"PET ROCK MEETS COUNT CHOCULA"
Pet Rock (PR): Think Woody Allen, inanimately speaking
Count Chocula (CC): One-track mind, speaks in a Transylvanian accent
CC: So, vhat seems to be de problem?
PR: I don't know exactly. Sometimes I feel like everyone has forgotten about me.
CC: Don't be scared…to tell me more.
PR: I just feel like I'm being taken for granted.
CC: Ah, ah, taken for granite! Dat is a super-sweet joke, my friend!
PR: "Granted," not "granite." Sheesh! For someone who's paid to listen to people, you sure don't do a very good job of it.
CC: My apologies. You are correct. Please continue.
PR: The thing is, when I was first adopted, back in '75, I thought life as I knew it would forever change. I mean, one minute I was by the creek bed, the next I was in a cardboard box with straw and breathing holes, sitting on a shelf in Woolworth's. And then…
CC: Yes, go on, please. I am listening.
PR: It's hard to talk when you're crunching like that.
CC: Sorry, I vas trying to satisfy de chocolate monster in me, vith a vitamin-charged bowl of double-chocolatey delight, de delicious super-sweet cereal dat I like to call Count Chocula. Named after me, of course. Ah, ah!
PR: I didn't know these sessions had commercial breaks.
CC: Dey don't. I am sorry. Please continue.
PR: As I was saying, then I was adopted by a wonderful little boy whose name was Frank.
CC: Franken Berry? Dat rascal always tries to find a way to one-up me! Not dis time! Count Chocula vill show him who is de boss!
PR: Not Franken Berry, you schmuck! Frank. Johnson, if you must know. Now, can I please finish my story?
CC: I vill not stop you from telling de story. Please, go on.
PR: Well, things were great at first. Frank adopted me, put me right on top of his toy box. Didn't feed me, didn't walk me, didn't bathe me, didn't groom me. Because I didn't need it. I was, as advertised, "the perfect pet."
CC: Please hold on, just one moment if you vill. I find that I am craving another bowl of delicious chocolate sweeties vith de goblin-good, chocolate-flavored marshmallows. I vill be right back.
PR: Fine, but I'm deducting this out of your hourly rate.
CC: Okay, vhere vere we? Oh yes, you…dis Frank kid…perfect pet. Continue, please.
PR: Anyway, things were going great. He had taught me how to sit, to stay, and even how to roll over – though I had to have a little bit of help with that one. Next he was going to train me to attack, which he said was very much a "team effort." But then one day, about six months after he'd adopted me, Frank just totally lost interest in me.
CC: Vhat makes you say dat?
PR: My first clue was when he traded me to his friend, Scooter, for a mood ring and fifty cents.
CC: Ah, de mood rings. I remember dem vell.
PR: Really? That's all you got out of that?
CC: I'm sorry. Continue.
PR: Well, that's about it. Ever since then, I've been traded, sold, stored in an attic – you name it. Last week, I was taken to the landfill and dropped off, after a thrift store couldn't even get rid of me.
CC: Dat's very sad.
PR: Tell me about it. What do you think I should do?
CC: About vhat, exactly?
PR: If you'd get your face out of your cereal bowl for one second, you might know about "vhat". What am I supposed to do about my feelings of abandonment, about the loneliness that consumes me?
CC: Do you really vant my honest opinion?
PR: That's what I'm paying you for, isn't it?
CC: Presumably, yes.
PR: Okay, what is your honest opinion? What should I do?
CC: I think you should kick back…
CC: Roll up de sleeves…
CC: And sink your spoon into a monstrously large bowl of de world's super-sweet cereal: Count Chocula!
PR: Are you kidding me?
CC: Vhat do you mean, "kidding"? It's a double-chocolatey part of your complete breakfast! How can you go wrong?
PR: This is hopeless!
CC: Dere is no hopeless, but dere is chocolate-flavored marshmallows.
PR: Thank you for your "advice," but I'm going to go jump off a bridge and drown myself now.
CC: How 'bout a monster for breakfast today?
PR: No, thank you, I'd rather die.
CC: But rocks can't die!
PR: Send me the bill, alright?
CC: Don't forget, dere's a Mini-Monster toy inside every box. Collect dem all!
PR: My address is "The Bottom Of The Lake." Goodbye!
CC: Oh vell, you vin some, you lose some! Now vhere did I put dat box of Count Chocula?