Ah, isn’t summer just wonderful? Why, I could lay here all day, surrounded by my little forest friends, and never tire!
Good morning, singing bluebirds! How are you today? Good morning, rustling leaves! Enjoying the cool breeze? Good morning, high-pitched revving of engines and frightening squealing of tires! What are your plans for this splendid—hey, hold on a second! You guys aren’t my friends. You’re…you’re…. Oh, no! Please no! Stop, not again!
Gaahhhhh! Dirt bikes!
Okay, okay. You’re okay now. Just a couple of minor scrapes, that’s all. No need to panic. They’re gone now. Those mean old dirt bikes won’t bother you anymore. Why, the whole thing was probably just a big misunderstanding! Maybe they didn’t even see you here. Yes, that’s it—they probably didn’t even notice you were in their way. After all, what have you ever done to those nasty dirt bikes that they’d want to run you over?
Now, where was I? Ah yes, back to counting the clouds. Hello, cloud number 54, you look like a…tree stump! Hello, cloud number 55, you look just like a…. Oh my, they appear to be coming back. To apologize this time, I’m sure. “Sorry, little dirt bike jump,” they’ll say. “We certainly hope you’re not banged up too bad. Can you find it in your great big heart to forgive us?” Gee whiz, they must feel terrible, because they sure are coming in fast and—aaaaaahhhhhhhhh!
Not the face! Anything but the face! Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow!
Okay, that wasn’t a mistake. That was most definitely on purpose this time. I think one of them was even laughing—as if he were having fun or something! What is this? Some kind of sick pastime to you people? Is this how you people get your kicks? You stupid imps! You dumb ignoramuses! Don’t you brutes have anything better to do?
Argghhh! Unhand me, fools! Get off! GET OFF ME! Help, I can’t breathe!
Oh, thank goodness—there are people coming. There’s a crowd gathering! They’ll save me! They’ll stop these nitwits! Wait…why are you all cheering? No, don’t encourage them! Stop applauding! Stop, I say! Can’t you see I’m dying over here? Good gravy, is that…is that a video camera? You barbarians! Are you actually recording this?
And those children—you people brought your kids out to see this? While you’re at it, there’s a slaughterhouse a few miles down the road. Why don’t you take your 8-year-olds there next? You despicable fiends! You contemptuous dunces! Shame on you! You should all be sent to the pillory!
I don’t understand. Why me? What is it about me you people hate? Why do you feel the constant need to run me over? I’m just an innocent little dirt bike jump!
Stop, stop, no more! Look, can’t we all just come to a friendly little agreement here? Can’t we all just get al—ooooowww! Ow! Ow! Ow! Enough—enough! I surrender!
Oh now you’ve really done it. Just look at me! Tire tracks going every which way. Dirt all over the place. No wonder these dirt bikes have no respect for me. Heck, if I saw myself just lying there on the ground, like some pathetic mound of nothing, I’d probably even—HOLY MOTHER OF MERCY! MY BACK! OH DEAR LORD, MY BACK!
Wait a second, what’s going on? Why is everybody so quiet all of a sudden? It looks like—yes!—he fell! He flipped and fell on his stupid head! Huzzah! En garde! Take that, rapscallion! Take that, you ugly troglodyte! That ought to teach you not to ruffle my feathers. Maybe now you’ll think twice before…oh, my stars…that’s…that’s an awful lot of blood….
Umm, listen fellows. Heh heh. It was all just an accident, right? Just a tiny little goof? I mean, we were all having fun, and he was going oh so fast, and…. Guys? Guys?!?
NO, PLEASE! NOT THE AMBULANCE! DON’T DRIVE THE AMBULANCE OVER ME!
