Report on First Annual Evil Day Weekend

As the person who created Socially Responsible Stalking (although circumstances have forced me to resign my office), evil comes naturally. So, I embraced the suggestion of an annual Evil Day Weekend to prove my continued loyalty to wicked behavior.

Friday Night: My cohorts and I met at the Hollywood Bowl to enjoy the devilish music of John Williams.

The E.T. theme inspired cruelty. “Tonight,” I declared. “We observe concert etiquette and then share fried chicken, potato salad, and brownies during intermission.”

The bored looks of my followers communicated hesitation to engage in extreme indecency. I opened the bag of chicken. They became putty in my demonic hands.

Saturday Night: “A small dinner party is a thorn in the side of goodness.” I addressed the gathering. My 7 friends nodded in agreement, unable to speak for the hot dogs shoved into their mouths.

I continued, “Furthermore, laughter is certain to bring in the reign of Beelzebub. Let us engage in a highly competitive round of SceneIt!, which will likely dissolve into mirth and wrestling.”

The minions shuddered. They could feel the gates of Heaven rattle disapprovingly. I pulled out the game, an impish smirk upon my face.

Sunday Night: I mocked the Powers That Be by attending church and cooking dinner for my sister’s family. I heard, literally, an angelic voice protest, “How can she do such things on the Sabbath?!”


Monday: Mrs. Charlie, most faithful servant in my eeeeee-vil empire, joined me for the most important day. The original plan to steal each left shoe proved difficult as people at Disneyland tend to notice someone removing their shoe. As we dolefully ambled, my index finger shot into the air, pointing to the proverbial light bulb that some people call the sun.

“True nastiness would be to seek autographs of the downtrodden, ignored workers in Disneyland and thank them for their efforts!” I proposed.


Mrs. Charlie rubbed the goose bumps on her arms. “It’s perrrrrfect. Completely unsuspected! We must start with the ride operators and kiosk staff!”

We ran about Disneyland, autograph books in hand. So completely had we unnerved the Hands of Fate that they interceded to end our reign of terror. As we chatted with Tigger’s crew, a flock of birds buzzed from the skies, barely missing Mrs. Charlie. A serious artist rendered this highly accurate drawing of the experience.

Thwarted, we withdrew from the park to plot next year’s fiendish pursuits. It may involve providing food to the impoverished, but I hesitate to go so far on only the 2nd Evil Day Weekend.

P.S. Can't help but brag, but I drew that picture and collected those autographs. That's right. Those are actual scans from Disneyland. Don't expect this kind of view into my psyche ever day, but the artistic value of the day could not be ignored and insisted to be shared with the public at large.