(Four bars of crappy, upbeat music)
MEG MEASLE: Hello. My guest today is Mr. Rob Wartley, who is well known in Armhair Grove because he owns most of the town, including this station. Welcome, Mr. Wartley. I’m happy you can join us today.
WARTLEY: Thank you. I’m happy to be here.
MEG MEASLE: Mr. Wartley is not only the biggest landlord in the immediate area and richer than the earth, he has another distinction. Would you like to tell us about it, Mr. Wartley?
WARTLEY: I collect cat hair.
MEG MEASLE: Cat hair? As in hair that grows on cats?
WARTLEY: Yes. I’ve been collecting it for about thirty years now.
MEG MEASLE: Okay. … Why?
WARTLEY: I hate cats and they hate me, but my wife and kids love them. So we always have at least three of the little bloodsuckers in the house and sometimes two or three outside in the yard, too. I finally decided if I had to put up with them they should at least be useful for something besides barfing up hairballs and killing the local birds. So I started collecting their hair whenever they were shedding, and forming it into a ball. This is what it looks like.
(A picture of a giant, multi-colored round thing appears onscreen.)
That year we had the really cold winter and really hot summer was the best. I got enough hair that year that I could have knit a big sweater from it.
MEG MEASLE: Do you keep adding hair to the ball?
WARTLEY: Yes. By now it takes up about a quarter of my garage. I expect it will eventually reach the ceiling in there.
MEG MEASLE: What do you plan to do with a giant hairball?
WARTLEY: I’m going to have it shellacked so it will stay together and set it up in the middle of the dog run over in Robert J. Wartley Park. I want to give every dog in town a chance to pee on it. I’ll put it in my will that it has to stay there as long as the park exists, and if the park is torn down the town has to put it somewhere on Main Street.
MEG MEASLE: You will always be remembered in Armhair Grove, Mr. Wartley.
WARTLEY: That’s the main idea. The other idea is to take revenge on all those little four-footed mutants my wife and kids insisted on having around all those years.
MEG MEASLE: I understand …
WARTLEY: Would anyone ever get a dog for me? No!
MEG MEASLE: I’m sure they …
WARTLEY: A basset hound! One cute little basset hound, with droopy ears. If anyone in my family is watching this, I hope they are listening hard and feeling guilty as hell!
MEG MEASLE: Mr. War …
WARTLEY: “You can’t have a dog in this house! They smell bad!”
(Mr. Wartley continues to rant.)
MEG MEASLE: (Shouting over the ranting) We will now have a message from our sponsor!
(A commercial for a cruise line to the South Pacific is shown.)