...Now a Word from
Yellow Hat Guy
An Asian
woman stands alone at the Boro Bar, surveying the field to see who will take
her home. After a few drinks, a would-be
player goes up to get the ball rolling, beckoned by the call of her sultry
stare.
“So... what’s your major?” he says to break the ice.
Suddenly, I leap through the
street-side picture window, and shoulder roll over to the would-be couple.
“Yellow Hat Guy!” he shouts.
“Hey! Do you know if that woman is really a woman?”
I am only met with puzzled looks,
so I elaborate.
“When ever you encounter a female that you’ve never
met before, hit them in the crotch, just to make sure. Like this.”
I then proceed to punt the Asian chick between the legs, causing “her”
to crumple to the ground and cough up blood.
Reaching down, I pick up the black wig off the ground to show to the
naïve bar patron. His eyes grow wide as
he gasps and covers his mouth.
“Oh shit! That’s no woman! That’s a Taiwanese lady-boy!” He snaps his head back at me: “Man, you sure saved my ass!”
“You’re damn right I did!” I assure the patron, as he lowers his head in
shame.
“I... I didn’t know...” he tells
me.
I lay a comforting hand on his
shoulder, and tell him “Well now you know...” then I point at the camera in a
mid-body shot, and I continue. “...and knowing is half the battle.”
This was
immediately followed by a jump cut to a still shot of me with my foot on a
rock, holding the American flag, which flaps in the breeze. The pose was not unlike Captain Morgan’s on
the label of his delectable spiced rum.
The US Navy’s Fight Demonstration Team, the Blue Angles, were breaking
formation just overhead. This is all
complemented by the non-digetic trumpet fanfare.
“Yell-low Hat!” is triumphantly sung in background.