Panther Eats the Stars!

Malibu is very bio-diverse community, a typical pool-party party includes four or five different species who don't always play nicely together, and midway through the evening you may find yourself bleeding from the ears in an unlicensed animal hospital on the outskirts of Rancho Cucamonga.

So here I am in a big grassy field with my new best friend Mr. Cobra and his job is slithering through the tall weeds and biting me on the neck, while my job is getting bitten by a cobra and being a very good sport about it!

Mr. Cobra appeared in more than sixty Hollywood productions before he became the famous party animal that we all know and love today, so he doesn't just slither invisibly through the grass, he rattles his tail on every dry stalk, hissing all the while like a deranged reptilian tea-pot!

"So bite me already," I scream! "I'm ready to die!"

But instead I endure hour after hour of this hissing slithering refugee from the Naked Jungle or the Naked City or some other equally hideous film-noir!

Hiss hiss and hiss!

Mr. Bullfrog and his beautiful wife join in from the nearby swamps of Malibu, and now we're singing...

Hiss! Boom!

At last Mr. Panther appears with a life-like replica of Shirley Temple in his jaws, blood and bits of Shirley Temple hit the walls, and one by one all the faraway stars disappear in the soft Pacific twilight.