Do you remember when little Mikey Nitrous forsook his Zoroastrianism and became an orthodox fish tickler? Most of Weaverton remembers that day, but most of us remember it not for little Mikey's conversion but rather for the great sign that appeared in the sky over our fair community.
When the sign first appeared, the bulk of us Weavertonians were hard at work – in the shops, in the factories, or in the open pit crouton mine that accounted for most of Weaverton's gross domestic product. There we were, hard at work, when the great sign appeared in the heavens and called us all to a different sort of life, a different plane of existence. It was a sign that gave many great hope and that gave many cause to stop and rethink their lives. It made all of us realize what a great hunger was growing inside of us and what a great void our lives had known up until that point.
Mr. DeGraff, the beak-nosed armpit-sniffer with slick, black hair removed his clothing and stood in the public square, inviting others to join him in celebration of the sign. Weavertonians have never been much in favor of public nudity, and the appearance of the sign did not change that. Officer O'Malley walked over to Mr. DeGraff and pummeled him mercilessly with his night stick until Mr. DeGraff agreed to put his clothes back on. Order was restored, the people stopped averting their eyes, and their attention was drawn once more to the sign in the heavens.
One of the high priests of the Potted Veal Victory Temple attempted to make contact with the sign around 1:30 in the afternoon. He walked out – directly beneath the sign – and began his shimmy-dance, accompanied by seven swaying acolytes of the Veal Temple. He shimmied to the east. He shimmied to the west. He shook his shreptik in a circular motion and chanted the Veal Temple chant. Nothing happened. The high priest then held his shreptik with both hands and shook it until it started to fray a little bit on the end and tears filled his eyes. He beat his shreptik on an acolyte, slapping it against the back of the poor fellow's head. Nothing happened, and the sign remained suspended, silent, and motionless in the sky. The high priest and his acolytes returned to the Potted Veal Victory Temple with dejected hearts and a frayed shreptik.
A little before supper time, little Mikey Nitrous wandered out into the village square, right beneath the sign. He looked up at it, and felt the hunger that all were experiencing. He felt a gnawing emptiness deep down inside of him, and he called up to the heavens. “Let this sign be seen by all!” he shouted, “let it be proclaimed to all the nations of the world!”
Just then, a bright orange electrical cord descended from the heavens and began to coil on the ground right next to little Mikey Nitrous. With surprise and delight little Mikey grabbed the cord and went in search of an electrical outlet. He found one on the side of Mr. Cannonball's house. He unplugged the cord that had provided power to Mr. Cannonball's outdoor Scientology shrine, and watched the giant statue of Tom Cruise go dark. With hope and eager expectation he plugged in the cord that dangled from the heavens.
The sign began to shine with a brilliant light, and illuminated faces across the length and breadth of Weaverton were lifted up to see its brightness. It gave a new message of hope, a promise of fulfillment, a pledge to end the hunger that was gnawing at so many. For in its brilliant white appearance, the faithful and the apostate alike could not fail to discern its message.
“Eat at Phil's Pork-Hut”