An Interview With ...
Miss Mae
January 08, 2007
AN INTERVIEW WITH…
Greetings to all cyberspace-nauts! I. B. Nosey here, your official unofficial reporter. Today I’m with Mother Goose as news has reached us that she’s all a-flutter about flying the coop! Let’s see if she’ll share a few words…
Nosey: Mother Goose! What’s up?
Goose: Outta my way! Scoot! Scram!
Nosey: But Mother—Hey, do you mind if I call you Goosey?
Goose: Don’t call me at all! I’ve had it, I tell you! Enough is enough!
Nosey: But what has your feathers flying, Goosey? Our viewers are dying to know.
Goose: Dying! Yes, that’s right! If that old woman in the shoe gets her hands around my neck, I’ll be a dead duck.
Nosey: But you’re a goose.
Goose: Dead is dead! She’ll serve me for dinner, and I’ll be the main dish! Oh, gotta escape, gotta get away fast!
Nosey: But what’s the old woman’s problem?
Goose: She’s got too many kids, or juvenile delinquents is more like it. One of them came home last night and said he’d been surfing the web. Now that’s a lie. You know a body can’t surf anywhere except in the ocean.
Nosey: But what has that—?
Goose: And then another one brought home a mouse. A mouse! What mother wants their children handling a mouse? He said it had no teeth, but bytes. So, I tell you. Those young’uns are hoodlums!
Nosey: I see your point. But why is the woman upset with you?
Goose: She said it was my fault she had so many children she didn’t know what to do, and she wants me to change the nursery rhyme. I can’t do that, because I’d no longer be Mother Goose, would I?
Nosey: Have you tried a negotiator to transact a peaceful settlement?
Goose: Of course I did! What do you take me for, a bird-brain? I called in the big “ho, ho, ho” himself, Mr. Jolly Green Giant, all the way from his valley. Big mistake, and do I mean big!
Nosey: What happened?
Goose: That cabbage-head put on her shoe! Wore it around in that green valley and do you know why that valley’s so green? Remember all the stories of the cow jumping over the moon? You have any idea of how often that’s read? Zillions, I tell you, zillions! That means cow after cow after cow is jumping the moon…and a whole bunch of fertilizer is dropping down on that valley. So, you get my drift? I mean, does your nose get the drift?
Nosey: Did she get her shoe back?
Goose: Sure, she got it back and that’s why she’s angry! She says it’s my fault her house smells like the big outdoors! Not that she liked it smelling like all those young’uns gym socks either, but if she had her rather’s…Well, which would you choose?
Nosey: So what will you do, Goosey? How will you resolve this?
Goose: I’m getting away, I tell ya. I’m heading for That Midnight Train to Georgia.
Nosey: A train? But why don’t you fly?
Goose: Fly? It’s hunting season!
Nosey: Oh, of course. But whatever will you do when you reach Georgia?
Goose: Ms. Gladys Knight and her Pips not only invited me on their Midnight Train to Georgia, but also to the Ugly Bug Ball. I’m the Mother of Ceremonies and get to choose the winner. Say, why don’t you come along?
Nosey: Me? I’m not a bug.
Goose: No, but you’re ugly enough to be a shoe-in for the prize.
Nosey: Uh…this is I. B. Nosey turning it over to you, Gander, in the control booth…..
Copyright 2007 by Lula M. Thomas
Greetings to all cyberspace-nauts! I. B. Nosey here, your official unofficial reporter. Today I’m with Mother Goose as news has reached us that she’s all a-flutter about flying the coop! Let’s see if she’ll share a few words…
Nosey: Mother Goose! What’s up?
Goose: Outta my way! Scoot! Scram!
Nosey: But Mother—Hey, do you mind if I call you Goosey?
Goose: Don’t call me at all! I’ve had it, I tell you! Enough is enough!
Nosey: But what has your feathers flying, Goosey? Our viewers are dying to know.
Goose: Dying! Yes, that’s right! If that old woman in the shoe gets her hands around my neck, I’ll be a dead duck.
Nosey: But you’re a goose.
Goose: Dead is dead! She’ll serve me for dinner, and I’ll be the main dish! Oh, gotta escape, gotta get away fast!
Nosey: But what’s the old woman’s problem?
Goose: She’s got too many kids, or juvenile delinquents is more like it. One of them came home last night and said he’d been surfing the web. Now that’s a lie. You know a body can’t surf anywhere except in the ocean.
Nosey: But what has that—?
Goose: And then another one brought home a mouse. A mouse! What mother wants their children handling a mouse? He said it had no teeth, but bytes. So, I tell you. Those young’uns are hoodlums!
Nosey: I see your point. But why is the woman upset with you?
Goose: She said it was my fault she had so many children she didn’t know what to do, and she wants me to change the nursery rhyme. I can’t do that, because I’d no longer be Mother Goose, would I?
Nosey: Have you tried a negotiator to transact a peaceful settlement?
Goose: Of course I did! What do you take me for, a bird-brain? I called in the big “ho, ho, ho” himself, Mr. Jolly Green Giant, all the way from his valley. Big mistake, and do I mean big!
Nosey: What happened?
Goose: That cabbage-head put on her shoe! Wore it around in that green valley and do you know why that valley’s so green? Remember all the stories of the cow jumping over the moon? You have any idea of how often that’s read? Zillions, I tell you, zillions! That means cow after cow after cow is jumping the moon…and a whole bunch of fertilizer is dropping down on that valley. So, you get my drift? I mean, does your nose get the drift?
Nosey: Did she get her shoe back?
Goose: Sure, she got it back and that’s why she’s angry! She says it’s my fault her house smells like the big outdoors! Not that she liked it smelling like all those young’uns gym socks either, but if she had her rather’s…Well, which would you choose?
Nosey: So what will you do, Goosey? How will you resolve this?
Goose: I’m getting away, I tell ya. I’m heading for That Midnight Train to Georgia.
Nosey: A train? But why don’t you fly?
Goose: Fly? It’s hunting season!
Nosey: Oh, of course. But whatever will you do when you reach Georgia?
Goose: Ms. Gladys Knight and her Pips not only invited me on their Midnight Train to Georgia, but also to the Ugly Bug Ball. I’m the Mother of Ceremonies and get to choose the winner. Say, why don’t you come along?
Nosey: Me? I’m not a bug.
Goose: No, but you’re ugly enough to be a shoe-in for the prize.
Nosey: Uh…this is I. B. Nosey turning it over to you, Gander, in the control booth…..
Copyright 2007 by Lula M. Thomas
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