One day, while I was getting my toes waxed, I saw a bright orange elephant in a hot pink tutu pirouetting down Elm Street. In complete shock I tapped the little Asian woman that was waxing my toes, but when I looked down she’d turn into Jerry Seinfeld. “Hey,” he screeched, “What is it with toes? You wash’em and wash’em and they still smell like something from Frito-Lay!”
Before I could react to the foot related pun, the bell over the shop door tinkled and there stood Brad Pitt, “I’m here to see Tansy Mofit.” The deep voice was smooth as butter.
Hey! That’s me!
“Yes?” I ask the blonde star.
Brad Pitt smiles, “As soon as I saw you sit down in that chair to get your toe waxed, I knew I had to ask you this . . .”
I sat with baited breath, but a clatter interrupted Brad. I looked over to the noise and saw Richard Simmons had knocked over a rack of nail polish bottles as he did jumping jacks. “Work it! Work it!” he shouted to a group of Geisha girls, he paying not an ounce of mind to the scattered enamel bottles.
“Ok, what’s going on here?” I shouted, but Richard was now doing deep knee bends.
At that moment George Washington came in to deliver a pizza, “19.50.” he claimed the total was.
“I’ll take care of that.” said Brad Pitt, and payed off Georgy.
“Hey, I ordered mushroom, this is cheese!” Jerry Seinfeld said as George left.
All the sudden Dick Van Dyke was in a white lab coat, blinking a tiny flashlight in my face, “Are you alright, Miss Mofit? Miss Mofit?”
It was then I jerked up. I looked around my room, it’s dark except for the bright flash of lighting from a passing storm.
As the rain pelted my bedroom window I realized something . . .my toes felt funny, and, for some odd reason, I wanted a cheese pizza.