The Ascension of Mikey 1.1(the retirement of M.J.)

On a cool September Saturday afternoon, in the midst of a Michigan Wolverine Vs. Michigan State Spartan halftime with leaves falling and vascilatting between red, orange and pumpkin innards yellow, Mikey called M.J. for a short meeting.
M.J. entered the dining area clad in sweats, an Irish Hooligan Soccer shirt and odd Oakland University pajama shorts painfully strewn over his sweats. He wore three years old Addidas, no shoestrings, M.J. did smell faintly of fraudelent Giorgio Red for Men. M.J.'s hair was in disarray and due to the wind outside, the melon of M.J. was not unlike an oncoming comet. The similarity of the melon of M.J. to that of 1997's Halle Bopp that this mighty melon did cause a local 16 person cult to assume it was their time to return to their home planet and they did all take their lives that afternoon while reading the autobiography of Detroit Lions owner William Clay Ford,"Mediocrity ain't so bad!".
Mikey did sit calmly at the head of the table. Neatly prepped, Mikey carried a notepad and pen, the notepad did carry some tables, various short paragraphs and in reinforced in the words, "Ohio State Sucks Big Boobies". Mikey was formalized in tannish shirt, black tie, black slacks the distinct crispness of just the right amount of Stetson Wild Country.
"What's the meeting for Mikey?" M.J. blurt out in the midst of Mikey's preparatory thought pattern.
"The time has come for you to take your place in the basement, amidst the rest of the relics. Your time has been past for quite some time now and like the '89 San Francisco earthquake many of the cracks you've left remain to be patched and filled." saieth Mikey.
"I don't think you're the one to put me there Mikey.", stuttered M.J., " I'm still in charge here yknow." Fear seemed to cross the unshaven brow of M.J. The kind of Fear M.J. recalled while his gut was being pummeled by the redneck John Utley against the outside library wall in the 10th grade and all M.J. could muster in the midst of the beating was, "You redneck bastard, is that all you got, Is that all you got?"
"You know that's not true, look around you. Do you see the new furniture? the books? the art? that the damn carpet has been cleaned of crap and actually washed? The hot chick in the bedroom? What make you of all this? You spend your time in endless rounds of Robotron 2084 and the umpteenth viewing of Return of the Jedi looking for yet another hidden meaning to a life you remain afraid to approach?" Mikey leaned forward.
"I am telling you the truth." Saieth Mikey, "you will always have a home here. but it is time for you to know your place. And your place, your time has gone. Its memory fills the basement with regret and the profit of garage sales to come. You will be at home there and you cannot deny that."
"You think I'm stupid? You need me, how do you expect to be half as witty if you lock me up? put me away? Who will rescue you from tight moments of uncomfortable silence, who will fill you with self worth with a quick one liner to floor the hot mamas? You?" M.J. smiled, "You are too serious"
"I was" saieth Mikey, "but I have remembered what I have learned from you. You make it impossible to be deaf to your ramblings, Make peace with the present and retire to the past."
"Your time is finished"
"And what will you do when you need me, when you run out of challenges and you need to remember again, what will you do then big shot? where will I be?" challenged M.J.
"You will be where you have always been." Mikey calmly stood up and walked to M.J., "You will be where it is most comfortable, the fan will be on, the tunes will be rocking and time will not touch you."
"I promise you M.J., I will keep you apprised about real life, and occasionally I will seek your counsel, but your time is officially laminated and put in the photo book. This is the best." saieth Mikey.
"I'm afraid" M.J. said, "that you will let me die, forget I ever was, who will come and see me then."
"Relax, you will remain a part of me, and I you. But today Mikey takes the wheel and reads the map."saieth Mikey,"M.J. rides shotgun and gets to order what he wants from the drive thru and I promise to let you run around at rest stops. O.K.?"
M.J. pondered.
"if the fan breaks downstairs? or I need a new cd player? You will buy it for me?"
"absolutely" saieth Mikey.
M.J. smiled grabbed a mountain dew, and lummoxed his way downstairs.
Mikey stood up, the game long since over with another Michigan victory, took a walk to the patio, and stood once again under the stars.

The Oppressors of Mikey 1:1

At the moment of revelation that forgiveness leads to redemption. Mikey did choose to write down the names of all those who would seek his blood and spirit to trash.
In a time before now, when mikey did carry his melonhead as a burden instead of the blessing it is.
and in a time before now when mikey did secretly wish the spiritual dismemberment of some of those who would try to quash him, those listed here did carry malice when mentioning Mikey.
Mikey gives these souls peace and wishes them blessing in the days and life to come.
The list of the oppressors of mikey is complete as it reads, for Mikey carries no current oppression and through the blessings of the creator will not in the future.
Mikey did write the following names down.
Pete of the Island of Cefalu, Nancy the Ice witch, Kari the moneychanger, the lab experiments gone awry that are Tammy and Barb, That arrogant rat fink at "Entertainment Weekly" that things everyone is out to get him and so carries that chip between everyone and his own commone sense, John Utley( I apologize for calling you a shit kicking redneck in the tenth grade), Angela the Methodist, Dave of Charleston who wouldn't let me move to claims when I asked nicely, The living incarnation of ignorance that is Clan Mys, The foolishness and lack of attention of him known as M.J.(may he be playing pac man somewhere away from me), The cloak of bitterness that was Kevin of Antioch, Sue(who would be 26 though she is closing in on 62 and the devil aint buying to change that for her), Dan Fogelberg and all of his sugar soaked bullshit music that didn't allow me to experience testosterone until 1985, The 1992 Perot for President campaign, Samuel Garcia(the 13 year old kid who stole my car at the time(a 1980 olds cutlass) and couldnt explain to the Bronx police why he didn't have a Michigan drivers license or a Melon head like the license plate said), Tom of Rochester(may he rest in peace), Bob's 24 hour auto repair of Charleston(no doubt your fraudelent ways put your business on a path far worse than the wrath of Mikey), Chip Beale of Florida(give it up dude, you are bald), The nameless freakshow who pursued the 13 year old mikey up and down the halls of Lapeer East one September afternoon hitting him with every large head epithet in the book(melonhead, pumpkinhead, beachball, Saturn, Bowling Ball, Sputnik).
Mikey reviewed the list of names on the paper, whispered a blessing to all those listed, and through the paper in the mighty river and watched it be eaten by a catfish.
"you are all forgiven, go in peace" Saieth Mikey.