Thursday, July 5, 2012

Wrong Side of the Sesame Street

Ever notice how Sesame Street is in a bad neighbourhood? Have you looked at the street itself. There’s bars on all the windows, first off. That means there’s a high crime rate. Maybe the Cookie Monster breaks into people’s apartments to get money to buy more cookies. He’s essentially a crack head, but with cookies.

Then there’s the street people.

There’s Oscar the Grouch, who live in a garbage can. There’s not an abundance of garbage cans or dumpsters, either, which means that everyone is expected to throw their garbage in the can on top of Oscar, who has a sick garbage fetish. The can itself is really just a disguised entrance to a vast underground area where he actually lives, like Hogan’s Heroes. The can is never emptied, either. That means, beneath the street is a garbage dump being maintained by a single, unpaid worker. There’s no telling how it go there. Oscar likely tunnelled into the sewer and subway systems. He could have broken into the power and water supply too, which explains how he’s able to sustain himself without having to leave his trash can. He’s not trained as an engineer, so his modifications could have dire consequences. He could have weakened the support structure beneath Bert and Ernie’s apartment building, causing it to eventually collapse.

Then there’s Big Bird, who lives in a back alley and has schizophrenia. He’s constantly talking to an imaginary friend Snuffleupagus that no one else can see. That means he has very serious mental issues which aren’t being addressed. The same could be said for Grover, or Super Grover (as he’d like to be called), who’s suffering from delusions of grandeur, possibly brought on by bath salts.

Then you need to factor in that there’s no traffic, despite it being an open street. That means no one wants to drive down there, perhaps for fear of being shot. That means there’s a lot of gang activity you’re not seeing.

Then there’s the kids, like Elmo, who have about zero parental supervision. They’re constantly being watched by random adult who live on the street, but have no ties to his family. That’s probably because they’re scared shitless someone’s going to come to their street and steal the kids, and they can’t call the cops to help because the police have given up on Sesame Street a long time ago.

Did I mention 50% of the people there are monsters? That bears mentioning. Probably all that trash Oscar’s squirreled away has caused mutations over the years. Or maybe Sesame Street is over the Hell Mouth.

Then there’s the humans who live on sesame street. There’s only one business, Mr.Hoopers, and aside from the people who work there, no one else seems to have a job. They’re all out on the street in the morning, or the middle of the day, meaning they don’t work. That means they’re probably on welfare. Plus, no two of them are ever the same race and only the celebrity guests are white. There’s about two red monster and two blue ones, meaning the monsters form the ethic majority. That means monsters control local politics. All laws are monster laws. That probably explains why there’s no garbage pick-up, police, traffic control, or school system. Did I mention there’s no school system? Little monsters like Elmo don’t go to school. They have to learn everything from the street.

Elmo, by the way, is a wizard. In the Harry Potter universe he’d be at Hogwarts. He has a magical crayon that he’s used to create his own world. That’s sorcery. He can even open portals by drawing doors or windows. His magic window in his apartment looks out a closed set occupied by Mr.Noodles and Mr.Noodle’s brother, Mr.Noodles. You never see those two on Sesame Street, where Elmo lives, which means they’re trapped in there. He’s captured them in another dimension, or maybe he conjured them up from the abyss. Plus, he can seemingly teleport himself into anyone’s kitchen where there’s a baby in a high chair, to ask the baby a question and then give them kisses. Elmo is kissing our babies whenever we turn away to make lunch in our kitchens.

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