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In the corner of the dark alley a figure lies in the fetal position. Orca-fat hoodlums administer a brutal beating to the helpless man. They take turns kicking, punching and taunting. The shadows in the vomit-inducing alley cloak the identities of the bloated thugs.

One has big round ears and clown shoes. That was all I could be sure of through the blood streaming into my eyes.

"I wish that mouse-eared bastard would quit giving me the old clown-shoe in the spleen." But he didn't.

I hurled my liver and onion lunch onto his shoes...once more, with feeling, so I could get the anchovies from my caesar salad into his shoes.

Oddly, I watched from above as well, disembodied, because the bleeding sad-sack was clearly me. I was on the roof sipping from a straw, my eyes followed the straw to its end... in the radiator of a rusted-out pick-up truck's radiator. I took a long, hard pull off the straw and the pain eased.

Clearly my Inner Child needed a hug and opiates and a drano martini to ease his pain. Why I had a bloody cheese-grater in my hand puzzled me and I, for there was no cheese to be grated.

A cacophony of bloviated voices blaring filled the alley.

Light finally broke through. But I could hardly see through my blood soaked eyes.

"Focus, blink, focus, I think my spleen exploded. Spit out blood."

The white-noise of voices cleared, there were little people in front of me. Little baby bodies with big bulbous heads.

The voice coming from one was definitely Rush Limblower's. The next was Bill O'Vilely. Lastly, Glenn Beck, tears streaming down his misshapen face.

Behind them were the thugs and behind them were even huger ominous outlines and behind them was the sound of an angry mob milling about.

"Logos? Why would thugs or mobsters wear logos?" But there they were on the golf shirts of the Orca-fat thugs.

GE/NBC, Time Warner/CNN, NewsCorp/Fox News, Viacom had sent their voices of doom to terrorize my inner child, while they beat me (again).

I swear I saw politicians heads pop-out of their pockets.

"But why was Mickey Mouse trying to make my spleen burst with his clown shoes?"

"They all have stock in this, the Mega Media Moguls."

The Moguls nodded to Rush and Glenn and Billo, their tiny bloated heads and bulging eyes glared at me...
 
Their faces contorted, lips pursing into sphincters, cheeks and eyes bulging. Truly these were ass-faces.

BLAH! Their lips blew-open followed by their voices, followed by poop.  Their words nothing more than gibberish punctuated with feces.

Through the verbal diarrhea, I was stupefied to witness the throng of dead-eyed sheople cheer in jubilation at the ass-plosion I was facing from Rush and his fellow dingleberries.

Then I remembered I was being pelted with verbal diarrhea and decided to puke... again. "It's on TV everyday. It's on TV everyday. It's on TV everyday. It's just butt-butter, factually bulimic butt-butter... spewing from their faces."

The sheople cheered on fangasmically as the toilet tater-tots lambasted me.

My brain began to atrophy as I watched the miniature bobble-headed, ass-faced, douche-wits dry-hump their corporate masters on their way out.

Then from the shadows stepped the blood soaked "muscle" of the group.

"Again why would they all wear logos?" I couldn't think through the pain of the beating and drying ass-kabobs. And then a lightbulb literally appeared above my head: "Because they're above the law. They could mock the law just as they mocked the masses."

They wore their logos with pride: JP Morgan Chase, AIG, CITIBANK, Goldman Sachs... I don't know how many more there were. They were all there, proud of the beating they gave my inner child.

Specters whizzed by taunting me, logos glowing for all to see: Enron, Worldcom, Tyco, Adelphia and HealthSouth: Ghosts of corporate mal-feces past.

I was numb. But I held on to that bloody cheese-grater for my life. For it represented the heady days of cavalier spending, paying bills and recklessly mocking the anxiety now mocking me.

I sprung to upright on the couch, chest heaving, covered in sweat. I wasn't bleeding or covered in verbal diarrhea... but the rest is true.

Mental note: No more naps.

**********

Today, February 14th 2010, the big banks were exposed as even more evil than originally thought possible. Obviously I thought very little of them before.

But today the Huffington Post broke the news that banks have been making roughly 250 million a year on disasters and charities. Refusing to lower fees to relief organizations.

Profiting on human suffering... a new low. Congratulations, I now have to think-up a new emotion beyond hatred.

You'd be ashamed of yourselves if you had a soul.

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