THE TALE OF A FRESHLY BAKED GINGERBREAD MAN

Once upon a time there was a band that played gigs far and wide in a magical kingdom. Because it was a magical band in a magical kingdom, it had a pig as the lead singer/keyboardist, an elephant as the drummer and an accountant as the bassist (okay, the bassist wasn’t magical, but he could play, dig?). They also had a little old man and a little old woman as their managers.

Because the managers were so cheap, they made a Gingerbread Man to be the band’s roadie. They used Licorice for his stringy mullet hair and blue icing for his jeans and his bandana. Red icing was his torn tour t-shirt and lemon icing was his multiple backstage passes that hung around his neck. Since he was a cookie he made for a crummy roadie, but he believed himself to be quite fast; a fact he often announced in a voice full of gravel from too many smokes (amongst other things) as he drove the band’s equipment to another gig in the Gingerbread Van (which the old couple also made): “Run, run as fast as you can! You can’t catch me, I’m the Gingerbread Man!”

One night they got a call from the Frog Prince! He loved rock and roll and wanted the band to perform at his castle the very next day. The managers were ever so happy! “This will make us famous,” the old man exclaimed to them all. “But how can we get there in time?” the lead singer squealed, as pigs and lead singers in rock bands only know how to squeal. “It is a two-day trip and we only have our little blue van for all of our band equipment.”

The Gingerbread Man stood up and said, after a couple of coughs from holding in smoke, “I’ll drive the equipment van over to the castle! You know how fast I am!  I’ll make it in plenty of time!”

Everyone was skeptical for they knew the Gingerbread Man well.  “That’s not a good idea,” the old woman said. “Being freshly baked, you probably shouldn’t drive.”

This only made the Gingerbread Man more determined. So he ran to the door with the keys to the van. “I’ll prove I’m the fastest of all!  You  just wait and see!”

“Don’t go!” said the old woman. “Listen to reason!” trumpeted the drummer.  But the Gingerbread Man just laughed as he hopped in the van, saying, “Run, run, as fast as you can! You can’t catch me, I’m the Gingerbread Man!”

“Wait, you idiot,” the old man shouted. “The equipment’s still on stage and the van is empty!”  Yet the Gingerbread Man couldn’t hear over the squeal of the tires. And away he drove, chugging an energy drink or two. Or six. Plus a Pepsi. To help him stay awake. Sure.

The pig, elephant and accountant then jumped into a car and gave chase, thinking they could catch him!  “Ha-ha,” said the Gingerbread Man. “The managers just couldn’t catch me at all! The band is much faster, but I’m more on the ball!  Run, run, as fast as you can.  You can’t catch me, I’m the Gingerbread Man!”

Onward he went, going so fast that he was a blur as he zoomed past a fox policeman with a radar-gun.  The fox jumped in his patrol car and started to make chase.

Even with sirens wailing and flashing lights in his mirrors, the Gingerbread Man took no notice and pushed the gas pedal down further. With one eye beginning to twitch, the Gingerbread Man laughed as he pulled farther away from the managers, band and the foxy cop.

“Ha-ha,” said the Gingerbread Man, wishing his hands had fingers so he could give them all one to view. “The managers couldn’t keep up. The band proved that they weren’t so tough. And the foxy cop just found out he won’t get his bust.  Run, run, as fast as you can! You can’t catch me, I’m the Gingerbread Man!”

But foxy cop called ahead with his magic ears. (Okay, actually his police radio.) And at the next junction there waited another cop who was also a fox, and ever so crafty. So he covered the road with road spikes and waited for the Gingerbread Man’s van.

Soon the Gingerbread Man saw the fox waving his flashlight and motioning him to stop. But he laughed as he kept on, forcing the fox to dive out of the way.

“Ha-ha,” said the Gingerbread Man. “No one before could catch up with me, and certainly a fox my captor won’t be. Run, run, as fast as you can! You can’t catch me, I’m the Gingerbread Man!”

But the spikes did their job and blew out his tires.  He skidded across the pavement, straight off the road, and smashed into an electrical pole.  A live wire, shooting sparks, came down and caught the van on fire.  All the

Gingerbread Man could do was jump out of the van and watch as the flames quickly destroy the van and his future as the band’s roadie.

“Oh, no,” cried the Gingerbread Man.  “The van is a quarter gone!  Now it’s half-gone!  Now it’s three-quarters gone! Now it’s all gone!  I’m bummed, man, I’m going to be fired.”

And he was.