Sunday, December 19

An Educati-FUN Video!
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"Elevator Safety"

Me and Mr. Happy Puppet Head have been concerned for some time with the behavior of children on elevators. These mechanical megaliths aren't just for fooling around on, they're important life tools for business people to get to and from their hectic jobs, sordid love affairs, drug deals, and trading posts for exotic skins and furs. And even though you should be taking the stairs, because elevators are for suckers, you should know how to ride them properly and safely.

So here we are on an elevator with little Amanda. Together we're all going to learn some proper etiquite for elevator usage. Go ahead, Amanda. Push the button for which floor we want to go to. Sure, let's go all the way up. Floor twenty.

First lesson is that we don't run around in circles and scream inside the elevator. This causes anxiety to fellow elevator travelers. Second Lesson is that we don't push all the buttons on the elevator at once, even if we want to. That's how old people die.

Hm. I don't know why the elevator stopped at floor nine. We didn't push the button and no one's here to get on. Push the elevator close button. That closes the elevator.

No, I don't know why the elevator won't close. An important part of elevator riding is patience.

Try pushing that big red button, the emergency call button. No, it usually doesn't whisper our most disquieting moments from our past. I don't know why it's doing that. And the doors are supposed to close eventually.

The only explanation is that elevators are for suckers and we need to find the stairwell.



We walk down the long, dim hallway, opening doors that look like they might be the stairs, but none of them are marked and all of them are locked. There aren't many doors, and we've soon tried them all. I try to hide my growing sense of panic.

No, Amanda, you don't want to drink from Mr. Happy Puppet Head's flask. That's for grown ups. And yes, we'll find a way out.

I turn around and there's a small boy where there wasn't one before.

"Hello," he says. "I know exactly who you are and everything because I'm psychic." To prove it he makes a vase of flowers appear, makes it shatter against the wall next to him, then all the little pieces disappear as it falls to the floor.

I ask him where the stairwell is. Mr. Happy Puppet Head asks him to do the flower trick again, only with a computer or something real expensive.

"I'm here for Amanda," says the boy. "She's psychic, too, only doesn't know it yet. There's a magic land for psychic children where they aren't condemened by the non-psychics. The nons are always trying to bring us down."

Amanda nods her head knowingly. The boy stretches out his hand to her and she begins walking towards him. I ask her if she knows what she's doing. She says "Sure. I'm psychic."

As their hands touch, they blink out of existance. I assume they've re-appeared in magic psychic land.

We figure now that the boy got his psychic friend that we can leave, but the elevator still won't close and all the doors are still locked. We call for him, but he doesn't respond.

It isn't until a really long time later that he remembers us. Me and Mr. Happy Puppet Head are curled up asleep in the corner of the hallway. He appologizes heartily. I accept, but Mr. Happy Puppet Head demands that the boy make a big chandelier appear, set it on fire, then smash it real good, which he does before making us disappear and reappear in our house.

It's nice to be back home, but whenever we magically reappear in our house like that, I always wonder if its our real home, or some replica in an identical universe. Because you never do know.

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