139 “Shake down the thunder from the sky!”

The blue uncloudy sky beside, above, and beyond Mount Tamalpais was like an envelope a propos the affixed commemorative stamp of Kelly and Regis in the giant plasma screen. It wavered slightly with the wind currents high above earth while the Little League champions and petites amies held it tight as their free arms flapped, but the LIVE! WITH REGIS AND KELLY stars were in no way distorted. It was interactive television, most flagrantly advanced. Although Kelly, a full mile above Magnolia Avenue, was an image broadcast from her New York studio, her compelling facsimile managed to drop real hand grenades donated by the sponsors on northern California targets. If she hadn’t become the great media legend and driving force of morning entertainment, she might have found success as an athlete. Each explosive landed perfectly within a pack of bicyclists hogging the road. One grenade surprised and, it goes without saying, destroyed several at a stop light doing their bothersome little balancing act on bike pedals rather than succumb to gravity and common sense. All their concentration was on not putting their feet to the pavement; then kapow! The sophistication of the brand was such there was no damage in the intersection – not a car marred, not a crosswalk button dinged – beyond the unworthy flesh of the villains in the village and their idiotic if expensive two wheeled contraptions. Reeg remarked each lob had perfect timing, the way spiral passes dropped into the hands of receivers, All American quarterback to All American tight end, in the glory years at Notre Dame.

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