The heavy helmet was sweltering in the afternoon heat. Moptop pulled it off, wondering why everyone was wearing them for the baseball game. One of the girls on his team followed suit, saying, "I don't know why they had us wear these."
"Yeah," replied Moptop. "Maybe if we were playing hockey this would be justifiable, but this is just this newfangled 'stick ball' game."
The next morning, Moptop got into his car and headed downtown. He noticed a large number of people lining the streets, all motionless and staring at him. "Huh," thought Moptop. He rolled one of the windows down to get a closer look, and one of the people suddenly sprung to life, grabbing at his arm. "Whoa!" Moptop slammed on the accelerator to get away.
Arriving at the hospital, he put on his scrubs and made his way through the kitchen, where he observed a woman trying to get through, but being hounded by a security guard in a suit. She would walk a few steps, then be stopped by the man, who would ask, in slow and somewhat broken English, "Who . . . are you?"
"Here's my clearance. I'm supposed to be here!" She would answer, then take a few more steps, only to have the same exchange.
This continued for several minutes, until she'd finally had enough. After the man asked her yet again, she reached into one of the cabinets, pulling out a bag of pasta and smacking him in the face, screaming, "I am the spaghetti!"
