Breakfast with Janet Reno

Breakfast with Janet Reno

I woke up one morning and the world was mine. Every rock and tree,
every soul that existed-Everything! All mine.
I'm not sure who told me, but I think it was the bacon. The smell of it
and the sound of it sizzling in my mother's big iron skillet told me.
The wet crackle of bacon fat has a lot to say, you know. It said, "Wake
up Krystle! You own the world today!" So I sat up with an indifferent
yawn and meditated.
The world is a very big place, I thought. And it's certainly got a lot
of rules. That was true. Now, I know that for every rule, there's a
reason behind it, so I'm not going to mess with those. This was going
to be harder that I thought.
"Why not have fun with the things around you?" the bacon suggested to
me.
"Good idea bacon," I exclaimed. Bacon is usually so smart.
What to do, I thought. What to do indeed.
"Krystle," my mother called up to me, "come and eat your
breakfast!"
"All right, Janet Reno," I replied, reasoning that Janet Reno was a
better name for my mother than just plain "Mom". I suppose I was hungry
enough to eat with her, but I wanted to make some changes first.
After changing my mother's name (Which was now Janet Reno Jo Twombly,
having changed her first name to Janet Reno) I decided to work with
dogs. I had a dog. His name was Sam. I think he changed it, though. You
see, I made it so one out of every sixteen dogs was a smart-ass. I
figured that if I couldn't change the rules, I'd make a few up
myself.
I waved my hands excitedly, glat that now at least two dogs in my
neighborhood were going to be smart-asses. I hoped Sam was one of
them.
After a few gleeful moments, I realized that what with my frantic hand
waving, I looked kind of like a conductor. BINGO! Instant light bulb
floating above my head. The night before, you see, I had seen an
episode of Seinfield where this guy was called "the Maestro". I wanted
to be "the Maestro" So I became "the Maestro". And of course I wanted
to hear it in action&;#8230;
"The Maestro, your bacon's betting cold!"
"No, it stays warm for three more hours. Didn't you know that?" I
asked, making up a new rule specifically for my bacon eating pleasure.
Isn't life great?
I popped a random video into my VCR, (I had it before I owned the
world) ready to have some fun. It was an Alanis Morissette concert
video. I paused it when they zoomed in to the audience.
"You can fly," I said, pointing to a girl with blonde hair under her
black hat, "and you can fly, too," this time it was a man who looked
stoned, "and you, and you, and you!" I said, zeroing in on various
people.
I looked outside, ignoring the bacon's pleas to not be eaten, and I saw
Baxter, the dog across the street, peeing his new name (I think it was
Gunner) in the snow. I didn't like the snow, so I made it go away.
Baxter/Gunner tried hard to flip me off, but he didn't have fingers. I
laughed and made a new rule that dogs named Gunner need to wear
bonnets.
I made a few changes in the colors I saw around me. The grass was
purple, and the sky orange. I never did like green, and The sky was
usually gray anyway, so it's not like too many people could see the
difference.
Then, I changed all Walmarts names to "Store Store Store Store Store
Store Store etc." so that someone, perhaps seeking duct tape, would
hear this if they called in their inquiry: "Welcome to Store Store
Store Store Store Store Store etc. This is Joan speaking, how my I help
you?" and if they added or forgot one extra "Store" they'd be
fired.
I looked causally at my watch, noting that my bacon had only fifteen
minutes more to stay warm. I yawned and concluded that I'd had enough
composing for the day, so I went downstairs to have breakfast with
Janet Reno.