It was a dark and stormy night which is unusual considering it was three o'clock in the afternoon and not a cloud in the sky. The air was thick with humidity and the weatherman was on the sauce. There wasn't much alcohol but it was an old recipe passed down his granny's line that let the weatherman see the mana fronts and hear the exultations of the Sun. The ways it enlightened the soul were unmatched for the weatherman. It was heaven, or as close as there was on earth. How could this be true? Clouds like mattresses; undeniable safety; endless relaxation. Whom would gift the weatherman such a prosperity? A green screen, of course. The tech guys crouched out of sight, tapping away furiously on their computers. Though the presenter was the public face of the weather segment, the tech guys had the real power. Joe nudged Bill. "Watch this." He tapped on his keyboard. Terry, channel 6's weather czar, suit disappeared and was replaced by the daily polen index for Ohio. Nonplussed, Terry pointed to his own bellybutton:"As this doughnut chart shows, the top allergens now are juniper & poplar." Using his remote device, Joe now made the weatherman's hives form a pattern like the continental US. "As seen here the largest concentration of allergens are in the corn belt. For the weather in Mexico, Joe made Terry drop his pants. There were a lot of angry calls to the news station that morning. Turns out partial nudity is a big no-no on public television- the audacity to wear clothes in public was regarded as low-brow. "Let the hoi-polloi don their Wal-Mart t-shirts," proclaimed the president of PBS as he stood naked on his soap-box. That was just before he fell, of course.

 

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