DEATH of a PUPPET

Thoughts of dog toy and spin cycle wash thru my mind first when I think of a puppet death. That or the last show of ALF that left all of us dangling for a new season, if anything, for a new theme song with more energy and less Golden Girl-ish bland. No, the puppet death involved Willy Weasel, out in the great outdoors, hiking and having a great time with Billy Bigfoot, when suddenly, he dies from heart attack. Really. But puppets don’t die: Ask Charlie McCarthy, Lambchop and Howdy Doody. Oh that’s right. They can’t talk because they’re ‘retired’. Willy Weasel, on the other hand, chose to die on camera in the name of heart health. His minute PSA for the American Heart Association ‘ I should have ‘ is a quick education on the healthy ‘ should do’s ‘ in your life. Yah. I should drink less beer and eat less fried chicken. And lay off the Krispy Kremes. This is a great production, and maybe the kids will learn from Willy’s tragedy wilst having joy and fun and seasons in the sun. Yes. That’s it! We’ll have a new healthy generation to run the world. Realistically, though, the world will run them with all the stresses of modern feudalism and material attachments. They will drink. They will eat. They will smoke. They will take pain killers to keep America the #1 country in the world with pain issues. And then in disenfranchisement, some will welcome the end. Wow. This went down a gloomy road real fast. BTW, the ventriloquists aforementioned died from cancer, not heart failure. And Willy Weasel is still alive. Behold. The power of the puppet.

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