This past week, Fiona and I got to play host. ‘Flat’ Stanley Lambchop arrived in an envelope to the Kingdom of Rhode Island for a visit.

He crawled out of his manila travel pouch, and in his unique, high-pitched, two dimensional voice, introduced himself to us, saying, “I’m Stanley, and I’m here to learn about the cultures and customs of your great state.”

As anyone who reads this blog knows, the Kingdom of Rhode Island is as close as one can get to paradise, closer even than Knoxville. Fiona and I, being the goodwill ambassadors we are, set out to show Flat Stanley the wonders of the Biggest Little State in the Union.

On the way he started whining, “It’s fucking cold in this dump. This sucks.” Fiona, ever resourceful, quickly fashioned our flat visitor a hat, mittens and gloves from some extra construction paper we had laying around. This seemed to cheer Stanley up a bit.

“Yes, yes, wonderful. The Ocean State,” said Stanley. “Wow. A sign. So clever. But umm… where’s the ocean?”

I shot Fiona  a glance, the one that says, “Stanley is kind of being a dick, isn’t he?” She just smiled, obviously smitten with Mr. Lambchop’s charms. Ah well. Maybe it’s just me I thought.

The ocean? OK. No problem. We took Flat to see the wonderful Atlantic Ocean, certain that he’d be impressed with the best ocean on the whole planet.

“This the best your state has? It’s a bunch of cold water!” he grumbled. “Shit, this is going to be a long day.”

My feelings exactly. I pondered buying a lighter and making Stanley’s day a bit more interesting by warming him up a bit. That idea was immediately shot down.

Fiona, repeating the one true fact that I know for certain about my state, the one fact that is always sure to impress, asked F.S. “Did you know that the Rhode Island State House has the fourth largest unsupported marble dome in the world, after St. Peter’s Basilica, the Minnesota State Capitol and the Taj Mahal?”

“No, but I bet we’re going there now, aren’t we?”

Yup.

“Well, at least this shitty state is small, so we don’t have to waste the whole fucking day driving around in it!” said Stanley.

OK, I’ve had enough. I took him aside and hissed, “Stanley, what’s your problem?”

“I came here to learn about culture, not all this bullshit!”

“But Stanley, this IS culture!”

“It sucks!”

Fiona asked him, “Well Stan, what kind of culture would you like to learn about?”

Laughing, he cried out, “You know, real culture! Like the ballet!” Then, in the most improbable display of inanimate cardboard animation ever, Stanley grabbed my wallet, shoved me out of the way, and with a scream of “See ya suckers!”  jumped behind the wheel of the Jeep and took off down the highway.

When we finally caught up with Stanley, he was nearly out of money. It took the threat of meeting up with Mr. Shredder to get him out of the club. On the way home, the annoying little bastard started screaming once again.

“Stop! Stop right now!”

“What? Whassamatter now?”

“I need booze! I need cigarettes!”

Fine. Whatever it takes to shut this cardboard character up.

By the time we arrived home, Stanley had slammed a six pack and half a bottle of Rumplemintz. Full of liquid cheer, he suddenly became… almost, but not quite… charming.

“Wow, your state is really great! Thank you so much for such a good time!” Finally, some appreciation from Stanley. Maybe I misjudged him all along. He continued, “Any chance you can go out and get all of us some dinner?”

I knew he was up to something, but it had been a long day, and we were all hungry, so I drove down to Bollie’s Chowder Shack for some good ol’ fashioned RI sustenance – clam cakes and chowdah. When I returned home, I immediately noticed a mysterious trail of confetti leading directly to the bedroom. Following the trail to the end, I couldn’t believe my eyes…

Somehow Flat Stanley had seduced Fiona! I saw the red mist and without even thinking I grabbed this cardboard jackass by his ridiculously long neck, crumpled him into a neat little ball, shoved him in the shredder, lit his remains on fire, threw the ashes of Crispy Stanley Lambchop into an envelope, and mailed him right back to Fictionland, CA where he came from.