“This is Eggberthead Snuffington Worthless on location in Ireland. I am about to talk with one of the great megaliths here,” said the reporter, turning to a huge chuck of rock behind him, “Mr. Megalith…”
“Are you blind!?” screeched the rock, “I’m a Mrs.”
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. Please excuse my mistake,” stammered the reporter, “Mrs. Megalith, I hear you are the oldest megalith to be found. Is this true?”
“No, it ain’t. My husband is 3,000 years older than I am.”
“Oh? Where is he?”
“Sent to some place by the name of Stonehenge. Prob’bly some singles place.”
“Stonehenge? It seems that by the time he was drug there he’d be worn away to nothing.”
“Good heavens, man! He went air-mail!”
“Air-mail?” asked the confused reporter.
“Carrier pterodactyl.”
“But pterodatyls are extinct.”
“Thank heavens for that! Those things damaged us megaliths worse than the elements.”
“They attacked you?”
“No, you ninny! We were the closest things they had to statues.”
“Oh,” the reporter paused. “What do you think of the ancient Celts?”
“Those freaky nuts with the long stringy hair streaking around for no good reason at all, drawing squiggly lines all over the place? The dummies should have put some clothes on; they were so cold they were blue!”
“But they painted themselves blue.”
“They didn’t need to paint themselves blue! They were blue as ice anyway. You know why they’re referred to as ‘ancient’?”
“Because there aren’t any more?”
“Right! They all died of pnemonia because they ran around without any clothes on!”
“Uh…, I hope you don’t mind if I change the subject, but what was your impression of the Vikings?”
“They played a good game Sunday. Zipped right past the Packers.”
“I don’t mean the football team, I mean the ancient Vikings.”
“Oh, those beasts. They were the rudest, most domineering, uncultered creeps I’ve ever met!” the megalith hissed. “They ran around ransacking everything, guzzling Coors beer as if it were going out of style and grabbing all the good-looking girls they could get their grubby paws on!”
“You had Coors beer back then?”
“Of course! We had Coors, Budweiser, Schlitz; all the biggies. You know, that may be why they were so mean. Half had hangovers and were mad at the other half for making all the noise.”
“Well, yes, that could be true,” said the reporter. “Uh… one final question. Did you have Halloween a million years ago?”
“We didn’t have Halloween perse. We had a night called the Night out of Time on the eve of the new year. A bunch of freakies ran around in sheets and weird-o masks screaming and moaning, and stealing food. If the people wouldn’t let them steal the food they would cast a spell on them. Usually scared them to death. It got to where I became so annoyed I finally just took it up to myself to do something about it.”
“What’d you do?”
“I fell over on a bunch of them when they came running by. Squished them all over the place.”
“And that stopped the Night out of Time?” the reporter questioned.
“Sure it did. The ones that were left were scared out of their guords and died of fright. The only reason we’ve got Halloween now is because they came back to haunt me. Everybody thought running around in sheets and masks was cool so they joined in,” the megalith answered. The reporter paused, gave a look of utter hopelessness and turned to the camera.
“You heard it folks. This has been Eggberthead Snuffington Worthless on location in Ireland.”
Very funny, and not at all bad for 14. See, you have been great all along! 🙂