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.There was a lump rising in his throat.Ronald Phipps had grown up on Sam Beasley.Every Sunday night, he had watched The Marvelous Realm of Sam Beasley in hisfire-engine-red Dr.Denton's.He had collected Sam Beasley Comics andCartoons.Colored in Mongo Mouse and Screwball Squirrel coloring books, withSam Beasley-brand crayons.If it bore the flourishing signature of Uncle SamBeasley, Ronald Phipps had collected it.The first time he had visited Beasley World was akin to a religiousexperience.He was nine.By the age of eleven he had been to Beasleyland andBeasley World what seemed a million times.He liked Beasley World better.Itwas bigger and-more to the point-he could go more often.Ron Phipps lived justoutside of Furioso, Florida, Vacation Center of the Galaxy, site of SamBeasley World.When he reached high school age and other boys were discovering cars and beerand girls, Ron Phipps spent his weekends at Sam Beasley World.After high school, he horrified his parents by announcing that he wasn't goingto Yale after all.He had applied to a much more exclusive institution."I'm going to be a greeter at Sam Beasley World," he announced proudly.His father glared.His mother broke down.His younger sister asked, "Does thatmean you can get me in for free?"Ultimately, his disappointed parents had not stood in his way.They thought itwas just a phase.It would pass.And Yale would still be there next year.They were wrong.The day he first donned the furry costume and oversizedlop-eared head of Wacky Wolf, Ron knew he had found his true calling.Butbeing a greeter, he discovered, was not quite as much fun as being a greetee.There were rules, and violators could be summarily fired.One could neverappear in public out of costume.Or with one's character head removed.Onemustn't speak.One must be unfailingly polite and kind.Once a greeter dressed as Screwball Squirrel had come upon a little girl whohad fallen into the Phantom Lagoon.As her parents watched helplessly, thelittle girl splashed and cried piteously for rescue.The Screwball Squirrel greeter had doffed his bucktoothed head and plunged in.He pulled the girl to safety and after applying mouth-to-mouth, brought heraround.The crowd had applauded the man.Page 63 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlThe CEO had hauled him onto the carpet within the hour.As Phipps later heard it, the CEO opened up the confrontation with a curt,"You're fired!""But sir, I saved a little girl from drowning.""And removed your squirrel head.That wasn't necessary.""I had to resuscitate!""You could have done it through the mask, or let the parents do their own CPR.You stepped out of character, and worse, you deprived the organization of awonderful public relations bonanza.""Sir?""A ton of tourists took photos of you giving mouth-to-mouth.Had you kept yourhead on your shoulders, we could have had that photo run in everything fromPeople to Isvestia, furthering the glorious Beasley legend.""But-""We're selling fantasy here, and you popped the bubble! Can you imagine thatlittle girl's trauma when you took your Screwball Squirrel head off?""She was unconscious!""Turn in your tail and pick up your last check."When Ron Phipps heard the story from the tearful greeter that very same day,he wondered aloud, "What would Uncle Sam have said if he could have seen it?""The same thing the CEO did," the greeter overseer said." 'You're fired.'Keep that in mind, Phipps."Ronald Phipps did.He never, never wanted not to be a part of Sam BeasleyWorld.So when the demands on him increased, he made sure he was equal tothem.If the organization said to dump that old lady out of a Beasley-ownedwheelchair, he did so.If a fellow worker grumbled about working in"Mouseschwitz," he turned him in.None of it was what Ronald Phipps hadthought Beasley World stood for, but orders were orders.But this."You all know how to use these things," the security overseer was saying, inthe underground dressing rooms where all the cartoon costumes were stored.Phipps accepted the short-barreled machine pistol, with its oversized triggerguard so he could slip his padded wolf's-paw fingers inside.The weapon feltenormously heavy.The overseer went on."We always knew that terrorists would one day try to penetrate Sam BeasleyWorld, symbol of all that is America.You've trained for this day.You'reprepared for this day.Now that day is here."Ron Phipps looked around, and saw a disturbing sight.Screwball Squirrel wasbrandishing an Ingram.Mother Goose had a pump-action shotgun.Everyone hadknown about the potential Cuban threat, but it was incredible that BeasleyWorld actually had been targeted.The overseer said Cuban terrorists hadalready penetrated the park."Rule number one is 'Aim at your target and hit what you aim at.' " remindedthe overseer."Rule number two is 'Try not to damage the attractions,' " he added."Thereare only two terrorists.This should be a walk in the Haunted Grove, so tospeak."There came nervous laughter from a dozen happy heads, as they marchedsingle-file to the freight elevator that would take them topside to theirrendezvous with destiny.Remo followed the Master of Sinanju through Sam Beasley World, a dull,stricken look on his face."This isn't happening," he said under his breath.Then Chiun's squeaky voice called out, "Look, Remo! Wacky Wolf! Let us ask thebefuddled canine the way."Remo looked up.The Master of Sinanju had veered off toward Horrible House, aLouisiana Gothic mansion whose shuttered windows held ghoulish faces."Hold up, Chiun.I don't think we should take anything for granted here.""Yoo-hoo, Wolfie!" called Chiun.Page 64 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlAnd to Remo's horror, the giant form of Wacky Wolf dropped to one knee andbrought up the muzzle of an Ingram submachine gun.The weapon blatted nasty sound and a tongue of fire.The Master of Sinanju leaped high in the air, over the scream of bullets thattore past Remo's dipping shoulder and perforated a child-size Ferris wheel.The creaking seats rocked and swayed, some dangling, damaged.The Master of Sinanju landed atop the Wolf's funny hat.The head jammed downwith a dull, mortal crack, and the rest of the creature folded to theimmaculate cobblestones.Chiun stepped off the corpse, frowning."Obviously some of the inhabitants have not been informed that Sinanju nowrules their happy domain," he sniffed.Remo stopped to lift off the absurd wolf's head.The face revealed wasunexceptional.Remo replaced it, sick.The guy looked barely twenty [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.There was a lump rising in his throat.Ronald Phipps had grown up on Sam Beasley.Every Sunday night, he had watched The Marvelous Realm of Sam Beasley in hisfire-engine-red Dr.Denton's.He had collected Sam Beasley Comics andCartoons.Colored in Mongo Mouse and Screwball Squirrel coloring books, withSam Beasley-brand crayons.If it bore the flourishing signature of Uncle SamBeasley, Ronald Phipps had collected it.The first time he had visited Beasley World was akin to a religiousexperience.He was nine.By the age of eleven he had been to Beasleyland andBeasley World what seemed a million times.He liked Beasley World better.Itwas bigger and-more to the point-he could go more often.Ron Phipps lived justoutside of Furioso, Florida, Vacation Center of the Galaxy, site of SamBeasley World.When he reached high school age and other boys were discovering cars and beerand girls, Ron Phipps spent his weekends at Sam Beasley World.After high school, he horrified his parents by announcing that he wasn't goingto Yale after all.He had applied to a much more exclusive institution."I'm going to be a greeter at Sam Beasley World," he announced proudly.His father glared.His mother broke down.His younger sister asked, "Does thatmean you can get me in for free?"Ultimately, his disappointed parents had not stood in his way.They thought itwas just a phase.It would pass.And Yale would still be there next year.They were wrong.The day he first donned the furry costume and oversizedlop-eared head of Wacky Wolf, Ron knew he had found his true calling.Butbeing a greeter, he discovered, was not quite as much fun as being a greetee.There were rules, and violators could be summarily fired.One could neverappear in public out of costume.Or with one's character head removed.Onemustn't speak.One must be unfailingly polite and kind.Once a greeter dressed as Screwball Squirrel had come upon a little girl whohad fallen into the Phantom Lagoon.As her parents watched helplessly, thelittle girl splashed and cried piteously for rescue.The Screwball Squirrel greeter had doffed his bucktoothed head and plunged in.He pulled the girl to safety and after applying mouth-to-mouth, brought heraround.The crowd had applauded the man.Page 63 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlThe CEO had hauled him onto the carpet within the hour.As Phipps later heard it, the CEO opened up the confrontation with a curt,"You're fired!""But sir, I saved a little girl from drowning.""And removed your squirrel head.That wasn't necessary.""I had to resuscitate!""You could have done it through the mask, or let the parents do their own CPR.You stepped out of character, and worse, you deprived the organization of awonderful public relations bonanza.""Sir?""A ton of tourists took photos of you giving mouth-to-mouth.Had you kept yourhead on your shoulders, we could have had that photo run in everything fromPeople to Isvestia, furthering the glorious Beasley legend.""But-""We're selling fantasy here, and you popped the bubble! Can you imagine thatlittle girl's trauma when you took your Screwball Squirrel head off?""She was unconscious!""Turn in your tail and pick up your last check."When Ron Phipps heard the story from the tearful greeter that very same day,he wondered aloud, "What would Uncle Sam have said if he could have seen it?""The same thing the CEO did," the greeter overseer said." 'You're fired.'Keep that in mind, Phipps."Ronald Phipps did.He never, never wanted not to be a part of Sam BeasleyWorld.So when the demands on him increased, he made sure he was equal tothem.If the organization said to dump that old lady out of a Beasley-ownedwheelchair, he did so.If a fellow worker grumbled about working in"Mouseschwitz," he turned him in.None of it was what Ronald Phipps hadthought Beasley World stood for, but orders were orders.But this."You all know how to use these things," the security overseer was saying, inthe underground dressing rooms where all the cartoon costumes were stored.Phipps accepted the short-barreled machine pistol, with its oversized triggerguard so he could slip his padded wolf's-paw fingers inside.The weapon feltenormously heavy.The overseer went on."We always knew that terrorists would one day try to penetrate Sam BeasleyWorld, symbol of all that is America.You've trained for this day.You'reprepared for this day.Now that day is here."Ron Phipps looked around, and saw a disturbing sight.Screwball Squirrel wasbrandishing an Ingram.Mother Goose had a pump-action shotgun.Everyone hadknown about the potential Cuban threat, but it was incredible that BeasleyWorld actually had been targeted.The overseer said Cuban terrorists hadalready penetrated the park."Rule number one is 'Aim at your target and hit what you aim at.' " remindedthe overseer."Rule number two is 'Try not to damage the attractions,' " he added."Thereare only two terrorists.This should be a walk in the Haunted Grove, so tospeak."There came nervous laughter from a dozen happy heads, as they marchedsingle-file to the freight elevator that would take them topside to theirrendezvous with destiny.Remo followed the Master of Sinanju through Sam Beasley World, a dull,stricken look on his face."This isn't happening," he said under his breath.Then Chiun's squeaky voice called out, "Look, Remo! Wacky Wolf! Let us ask thebefuddled canine the way."Remo looked up.The Master of Sinanju had veered off toward Horrible House, aLouisiana Gothic mansion whose shuttered windows held ghoulish faces."Hold up, Chiun.I don't think we should take anything for granted here.""Yoo-hoo, Wolfie!" called Chiun.Page 64 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlAnd to Remo's horror, the giant form of Wacky Wolf dropped to one knee andbrought up the muzzle of an Ingram submachine gun.The weapon blatted nasty sound and a tongue of fire.The Master of Sinanju leaped high in the air, over the scream of bullets thattore past Remo's dipping shoulder and perforated a child-size Ferris wheel.The creaking seats rocked and swayed, some dangling, damaged.The Master of Sinanju landed atop the Wolf's funny hat.The head jammed downwith a dull, mortal crack, and the rest of the creature folded to theimmaculate cobblestones.Chiun stepped off the corpse, frowning."Obviously some of the inhabitants have not been informed that Sinanju nowrules their happy domain," he sniffed.Remo stopped to lift off the absurd wolf's head.The face revealed wasunexceptional.Remo replaced it, sick.The guy looked barely twenty [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]