© 2004
TROCHANTER PRODUCTIONS
In Cooperation with
UNDISCLOSED LOCATIONS, LTD.
Presents: Gregor the Lotus
In
THE GERMINATOR
Before we begin, I have a short announcement. In compliance with the Patriot Act, I was required to submit my thoughts to censors at the Dept. of Homeland Insecurity and that made a few small edits, which do not, I repeat do not detract from the quality of the story.
“One morning, Gregor woke up….
(Turn several pages, hesitate, turn several more pages)
“And lived happily ever after.”
This is what the censors cut out:
On a morning, just like tomorrow, Gregor spread his leaf expecting to be able to stretch on Muddy Waters Pond, just like he did every day…well, almost every day. But though he twisted and turned he could not find enough room.
“Would you be willing to shove over?” he asked a neighbor.
“Sure,” said the amiable Lotus nearby. “I’d be willing but I’m not able. In case you haven’t noticed, Muddy Waters Pond is cluttered with a yucky, oozy goo that’s taken over most of the pond. We Loti have all been squeezed into a small corner. Its sucking up all the oxygen, like it owns it. Once it gets onto your leaf, it takes over until you drown in the ooze. It’s very intolerant of other plants.”
Gregor looked around and for the first time admitted to himself that he had been gasping for a long time. He had tried to ignore it by meditating, but the ooze just kept advancing and now that he could no longer avoid it, enough was enough.
It all started, Gregor recalled, when someone planted ugly Bushes on the shores of Muddy Waters Pond. They just flopped there like a sloppy Tadasana.
A few of the Loti wanted to get rid of them and were looking around for support. That was when Ascholt came along.
Now no one seemed to actually know who Ascholt was. He just turned up one day. He had charm to spare and really prodigious roots that impressed everyone when he flexed them. And since he had never done anything worthy of note, no one had anything against him. So he was chosen head lotus. Besides, he had such a nice smile.
“It’s too expensive to remove them,” he said of the Bushes. “Why not just cover them up. Otherwise we will have to raise taxes.”
“A cover-up!” some Loti screamed.
“No more taxes!” others yelled.
In the end Ascholt’s scheme prevailed.
“I know where we can get some reeds that will do the trick,” he told the assembled Loti. “They grow fast and it won’t be long before no one will notice the ugly Bushes.”
“Where do you get these reeds?” someone asked.
“De Nile,” explained Ascholt, impressing everyone with his knowledge of geography.
And so, to avoid new taxes, the Loti of Muddy Waters Pond planted Ascholt’s reeds of De Nile that they hoped would cover up the ugly Bushes.
Soon reeds of De Nile were all over the place and had turned into oozing slime, crowding out Loti, choking the fish and amphibians. Worse yet, the ugly Bushes were still there.
Gregor shivered at the recollection.
“Coming through!” shouted a raspy voice. In the next instant a salamander popped up close by, her head covered in yellow yuck.
“Who are you?” Gregor asked as he pulled his leaf back to avoid a collision.
“Sally,” said the sleek amphibian.
“What’s the rush, Sally?” Gregor asked as he tried to unwrinkled the crease in his leaf.
“Sorry,” said Sally, “I’m choking on reeds of De Nile just like everyone else in the pond and needed some air fast.”
Gregor shook out his leaf. “Yes, I know,” he said sadly. “But what can we do? It is so invasive. Once it started, there was no stopping it.”
Sally flicked her long tongue. “Actually, we can do something – but it won’t be easy. We have to get to the root of the problem and to do that we have to go back to the beginning….”
Gregor scratched his leaf. “I don’t understand.”
“To get rid of the De Nile reed,” she explained. “we have to go back to before the time Ascholt planted it. It’s too invasive to get rid of now and we have to get the ugly Bushes when they were still little sprouts.”
“How do we do this going back in time thing?” Gregor asked.
“Close your eyes,” said Sally, “click your roots together and say ‘Anti-Em(perialism) three times.
“Anti-Em(perialism)!” Gregor exclaimed. “Do you really expect that a hackneyed 60′s slogan will get rid of reeds of De Nile?”
“It’s working for Michael Moore,” Sally shrugged.
Gregor cleared his throat. “Why do I have to close my eyes?”
“You can’t return to where you once were,” she explained patiently, “if you’re paying attention to where you are. It’s obvious. I warn you though, we’re in for a fight.”
And so, Gregor dusted off his old warrior pose, closed his eyes, clicked his roots together, coughed up an Anti-Em(perialism) and presto, they were back in time.
“Look!” said Sally pointing excitedly, “there’s Ascholt. He’s morphing.”
There, before their eyes was Ascholt morphing into a bulging hamstring and dog-posing before a Bush.”
“Why that’s the oiliest looking Bush I’ve ever seen,” Gregor exclaimed.
“Shush,” Sally hushed him.
“Oh, great oily Bush,” winced Ascholt the Hamstring, who was now stretched to the limit. “What do you command of me?”
“We Bushes have had our first metatarsal so firmly planted in what was that we can hardly move now,” said oily Bush. “We need you to move us over to that pond.”
Ascholt looked over at Muddy Waters Pond and shrugged. “Nice pond, Why?”
“It’s not oily enough, yet,” oily Bush explained. “I want you to germinate it.”
“How do you want me to do it?” Ascholt asked.
“Here, take this bag of seeds of reeds of De Nile, but be sure to plant them in the water or they won’t germinate,” oily Bush said looking at his watch. “Oops, missed another roll call….Oh by the way, watch out for a slinky salamander and a yogi lotus named Gregor. If the catch wind of our plans we’re in trouble. Give ‘em the big shivasana,” oily Bush winked, ” and see that they don’t come out of it.” Heh Heh.
“Oh my,” Gregor exhaled, putting a non-existent hand in front of his non-existent mouth as Ascholt morphed back into a lotus.
“We have to stop him from getting elected head lotus,” Sally declared.
Just then, Ascholt picked up his head.
“Now we’ve done it,” Gregor said. “He’s heard us. I think that we should get out of here.”
“That’s a 10 on my duck index,” said Sally.
They ran and ran until they were able to hide behind some rocks. “I wish you hadn’t said that,” said Sally when she thought they were safe.
“Said what?”
“Should,” Sally replied, putting her claws on her salamander hips. “You shouldn’t say should.”
“So I shouldn’t say should, shouldn’t I,” Gregor snapped.
“He’s coming!” Sally interrupted, “and he’s morphed back into a hamstring and he’s bearing down on us!”
“No problemo,” Gregor replied with bravado, suppressing a yawn. “I can stop that big ugly muscle-bound plant with four sentences, watch.”
Gregor stepped out from the hiding place. “You are getting too close,” he told the germinator.
“I’m not close enough,” the angry hamstring replied as he charged forward.
“You should reflect on the root causes of your anger,” Gregor suggested. “Shall we explore your anger?”
“I’ll feel a lot better when you’re in my dinner salad,” said the hamstring as he went into flexion.
“You’re just acting out your own powerlessness,” Gregor told him next.
“Hasta la vista, baby,” the Germinator replied as he prepared to lunge.
“And your fly is unzipped,” Gregor pointed.
“Huh?” said the Germinator, looking down.
“Run!” Gregor yelled to Sally.
“Nice job,” Sally muttered between pants as they ran. “Very impressive.”
Gregor smiled as much as possible for a lotus on the run. “The last statement always works,” he huffed. “After the first three, they’ll believe anything.”
“What do we do now?” Sally asked, nearly out of breath.
“Into the pond,” said Gregor. “A bulging hamstring doesn’t swim well. He’ll have to morph into a lotus. I’ll tangle his roots. You jump on his leaf and shred him.”
That’s what they did. Gregor snarled Ascholt’s roots and Sally began shredding his leaf until it looked like Dick Cheney’s Energy Task Force Report.
When Ascholt was finally sunk in the mud, Gregor turned to Sally and asked, “Would you be willing to celebrate?”
“Meets my needs,” Sally replied happily.
But just as they lifted a flute of Muddy Waters to toast, the big ugly hamstring burst to the surface of the pond and loomed over them like a drooling moose, roaring like a maniac. The waters seemed to part as the muscle, first in flexion and then in extension wormed its way after them- unstoppable.
“Shit,” Gregor exclaimed. “I’m plumb out of poses. Any ideas?”
“In there,” Sally pointed to the briar patch of ugly Bushes. “At least it will slow Ascholt down.”
“What now?” Gregor asked as they nestled under the nettles.
“I’ll have to consult my Sutras,” Sally told him as she sat back on her long tail, crossed her hind salamander legs and brought her fore-claws together in a prayerful pose. “Ah yes,” she said after a while, “here it is, but I’ll need some help. The Germinator is very powerful and to defeat him we have to all work together.
Okay folks, let’s say it: ‘shred’im, sock’im, an’sink’im, Again, shred’im, sock’im, an’sink’im’”
“One down, two to go,” said Sally.
“How do we sock’im?” Gregor asked.
“He’s not properly stretched,” Sally pointed out. “Let’s give him the old twisted Trikanasana routine.”
As the hamstring got to the patch of ugly Bushes, Sally jumped up to his side. Ascholt turned his hip and extended to grab her but as he did, Gregor popped up on his other side. “Nyah, Nyah, Nyah.”
Ascholt turned his shoulder in an abrupt jerky attempt to reach for the insolent lotus but just as he did, there was a “pop”.
“Ouch,” the Germinator screamed, his hamstring throbbing. He flopped down helplessly and began to writhe in pain, tearing up the bushes around him.
“Better than expected,” said Sally. “He’s popped his Achilles too.”
“You dropped the seeds, you big lout!” oily Bush yelled as Ascholt rolled over on him. They both reached frantically for the bag of seeds. “Watch it, you’re damaging my roots!” oily Bush screamed.
They flipped and they flopped all over the briar patch, ripping up the bushes as they fumbled for the bag of seeds until they were so tangled up that they could not escape each other.
“Now let’s sink’em,” Sally urged as she picked up the bag of seeds.
Together, they pushed Ascholt and oily Bush into the pond where they thrashed and thrashed until exhausted, they sank beneath the rippling waters. And the last words Gregor and Sally heard as Ascholt went under were: “I’ll be back!”
“I would feel comfortable if we burned those seeds,” said Gregor, pointing at the bag Sally was holding. “We don’t want another head lotus to get a hold of seeds of reeds of De Nile, now do we? Yes or no?”
Sally looked down at the bag. “Yes,” she agreed. “Reeds of De Nile are a weapon of mass distraction.”
“Well, that’s that,” said Gregor a short while later, rubbing his hands together over the fire.
“Maybe,” Sally replied skeptically.
“What do you mean?” asked Gregor. “They’re sunk.”
Sally shook her head. “You heard what Ascholt said. We won’t know for sure whether we have changed the future until the next chapter, “Morning/Mourning in Muddy Waters.” She looked off across the pond wistfully. ” And it’s up to you Loti to make sure we get the spelling right.”
The End
As usual, Gregor™ souvenirs are available in the lobby. In addition to tee-shirts and water bottles, this year we have three exciting new Gregor™ products. The “Gregor” DVD entitled “Profitable Poses” featuring interviews with an expert panel of orthopedists, physical therapists, acupuncturists and chiropractors giving tips on the Yoga poses that make them the most money. The Gregor bobblehead, sure to be a collector’s item and Lotus in Mud Cake that has just flown in all the way from the Greyston Bakery in Yonkers to be one with Judith Lasater. Join us for a taste.
Namaste.
