Norm’s guidance, we smoothly made it to the other side. He pointed out that HE was the owner of the boat, and had been watching us all along. He had originally set after us in an effort to stop us from stealing, but after we capsized, decided to save our lives. You see, there was a Niagara Falls Sized waterfall directly in our path, and we were headed for a sure death. After explaining to Norm why we had stolen his boat, he forgave us quickly and gave us directions to the power plant. As Norm’s curly head faded into the distance, we realized that there was a beat-up red Camero coming down the road from the other direction. Figuring that no respectable Russian Soldier would be caught dead driving a beat up red Camero, and realizing that we were very tired and needed a ride, we figured it was safe and we flagged the car down. It came to a stop about 100 feet from us and out stepped what can only be described as “Hippie Teenagers.” “Oh god….its hippie teenagers,” Gina gasped. “They’re bad news for sure.” The Hippie Teenagers explained that they were in cahoots with the Russians and that they had been sent to take us prisoner and deliver us to the power plant. I began to walk toward them, and quickly realized that we could most likely escape with relative ease. Granted, there were three of them and only two of us, but since they appeared to be armed only with dreadlocks, hemp necklaces, and a mellow attitude, we made a run for it. Seeing that it would take a concerted effort to follow and capture us, and remembering that large bell-bottomed jeans make running difficult, the “Hippie Teenagers” retreated to their Camero and dejectedly drove off. (Russian Soldiers take note for future reference: Hippie Teenagers are NOT the best employees, especially when the job in question is “Kidnapper.”)
We trudged along for quite some time, and finally made it to the entrance of the Power Plant and went inside. Directly inside the door was the second person that carried the “trigger” to set off the bomb. He was tied up with thick rope, and was wearing a bag over his head. He was also holding in his hand a white flag. I ran over to the captive, and pulled off the bag, revealing Nathan Lane of “The Producers” fame. He thanked us profusely for saving him and wept as we untied his hands and feet. He handed us a note that his Russian Captors had given him. It said simply, “We Surrender.” Shockingly, the trauma appeared to be over. It was never explained exactly why the Russians had surrendered. It seemed to me that they had given up rather easily. I mean really….How could Russia have been intimidated by two pretty little dairy farmers like Gina and I? Why would we intimidate them? It seemed to be quite an elaborate scheme to hatch, only to surrender right away. Regardless of the motives behind the surrender, it was evident that we had won the day.
As I’m sure you can imagine, Nathan Lane’s fame reached a pinnacle following the kidnapping. One of the big networks even awarded him his own talk show. Naturally, he asked Gina and I to be his first guests. Instead of filming his show in a traditional studio in New York City or LA, Nathan decided to broadcast from the very town that had catapulted him to super-stardom. He came to us when it was time to build the studio, and purchased one of our dilapidated old barns. He quickly renovated it and turned it into a high tech set, with the nuclear power plant as a backdrop. We used the proceeds from the sale to purchase a new herd of dairy cows. We were back in business in no time at all.
Gina and I arrived at the studio on the day of “The Nathan Lane Show’s” premier excited, but quite nervous. There was an odd foreboding feeling in the air. We both sensed it. The show began quite innocently. Nathan filled his audience in on what he’d been up to, told a few jokes, danced a little dance, and then promptly introduced us to the audience. We chatted amicably or a few moments, Gina told everyone how well Bessie was doing, how our business had revived itself despite the death of our entire herd, and so on and so forth. It was when Nathan asked Gina why she was wearing a cowbell around her neck that things turned serious. Gina had taken to constantly wearing the cowbell around her neck. She felt it brought her good luck and its presence would always remind her of her own strength and determination. (It also made a terrible racket, but I let it slide, as she was very emphatic about her desire to wear the bell.) The interview came to a close and Nathan bid us adieu. I stood up, gave him a hug, and began to walk off. It was at that point that I realized that it was very likely that no one had removed the “triggers” to the nuclear bomb from Nathan, and Gina was still wearing that stupid cowbell. (Quite an oversight by the US Government I know, but hey…what do you expect from such a organization?) I turned around slowly, only to see Gina and Nathan reaching towards each other for an embrace. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” I screamed. But it was too late. As Gina and Nathan embraced, there was a loud rumbling noise. The red orb atop of the Power Plant once again began to grow and before we knew it, the Power Plant was engulfed in a giant Mushroom Cloud that was rising towards the sky. Lucky for us, when renovating the barn into a TV studio, Nathan had built it to Bomb Shelter specifications. (He was understandably paranoid, having gone through what he did.) After the Mushroom cloud subsided, we looked outside into the pasture. It was barren, and it appeared that the whole town was gone. Naturally, the cows were dead once again. (Poor cows can’t catch a break here.) Luckily Bessie was in the studio with us, and her life was spared again. I looked over at Gina as she was slowly removing the cowbell from around her neck. I think it goes with out saying that she felt slightly bad about this unforeseen turn of events. I tried to reassure her that it wasn’t her fault, that she should have been warned that the bell was still dangerous. Her response to me was: “Damn. Do you know nuclear winter lasts for 6 years?” The End.
