I Love To Climb Trees Part III

The Oompa Loompa Games: The Michael Jackson Interview Part III

Mandatory Disclaimer:
THIS IS A JOKE!!! The following is a work of fiction, from beginning to end. If you are looking for the truth about the King of Pop, look elsewhere. This is a parody, and should be taken as such. And, for those of you with any sense of decency, you've been forewarned -- this column may be detrimental to your mental health. Enjoy...

As I mentioned at the end of the previous installment of this debacle I’ve decided to term an “interview,” the Oompa Loompas had made their first appearance in the hut Michael and I were conversing in. Now, when I say Oompa Loompas, I mean just that. It’s not as if these were midgets in costume (or little people for those of you offended by terms like midget), or even Jacko’s kids dressed up to play. These were freaking Oompa Loompas, just as you might recall them from the Willy Wonka flick of our youth. They moved in cartwheels, and somersaults; they never spoke to anyone but Michael, and when they did, it was in secretive whispers. I’ve heard people in the past mention that they were frightened of the oompa loompas, and I must say that witnessing them rolling around in front of me, I was a little freaked out. Before I had the chance to really take in this entire spectacle, though, they were gone -- just as quickly and mysteriously as they had appeared.

Jay: Umm…Michael…what the dealy-o?

MJ: With what? Oh, do you mean with my oompas?

J: Yes, Michael. What in god’s name was that?

MJ: Oh, just my oompa loompas. You’ve come here on a really great day for Neverland.

J: Really, why’s that?

MJ: Well, it’s time for the Oompalympics.

Note to self…oh for the love of satan…

J: Oompalympics, Michael?

MJ: Yes, the Olympics with Oompa Loompas. Would you like to be a judge? They’re about to start.

Note to self…this I’ve gotta see.

J: Might as well, Michael.

MJ: Cool. I’ve gotta go get ready. You sure you don’t want any crack? I could probably get Bubbles to share, depending on his mood. You know monkeys -- either they’re throwing poop at you, or they want you to play with their bananas…

J: No, Michael. I’ll just shoot up while I’m waiting…

Well, for all intents and purposes, this was the conclusion of the interview. I probably should stop here, but I can’t. I must share the events that followed with all of you…

Initially, I just sat in my metal chair trying to get my brain to grasp the concept ahead of me. Michael has Oompa Loompas. Michael has created a day of games, specifically for his Oompa Loompas. I’m about to see these little green-haired, red/orange faced, white eye browed freaks of nature compete before me. My mind is trying to generate some type of visualization to complete this juggernaut, but it can’t. Thankfully, though, I was about to experience the real thing.

Now, before I get to the games…let me fill you in on a little background info. The Oompa Loompas are apparently a very prevalent faction of this planet’s underworld. They have their own professional sports -- the OLISL (Oompa Loompa International Softball League) -- called affectionately Loompa Ball. They also have their own airline, Loompa Air. There is even a society dedicated to the protection of the Oompas -- PETOL (People for the Ethical Treatment of Oompa Loompas). Unbelievable, right? Well, you’ll find the weblinks for each of these organizations at the conclusion of this article. I strongly suggest that you check them out for yourself.

Now, on to the Oompalympics --

I was informed that there would be 5 events in these 21st games of the Oompalympiad. I would be joined by two other judges, the aforementioned Maculay Culkin, and Emanuel Lewis (or Webster as you may know him, and as I would refer to him). I was led out to the scene of the crime by my cohorts, and prepared myself for the opening ceremonies. The field itself was fairly normal, although it was covered in purple grass, and contained various “midget-sized” apparatuses (i.e. a midget blocking sled and the midget pommel horse). I was handed a list of the 5 events by Webster (who, incidentally, doesn’t like to be called that -- my shins will attest the power of the midget orphan, when angered). Anyways…the events were as follows:

1. The Saber Duel
2. The Milking Contest
3. The Crip Walk
4. The 7 meter Dash
5. This one I’ll save till you read it…

It was at this point in the festivities that the opening ceremonies commenced. The Oompas marched on to the field each representing their own dominions (apparently). They each had their own flags, and each wore their own individual get-up. To my amazement, this must be a serious thing around these parts…because each Oompa, as he passed the judges stand, saluted. The stands were not filled to capacity. Apparently the only ones interested in these games, outside of the judges, were Bubbles (who was steadily puffing away on his crack pipe), Michael’s children (who were all hidden beneath a tent), and Miss Liz Taylor (who seemed more interested in the smoked turkey that sat before her). Michael did not make his appearance at this point…but he would soon enough.

Event 1: The Saber Duel Highlights
It quickly became evident that the preliminaries of this competition were set up in order to find an ultimate opponent for Jacko. I could bore you with the details of the countless oompa battles that led up to the main even, but what’s the point. Let’s get right down to the nitty gritty, so to speak. The finals of the Saber Duel would feature Big Pedro (the oompa champion so named because he was a full inch taller than the rest of the oompas) vs. the King of Pop (the man, the myth, the legend). I must admit, the tension was high…and I really found myself an anxious wreck waiting for MJ to burst on to the scene. The introductions were made, a la any boxing event in recent history…first Big Pedro was announced…and he made his way to the ring dressed as none other than Yoda. The little green oompa was really quite convincing flipping and cart wheeling his way down the aisle. Then, the ultimate in contradiction: MJ was announced. I was in shock. The Imperial March began to play (or Darth Vader’s theme, if you please)…and MJ emerged from the woods surrounding the field. He was dressed in what was clearly a Darth Vader costume…with a few modifications. First of all, the suit was pink, from helmet to cape to boots…clearly akin to something that the Dark Lord might have worn if he had been more interested in swallowing swords, than cutting off the hands of his son. He wore the trademark glove on his hand, and had a surgical mask covering the mouth area of the helmet. As if that wasn’t enough, just to set the outfit off, Michael had a bright orange, sequined cod piece. I was…well…disturbed at the sight of this. He carried what apparently was the standard method of attack in this event, essentially a nerf sword. Big Pedro and MJ entered the purple ring and immediately began to whack the crap out of each other. Big Pedro seemed to concentrate on the midsection of the King, while Michael couldn’t seem to put together any type of defensive attack. It was over almost as quickly as it began. The barrage by Big Pedro had left Michael a beaten “man.” He ended this first even in the fetal position -- nothing more than a big, pink loser…struggling for breath, with only the occasional “hee hee,” escaping his lips.

Event 2: The Milking Contest
Well…this one really wasn’t even a contest. The oompas had no chance whatsoever in this one. For this event, the first contestant to fill a 16 oz. Glass with milk would be the victor. Each oompa entered the arena, one by one, with their milking beast of choice. There was a squirrel, 2 cats (I have nipples, Ken…could you milk me?), a midget moose, a penguin, a Chihuahua, and a duck-billed platypus. Then Michael entered the area, with his obvious choice of milking partner, a giant Clydesdale. Let me just say that this was quite a little flurry of an event. It took Michael all of 15 seconds to fill the glass. Webster remarked that the size of Michael’s hands were the obvious reason for his remarkable success. Apparently, regardless of size, an oompa would have great difficulty manipulating the teat of any animal. After his victory, Michael came over to the judges to shoot the breeze, while we waited for the next event to be set up. Webster remarked to Michael that he still had a little milk on his chin, which he did. Michael wiped the “milk” from his chin and put his finger in his mouth. “Yummy, “ he said. I felt the need to comment here --

J: Great job, Michael.

MJ: Thanks, me and Butch make a great team. He’s such a great horse. My neck really hurts, though.

He’s….such…a…

Disturbing, just disturbing.

Event 3: The Crip Walk
For those of you unfamiliar with the Crip Walk…I apologize. I’d love to explain it some way, but it’s something that you have to see to comprehend. On the other hand, though, for those of you that do know what the crip walk looks like…you should already have the visual before you. Yes, I was witness to a group of Oompa Loompas doing the trademark “walk” of the crips…one half of the most notorious street gang equation in Los Angeles. An oompa by the name of King Loco was judged to be the overwhelming victor of this event. King Loco was quite a sight to see -- imagine a buff, fully tattooed, chain smoking Oompa. This was King Loco. Unfortunately for Michael, the “crotch grab” is not allowed in an official “Crip Walk Off,” so he was quickly disqualified from the competition.

Event 4: The 7 Meter Dash
There’s nothing to tell here. It was the one “normal” event of the Oompalympics. It was, well, a seven yard race. Michael had this one in the bag in two steps. The Oompas spent too much time rolling and flipping their way towards the finish. So, going in to the final event…the battle was even: two events for MJ, two events for the Oompas.

Event 5: Hide the Sausage
This was the great climax of the Oompa Games…the epic battle…the final test. Now, I’d heard of this game before, and I definitely wanted no part of it. Apparently, though, Michael and his diminutive army had a different set of rules for their “hide the sausage” game. Maculay explained that the game essentially entailed each combatant tying to steal as many sausages from his opponent as possible. Each contestant was given 3 sausages to hide somewhere on their persons, and placed at equal intervals around the field. Then the game began. Needless to say, this is something that each of you out there are probably picturing as we speak. I won’t go into detail about where Michael hid his sausages, but let’s just say that the Oompa’s really only had a shot at getting one from him. See, Michael was running around with one sausage in his mouth, the other two “hidden.” The oompas really didn’t have any chance here either…because it was obvious that Michael was a pro when it came to searching the clothing of small people. His hands were all over the place, and he quickly amassed such a lead that the Oompas all but gave up. At this point in the “contest,” Michael took the sausage out of his mouth and began taunting the oompas.

MJ: Who wants to touch my sausage? Who? I am the sausage master.

Then he started chasing the oompas around the field, whacking them in the head with his tubes of meat. The other judges and I decided that enough was enough. We named Michael the winner of the contest, and the games.

I’ve never seen anything like this before, and I’m fairly certain that I’ll never see anything like this again.

J: Well, Michael…I’d like to thank you for your time in giving me this interview.

MJ: No problem. Thanks for sticking around to check out the oompa games.

J: I’ll never forget it, MJ. So, now what?

MJ: Oh, it’s time to hit the showers. Wanna join us? We usually take turns dropping the soap to celebrate…

And with that, I ran for the gates of Neverland…

As I was escaping, the sounds of the Oompas singing haunted me…

Oompa Loompa doompity dan,
Run, my friend as fast as you can…
Or a slave you soon will be too…
Like the Oompa, Doompa, Doompity Doo..

Links to Oompa info:

OLISL

OOMPA AIR

PETOL

THE END