A Tale Of The Toothpick Brigade...

By Leaping Frog Wombat--July 4, 2001--Independence Day

Wedren, Illinois--Deep within the sleepy Fox River Town of Wedren, lies a mystery of

intrigue that to this day still mystifies Sherrif Shellback Polywog, and many who still have regurgitated fleeting glimpses of forgotten memories. During an interview in this exciting sleepy little village of several thousands, along the banks of the mighty polluted Fox River, Sherrif Polywog dug deep into the trashbin's of his memory to dredge up the secret of this towns first anti-globalist protesters who rampaged the streets one fine night when the moon howled at the third Tuesday of next week.

As I was prepared to listen to this gastly horrid little man tell his version of events, little did I know how ill-prepared I was for what was to come. For I was soon to be a part of one of lifes grand little mysteries upon which the likes of you out there in the reading audience could not have possibly imagined to be true. Hold on tightly to your seats, or the nearest thing that your bathing suit covers, before this enigma of the extreme unravels the very fabric of molecules that seperate you from your maker!

This story begins one hot humid nappy nite, upon which the local mosquito's were having a field day buzzing around from one moving mound of flesh to another. How many of you

out there that can still recall those heady evening's of childhood, sprinting after those lovely mosquito foggers chugging down the street, as you sucked up enough of that DDT to make your head spin while you were chasing your little comrads through the fog, and scratching all of those mosquito bites till your arms were bleeding? The good old days. They seem little more than a memory away....Long ago forgotten until the moment unfolded, just now.

As I was saying, Sherrif Polywog began his story of horror, as I tried to jot it all down as fast as my little hands allowed the ink to flow upon my notepad from my trusty Bic.

It all began, with the posed queston to me. Have you ever heard of the notorius Tooth Pick Brigade, says Sherrif Polywog? Who, I say?......... Old Sherrif Shellback Polywog carefully turns his head side to side, just to make sure that no one was sneaking up on him, and repeats in a whisper to my ear; have you ever heard of the notorius Toothpick Brigade? I sat straight, and peered back at this pizza faced, gnarley eared, runny nosed, one eyed, toothless garlic eating, badge toting maggot of a man, and calmly said; Who?

In anger, the Sherrif leapt up in a shrill rage, until I quickly soothed the beast by claiming that I was just kidding, and most certainly have heard of the notorius Toothpick Brigade.

It was sometime back that I personaly did a story on the aftermath of this troupe of brigands, that specialized in filling up every key hole that they could possibly find in every lock in town that they passed through. With a few boxes of toothpicks, costing barely a few sheckle's per box, they loved to steal the empty space found inside a key hole, by filling it up. With a snap, the tooth pick was jammed into the lock tighter than Hogans Goat, and just to be certain the Brigadier of the Brigade ordered his jolly troupe of mischief makers to stuff the other end in and break it off for good luck! SNAP! With some laughter, and a stealth to their flight, they silently disappeared, and was sucked up by the night. Nothing but a trail of disappeared key holes were left behind as a mystery to behold.....The Toothpick Brigade was soon to become a legend, wandering town to town, with a trail of Wanted Posters quickly following suit....At the least, thats the legend of the legend's....But meanwhile....

About dawn, as the sleepyheaded townsfolk set off to their jobs, the surprise of their life

was upon them in the twink of an eye. A crowd in the street began to grow. What's up, asked Pete the baker, of his old friend Tom the candlestick maker. Dun know fer sher, say's Tom, but it looks like we all got the day off to go fishin. All the bossmen are screaming bloody murder because they can't seem to find a space big enough to fit their key's in, to open up the factories, stores, warehouses, or even start up their trucks.

Someone misplaced all the key hole's, someone whispered to another....The key holes are missing said Mary Lou with a twinkle in her eye, as she could barely contain a grin from spreading ear to ear. Just you wait until the neighbors hear of this, said Suzy, of Suzy's

Homade Vibrators, with her eye's all lit up with fire, and new plans quickly coming to mind as to how to fill in the day....This was the beginning of the dawn of chaos...

Yeah, I say; I recall the Toothpick Brigade, as I looked at old Sherrif Shellback Polywog,

sitting back in his cigar smoke as he was digging for gold out of his right nostril. It was long ago that I covered that story of the local townsfolk, I said, and that fateful day the locks kept out all the bosses. The town had a party to celebrate their newfound freedom, from what I recalled. Headlines were made for week's on that one, as the same strategy quickly spread across the globe, I said....Nothing was ever again the same.... Some say, that was the beginning of the anti-globalists strategy that finally turned the tied on the imperialist fascists dominating the globe. It's the little things in life that make a difference, I thought to myself....Or at least I thought that was a thought of my own...

Soooo....Whats the big mystery, I politely asked of the gentleman before me puffing away on his cigar. Whats the story...Why am I here...? Whats your secret....

Well says Sheriff Shellback Polywog, looking sheepishly at me with that funny looking one eye of his...It was a full moon that night, just like now, that my cousins and I set off drunker than a skunk downtown, and filled up all those locks that night long ago...We was just having some fun, a prank, and had no idea that others would quickly follow suit and start to fill up every lock on the planet with toothpicks...It's all a mystery to me, how it grew into a movement, the Sherrif claims...It's a long story he say's, as he warms up a pot of coffee for the two of us to drink down, as he starts at the beginning with a story I have'nt yet wrote, for you the audience.....

Once upon a time, the Sherrif starts out.........