That commercial on TV has it all wrong. The

That commercial on TV has it all wrong. The best part of waking up is

remembering her name. I didn't get many best parts. I got a lot of "emergency" phone calls where I sprang out of bed shouting wildly about getting somewhere "stat" or "asap", then

my luck finally changed -- I was offered the chance to travel as a carnie throughout the greater Minneapolis area. I never said it was good luck. I took the job, but when I got

to "The Zipper" I realized I was out of my league. I had done some toddler coasters, but this was "the show." My Carnival Sensai was toothless man named "Ducky," he was

often described as "that horsefaced fella who can't swim." So, of course, his nickname was "Ducky." It made sense, didn't it? Such is the mentality of carnies. Ducky always said

he could keep a secret, that's he'd never sing. But a few hours on the cuttlebone made easy work of that boast. In less than an hour he was warbling all of the flock's secrets

to anyone who would listen. After spending his life in a cage in front of the TV, his first tune was the theme to Three's Company. "Come and knock on our door..." His master

He left his prisoner and started off towards his office. The woman chained to his desk had a new skill she'd learned, and he was eager to see, as she was missing a lot of skin.

Even without skin, even while chained to the desk, she could still dance. She had somehow learned to use her abs to hold everything in. She could even pirouette. Figure that!