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Pinocchio–The Truthful Version

8 Oct

You’ve heard Pinocchio’s version of this story–but as everyone well knows–he lies.  So here is MY version, the truthful story told by me–Cricket.

I lived with a pauper named Geppetto, a real dreamy guy who’s main goal in life was to become a puppeteer.  We were pretty happy just the two of us, but he kept wanting more company then just me–rude!  One day, he was carving a puppet out of an old block of wood, and to his surprise and delight-it spoke to him!  It said “Ouch!”  Then kicked him with it’s newly carved foot.  Geppetto had no children (and remember no money) so despite the kick, he was especially happy about this discovery.  He said, “I will name you Pinocchio.”  Believe me, that’s when everything fell apart.  This puppet was ornery–I could see that right off, and I’m just a cricket. . .

Geppetto, sent Pinocchio to school for two reasons-he wanted the puppet to be like a real son, AND he knew the wood’s language skills would need improving if the two were going to capitalize on this talking-talent and make any money.  I followed the puppet, not quite trusting him.  And sure enough, on his way to school, Pinocchio veered off the path when he saw a coyote in the distance, wandering into Flathead Nation.

Coyote, seeing the awkward wood trundling through the trees, decides to have a little fun with Pinocchio.  Coyote approches the puppet and laughs, “You are a talking piece of wood!”  Pinocchio angrily says he is a real boy, then his nose grows a full two feet, making Coyote roll on the ground in merriment.  Then, I saw a glimmer in Coyote’s eye as he said, “I know how you can become a real boy.  All you have to do is eat these mushrooms.”  I tried to talk some sense into the puppet, but he brushed me aside and grabbed four handfuls of mushrooms and stuffed them into his mouth.  Then, Pinocchio’s wooded “skin” turned green, very much like my own exoskeleton, and he began to jabber on to someone I could not see.  The dope was in such trouble he began rambling on about a blue fairy.  I knew the mushrooms were hallucinogens, and told him to be quiet.  All the while Coyote giggled with great mirth at the sight of the confused wood talking to nobody.  Undeterred by my skepticism or Coyote’s barbs, Pinocchio said the blue fairy conveyed to him that in order to become a real boy he just had to be good and kind.

Exasperated at both Coyote’s trickery and Pinocchio’s nievity, I dragged the puppet out of the woods and back to the school path.  I had some trickery of my own.  Still out of it from the mushrooms, Pinocchio was confused and rambling about colored fairies.  I simply told the puppet that the best way to become a real boy, the MOST kind and good way, was to stand still for as long as possible.  When he asked how that would possibly work, I said, “Well, have you ever seen a BAD tree?”  He couldn’t argue with that logic, and so he stood, completely still, waiting to be good and kind, so he could become a real boy.  Idiot!

I left him there, waiting stupidly to become a good tree.  Now things would be just like they were before.  It was a good thing I saved Geppetto from all the trouble that stupid, naughty puppet could get in to.  And everybody knows crickets are the best company a person could hope for anyway.

And no one every heard from Pinocchio again, except for the time Geppetto was walking though the forest on an expedition to find more talking wood.  I went along, of course, even though it was an impossible task.  And the two of us saw one notable tree.  The truck stood tall, but half way up, there was a nose that protruded far into the distance. . .