University of Virginia Library

Belchfire Eight

"Think of sitting behind the
wheel of a 400-horsepower,
chromium-plated, 72 Belchfire
Eight," cried a typical member of
the Mao Tse Vanderbilt Commune,
his eyes lighting up. "Man, what a
turn-on."

So it was that across the nation
a million hippies filtered out of
their communes and back into
society, determined to spend
money. Their only problem was
they didn't have any.

There was but one alternative.
"We must," said the Maharishi
with a cosmic sigh of despair, "go
to work."

Thus the male hippies shaved
their beards, the female hippies
shaved their legs, and they all got
square haircuts, square clothes and
square outlooks. And out they
marched to find work.

No one was more pleased than
Mrs. Mitchell. "Isn't it marvelous,"
she said, "that our marvelous
President's marvelous economic
plan has caused even these horrible
lazy worthless louts to go out and
seek honest jobs?"

But, unfortunately, of course,
there weren't any.

Indeed, with unemployment
already over 6 per cent, the one
thing the country didn't need was
another million job seekers.

"These rotten hippies are trying
to take the jobs of honest working
men!" cried the labor leaders.
Unemployment figures soared.
Stocks plummeted. Breadlines
lengthened, chaos ruled. And the
frustrated hippies launched a
revolution.

The nation was saved when the
Maharishi suddenly discovered
that navel contemplating could be
fun, as long as the navel you
contemplated belonged to a
member of the opposite sex. So the
hippies retired again to their
communes and peace uneasily
returned.

But the revolution was not
without its benefits. For the first
time, the nation realized that the
very existence of the competitive
American free enterprise system
depends on having a bunch of lazy,
worthless louts around who have
rejected riches, success and honest
toil.

Ever since them, hippies have
been revered.