Wicked little secrets

Today I am going to educate you all about a subject very near and dear to my heart: annoying pet peeves and why I hate them. I’m sure each of you has a list with numerous evil and demented phenomena, people or things, but seeing as how this is my column, I’m going to write to you about my biggest phobias.

First and most horrifying of all are Oompa-Loompas. Don’t laugh. I’m anti-Oompa-Loompa. I admit it. I’m not proud of it, but they truly scare me. I’ve looked into their beady little eyes and seen nothing but mayhem a-brewin’. They’re out to get each and every one of us so slowly that we may all die natural deaths before they can strike, but still they plot. Don’t try to defend them: I know their agenda. They live in a Chocolate Factory for goodness’ sake! I fear Willie Wonka almost as much as his fiendishly wicked friends. He obviously has some sort of disorder. Just look at him. No wonder he hired a bunch of fat, dancing green-haired demons to keep watch over his chocolate river.

These little creatures are pure evil. Did you know that the words in their name can be rearranged to spell “a palp moo moo”? I don’t know what that means exactly, but I’ve got a feeling it has something to do with the P-O-L-I-C-E and the “sniff, sniff.” They’re out to get us all. Just look around. How many Oompa-Loompas have you seen recently? None? Because they’re in disguise. If you haven’t seen any at all, then that’s all the more proof they’re out there. If they aren’t doing anything illegal, why won’t they just come out in public where they can be criticized and stoned?

What’s that? Where are those shrill voices coming from? NOOOOOO!!! It’s those vicious Oompa-Loompas, and they’re dancing! Their sinister words are resonating in my ears, “Oompa-Loompa, doompa dee do. I’ve got a perfect puzzle for you. Oompa-Loompa, doompa dee dee. If you are wise you’ll listen to me.” The song gets louder and louder and fill every inch of the Chocolate Factory with melodious evil, the likes of which I’m sure Satan is much accustomed to. The Oompa-Loompas strike again.

As much as I’d love to write forever about the ways in which I’d like to torture an Oompa-Loompa, many of the methods I most enjoy are rather lengthy.

Onto the other thing that bothers me to the point of throwing myself or someone else out the window: sad clowns. You know what I’m talking about. I’m not the only one who has seen them.

Clowns are meant to be happy, cheerful and humorous, not angry, lonely, and suicidal. They’re supposed to entertain and let little children pounce on their wildly oversized shoes. Some sad clowns don’t even have oversized shoes. Maybe that’s why they’re so sad. Nevertheless, they haven’t earned the right to be made into porcelain statues with big teardrops on their cheeks. It’s just plain creepy. I advocate a nationwide, no, a worldwide destruction of all sad clown paraphernalia. Wouldn’t it make the world a much happier place?

Well, those are just some of my pet peeves. I’ll save discussing Baby Dimples and her reign of terror for some other time. She’s watching me. I know it. What’s she doing with that tape of “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory?” Oh God, the voices!!!

[Jana Eisenstein, a freshman in the College of Arts and Sciences, is a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press.]

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