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I went to the tanning salon today and told them to make me look like South America. like the brave and humble people who wade through the Amazon River looking for gold-bearing piranha. like the gigantic one-eyed warriors of Patagonia. like the fabled Caribs, who filed their teeth and ate their enemies ear lobes after battle. like the men and women of the Andes whose breath is so sweet from chewing sweet gum leaves that hummingbirds follow them around like mosquitoes. but the attendant said she couldn't do that.
so I asked her to make me look like China. to give me wise eyes and a poker face that revealed nothing of my inner turmoil. to dress me in silk and harness me a jade dragon to fly me to Mongolia. but the attendant said she was all out of China -- they didn't expect any more in until next Tuesday.
in exasperation I asked what she could make me look like -- and she said she could make me look like the Pillsbury Dough Boy, since I already had a head start in that direction already.
"so be it" I commanded her. she and her technicians worked far into the night to turn me into a white flour icon -- and now I will stride through the land, raining biscuits and dumplings on a grateful people.
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