And it was!

Those first carefree days in Los Angeles were a delight! He explained so much to me, and although I have later learned that not everything he taught me was exactly the truth, at the time it all seemed to make sense. For example, I now know that dog collars and leashes are usually reserved for Terran canines, but then it seemed quite natural when he asked me to wear one around the house. He also introduced me to an amateur photographer he knew who took some really amazing pictures of me jumping over campfires, laying on the back of Terran equines, and wearing manacles. I actually wore the manacles around the house a lot, anyway, because "Daddy" told me that all "good little boys" did this. No matter how much I protested that I was a grown minion, he would just chuck me under the chin and wink.

Things could have continued like this for a long time, but my idyll with "Daddy" came to an abrupt end on the night he forced me to sneak into an event disguised as a waiter. A visiting sovereign was having dinner at one of the major factories that produce the flickering light images that enthrall so many people here, and virtually every major performer was going to be there. "Daddy" insisted that I disguise myself and sneak in with a hidden camera and get pictures because, as he said, "inquiring minds want to know." So I was dressed up in black pants, a white shirt and black tie, and really spiffy shoes with high heels to make me look taller. It didn't really work. One of the security guards stopped me on the way in and said, "What are you doing here, sonny?" I told him that I was one of the oldest surviving performers from a classic flickering light image entertainment called The Wizard of Oz, but he just chuckled and told me to move along.

I was upset, because I knew that if "Daddy" didn't get his pictures we would have to play "Kick the Midget" that evening, and I was still a little sore from a vigorous session the night before. So I hid in a broom closet in order to ponder my next move.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered that the closet was already occupied! And by someone I knew! Although I have to say that at first I didn't recognize the innocent girl with the big jaw that I had last seen meeting her own "Daddy" at the Los Angeles bus station. She yelped a bit when I came into the closet because she was half in and half out of her own waiter costume, and she was definitely not amused when I snapped a quick picture.

"Hey, shorty, I get paid for those!" she barked.

"Great Orbs of Orando, you're a female human!"

"What the hell did you think I was?" She struggled into a pair of high heels; without them she stood level with me.

"Jay Leno." "Daddy" had told me explicitly that he wanted pictures of this human, and how to recognize him. I was confused. Could there be two people on this wretched planet with a jawline that big?