I was but a toddler making his first trip to Disneyland. It should have been the happiest day of my young life. I had on my little white suit, my arrow through the head, I was part of a happy group consisting of me, my Jehova’s Witness friend Suzie Jones and her many, many siblings. Mr. and Mrs. Jones chaperoned.
I'd grown bored of making hilarious balloon sculptures to entertain the Jones family (the Freud with a corndog is still one of my finest) and so I pulled out my banjo picked a few tunes and when a crowd gathered I told a joke or two.
This pathetic teenager was slouching outside the magic shop trying to draw people in with some stale jokes and tired old coin tricks. He witnessed all the hub-bub around my stroller and, coming in to get a closer look he realized I was everything he'd been looking to become. I managed to combine the finest of vaudeville with modern sensibilities and a so unhip as to be hip anti-hipness that made the hip post-hippy crowd adore me. Above all I was innocent. That's what they loved the most, my feigned innocence combined with the seemingly accidental wit of a Wise Man.
He cornered me and Suzie while we waited for her parents and siblings who were engaged in a vain search for sugar free beverages in the magic kingdom. This adolescent with "Hi, My Name Is Steve" pinned to his chest bought us a couple of corndogs and I showed him my shtick. From happy feet to balloon art. He took notes and kept saying, "Yes, Yes, Yes!" and then kissing the corn dog lady; Big sloppy kisses of the kind the world would witness years later in Prince's Purple Rain (By the way Prince stole that script from my cousin Paul, though Paul's version was about an airline stewardess who ran for congress and it featured more folk music. Believe it or not, it's up to you. I don't care.)
That bastard Martin's career has been non-stop ever since. He’s making awful movies for big money thanks to my material and I’m selling solar powered umbrella’s at a kiosk in the mall.
Now Steve's never going to admit to our little meeting. The only witnesses were Suzie and the girl working at the corn dog stand. Steve was sleeping with the corn dog girl, (and eating at her stand for free I should mention), and promised to sleep with Suzie when she came of age if she'd keep her mouth shut about his lifting of my gags. She maybe a good witness for Jehova, but she sure didn’t come through for me. Yeah, I know it’s a cheesy joke. Why would I write a good one when that bastard will just take it from me?!
Now I want you Steve Martin fans to know that although I'm mad at Steve for stealing my material when I was but a mere boy incapable of defending myself, I do love his comedy dearly. Of course I do, since it's really mine. So you see, in that sense I too am a Steve Martin fan, though I hate his lousy, stinking guts. Steve is one of my biggest comedy influences meaning I too want to steal all my material from a toddler.
I've been quiet about this for too long. I'm ready to fight! I will show this Steve Martin for the evil corn dog eating, comedy stealing, corn dog vendor and Jehova's Witness just turned 18 threesome having scoundrel (sorry for the bad language) that he is...
Unless he agrees to "Settle" out of court for a reasonable fee.