What is wrong with the local news? What is wrong with me? The lead story tonight is:
“THE TOUCHING REUNION OF A BOY AND HIS MISSING IGUANA!”
Worse, so much worse, I am watching it. In my defense, my mouth is hanging open, perhaps never to be shut again. Now, true, the iguana, named (seriously) “Fred Green,” had been missing for several days, causing, I guess, much hand-wringing in the hopeless weirdo community, but, c’mon, people! It’s a hideous, scaly, soulless reptile!
This is our Top Story. And yes, I guess I am touched, watching that boy take Fred into his arms, watching Fred return the embrace with those ghastly, clicky claws. I am feeling feelings.
Right now, they’re interviewing the boy’s mother, who is thanking everybody for their prayers. What? Did I miss the vigil? I’m sorry, lady. Forgive me. I did not pray for Fred Green. I do not pray for critters. Perhaps St. Francis interceded on ol’ Fred’s behalf. But I did not, because I’m a selfish, heartless, practical shrew.
Now the interviewer breathes this last question:
“What is going to happen to Fred Green now?!”
Hm. Perhaps he should be punished for running away. Teach that mini Godzilla some personal responsibility.
Iguana Parmigiana sounds good to me. I hear it tastes like chicken.