"Please do not consider my actions impertinent as it is not my intention to traverse the dewy mead of propriety but I have just one wish before I die; it is to make love to you with the rabid ferocity of a canine beast animal!" Giuseppe De Cavalcante was waxing romantic to the replica of Whoopie Goldberg that stands outside Madame Tussauds in Times Square. Without waiting for an answer, Giuseppe pulled his trousers down past his ass and began, by forcible ingress, to discharge his wish from behind. Whoopie began to rock. Guiseppe took off his neck scarf to wipe the sweat from his brow. To the casual observer this would have been a moment frozen in time - something to cherish, a slice of life's comic absurdity - if it wasn't for our country's continued unwillingness to deal with the race issue.
The throngs of torpid tourists lined up outside Applebees next door looked on in horror. Prudence Goodhome from Janesville, Wisconsin muttered something about how there should be laws against that kind of thing. Her companion pointed out that there indeed were and soon Whoopie was lynched from the overhang outside the "museum," her shiny skin reflecting the neon tapestries of a gangrenous age.