A kid is at my door. I guess he's twleve or thirteen. He wants to mow my lawn.
I ask him how much he charges. He says thirty dollars. I say ten and an autographed photo. He squints at me and asks if I'm famous. I say sure, I'm on tv. He says that doesn't make you famous, and that he's been on tv on the news when they were doing a story about his school and he talked about the bake sale. I tell him that it's different, and that I'm the star of my own show.
He says thirty dollars or nothing. I ask him if he has his own lawn mower. He does.
My lawn sure needs mowing... it's all long and dying in some parts.
I tell him I'll be right back, and that I have someone I want him to meet.
I come back with Mr. Happy Severed Head in a cardboard box. He opens it up and says Wow! all ecxited-like. I tell him that his name is Mr. Happy Severed Head and that he's looking for a good home. I tell him that he's famous, too, and was the guest host for a few days on my show. He sniffs the wrinkled head and makes a face.
I tell him Mr. Happy Severed Head can come live with him in exchange for three lawn mowings. He nods enthusiastically. I should have asked for four.
The boy scampers away down the street, cardboard box nestled lovingly under his arm.
I'll sure miss that severed head.