CIVIL TOON-IONS


It was late. I was stoned and watching crappy TV - E!, Style Channel. Finally Space Ghost came home.

“Hello Earthling” he said in his deep Superhero voice. Naturally I melted as I quickly reached over to snag the last of the Pepperidge Farm Ginger Men. “Hey Space” I said to Mister Ghost as I bit off the head and limbs one by one.

Something was different, I could tell. I could read Space like he was physical, something in the way he materialized. Maybe because I’m human but I knew. I like to talk about our feelings.

“We need to talk” he says. This can’t be good. Superheroes don’t share. Trust me. Maybe we can.... I offered many a time after a sweet evening of passion. Space would just place one gloved finger over my lips.

“Oh, do we Space? Do we?” The pot made the words lose shape and I found myself fascinated by my lips. I came back to my senses, casually brushing granulated sugar off my belly before looking dramaticly away. How long has that bug been on the wall?

“I talked to Ned Flanders tonight at the gym”. I froze on the crisp sheets. Ned, that Buffed Strumpet. I hate her. All goody-goody and “Highdley-Ho”. Fake. Space Ghost Fucker.

“Cool” I reply. Cooly. Why couldn’t he talk to Barney Rubble? Hot-cha. Barney Husbear.

“Ned says he’d like to have dinner.” Duh. Dinner= I act coy and pretend I like you while I drool over your Boyfriend. Oh. Space Ghost, I love your mask! Whatever.

“If that’s what you want” I reply carelessly. I grab the latest Vanity Fair and pretended to burn holes in the pictures. Oh sure, some people can do it. Maybe I could stop eating dinner and then we couldn’t see Ned at all. Dinner is for pussies.

“He’s very nice.” Space adds. Nice = borrring. If I wanted “nice”, I’d go to the Gap. Nice is what you vaguely say about Those People in High School. Sure, anyone can get a body. Spiderman. Need I say more? Even the name Ned was dull. All constanants, like drip and thug.

Oooooo, I was so annoyed. I was thisclose from going all Yosemite Sam on his ass. However, not the wisest choice when your S.O. is a Superhero. I had to think quick. While Space is, you know, hot and all, he’s not the brightest light on the tree.

I turned my Smile Gun to Stun. “Maybe I could invite Barney? So Ned would have someone to talk to.” Yes. Score. I am the champ, I am the champ. “Can you feel it? Can you feel it, my funky sensation...” My Victory Dance needs a DJ! Stat!

“I think that idea is sensational”, he sternly pronounces. “Ned isn’t really my type”.

I look up quickly, my moist eyes locking with the white spots where his eyes would be. Awwww. That was so sweet. He really does love me. Awww. What was I thinking? Ned Flanders. Please. Those kids of his, brrrrrr. My Mr. Ghost and Ned a couple? Oh brother.

“Whatever you want Space.” I close the magazine and smile. My Big Boo-Boo. Ghosty Wosty. Mr. and Mr. Space Ghost. Hugh Ghost.

“Oh, they’re the Ghosts. Nice couple. Don’t go out alot but seem very happy. Oh, and get this, they have a dog. A real dog. Polly. I’m telling you, these Real Dogs are going to be the end of actors like Scooby. It’s a shame. Still, they’re good people.”



12:11:49 PM    sro home /