I don’t need to tell you the story of the Betty Boards, you know the story of the Betty Boards. This is the story of the Betty Boards.
Once upon a time, there was a fair maiden who wandered into a cave occupied by bears. (And Bear, but that’s not important right now.)
Realizing within minutes that she was indeed a woman, the hairy bears attempted to mount her, but she did a karate-style move and punched one of the bears (the one that looked like Brian-Doyle Murray) in his bear-dick. The bears were impressed by this show of toughness and asked the princess to join their family
Did she have any skills, the bears wondered. Honestly, some of the bears wondered that. The pretty bear was just kind of staring into space mumbling a song about using laser eyes on people, but since the other bears were acting as if that happened a lot, I don’t think we should worry about it.
Well, I’m pretty good at recording the live doodlings of country influenced improvisational groups with delusions of grandeur, the princess replied.
The bears were excited, as it turns out that they were, in fact, that very type of band
And what else, the bears inquired.
I used to work at a home for the criminally insane and sexually cantankerous, the princess said.
That will come in very handy, the bears answered.
And I look spectacular with the light streaming in from behind me, the princess told the bears.*
Your nose looks very Jewish in that photo, said one of the bears whom I won’t identify because he had been drinking and it was Billy.
The princess didn’t dignify that with a response.
Welcome to the family, the bears cheered after the ones who had taken too much cocaine roused the ones who had taken too much heroin.
Do you know where I can rent a storage locker, asked the princess.
And they all lived happily ever after, except for the keyboardist bears who all died.
* As noted in the comment below, this photo is NOT of Betty, but instead of the polymath Rosie McGee, whose wonderful book Dancing with the Dead can be ordered at her website, and who, through her pictures, told the story of the Dead as well as any doorstop-sized book. Sorry, Rosie.