Mini-Mall: The Promised Land.

They wandered. For forty years, they wandered searching and searching for lands promised to their forefathers so long ago. They trudged through parking lots, trekking over the blinding white lines and steaming tarmac, hoping for a mere glimpse of the air-conditioned oasis of legend. Marty, the slightly dyslexic son of a hippie led the group of sweaty teenagers on their quest. Through deserts of asphalt, over thin strips of thirsty grass surrounded by low curbs of concrete, they stumbled onward with just one thought in their minds: Mini-Mall.

And then when they found it, they bought postcards.

And then, individually wrapped McDonald's burgers rained from heaven! Oh, how could anyone ever erase those glorious packages, raining from above, with golden drops of pure, flaming, greasy fat swirling around their papery shells from their memory! And the scent of overheated cattle mingling with that luscious aroma of wilted lettuce! Ah, bliss.

Marty said, "It is good, my peeps! Let us partake of this heart-stopping feast!" And there was much joy, dancing, and sitting on uncomfortable mall-issue chairs that left imprints on those body parts with came in contact with them. The strange aroma of twenty sweaty teens wafted over the hall of feasting to the noses of The Powers That Be. An aloof voice sounded from above:

"Security to the Food Court, please. Security to the Food Court."

From the depths of the Underworld, or "The Basement," there came giant apes. Summoned by the All Knowing Voice from Above, they came bearing nightsticks and ugly looks. The largest gorilla opened the gash in Its face that was Its mouth, and as Its voice sounded, Its chins shook with the force. It said, "Move along, kids." And It spoke again. "Either buy somethin' or go take a shower."

Marty's people ran in fear of the hideous creatures, overturning waste bins and small children in a stampede towards the exit. And they huddled in the parking lot and wept over their loss. "We have found the Promised Land and it has been taken from us! Woe, woe unto us!" they cried. "The Land our fathers spoke of, that land in which they had lived before us, is lost! Woe!" Marty stood and addressed his bunch of hooligans.

"Fear not, my peeps, for I give you good news! Last night, I had the trippiest dream, and like, there was a little dude with a kazoo, and he was, like, I don't know, blowing it at one of the security guards, and Lo! He totally fell down!" And there was much rejoicing. Marty spoke: "Who among you dudes and dudettes is, like, brave enough to undertake this most essential endeavor?" A youth named Jack stood up in the midst of his fellows.

"I will do it, Marty, for the sake of our forefathers!" he said. He stepped forth as his peers lauded his bravery. Marty reached inside his dirty, tie-dyed tunic and brought out the Kazoo.

"Take this, young Jack. Take it and blow your way back into the Promised Land!" Marty said as he presented the Kazoo to the youth. And the crowd set forth, following the trumpeting Kazoo bearer back across the pavement. After forty minutes and forty seconds of walking in circles, they came once more to the gates of the Mall. Jack gave a mighty toot and they charged back inside with a shout of triumph.

And the primates dropped their doughnuts and stood. "Hey! Didn't we tell you kids to leave?" the voice of the largest boomed out over the hall. The young travelers were undaunted and continued forward.

In a single file line, they surrounded the guards and circled relentlessly, tooting and chanting, "We will, we will, ROCK YOU! HOO-HAH!" After seven minutes, the last guard had fallen to the ground, overwhelmed by the stench of twenty un-deodorized adolescent armpits. And there was much rejoicing.

Marty stood before his people and clapped his hand on Jack's shoulder. "My peeps, thanks to this lil' dude right here, we are now free to live in the land promised to us by our fathers! Let my people... HANG OUT!" And the cheers of the youth rang out and echoed throughout the various chambers of Promised Land, rattling merchandise made in China and knocking overpriced clothing from its racks. There they lived out their days in peace.