A fine example of pushing bullshit to its limits in lieu of actually reporting on anything. I never quite delineated Molly's role in the following creation myth. Hopefully it went without saying, that she would take the job of the Moon in this primordial cosmos.
Before the tide of time swelled, before the sun and moon were boiled from the sea, there was only water and darkness. There came to be a stick floating upon the water, and the stick grew into a great tree that lashed out with roots reaching to the bottom of the sea, pulling up mud to make places to stand. In every place to stand, there sprouted a tiny Burt Reynolds, and soon there were countless miniature Burt Reynoldses standing around in the dark crying like a bunch of babies. The big tree mentioned earlier got sick of the crying Burts and tried to find something to feed them. But since there was only mud and water, the Burts starved, cried, and died in massive numbers, creating a rich soil capable of sustaining crops, which still could not grow because of the total darkness.
Luckily, about this time, the roots of the tree poked into a buried egg that broke open to release a ball of fire that rose up and burned the shit out of the One Tree as it became the Sun. All the remaining Burts laughed, because they were jerks, but they were good with their hands. They made a dugout canoe from the scorched tree trunk. Soon they were all going around in this big canoe, from island to island, harvesting the crops that now flourished in the fertile sun and Burt-dirt. Lucky for them, the dominant crop was a primitive form of organic corndog, exactly what they liked to eat. But the sun was always up, so all the Burts got bad sunburns and cried again like wussies.
Finally, an ethereal, New-Age-type voice came from above, saying, “Shut up, you guys” and “Why don’t you kill yourselves?” But they didn’t listen. Some grew bigger than others. Bigger ones ate littler ones until there was one solid 12-mile-tall sunburned crying Burt Reynolds eating handfuls of minuscule corndogs. The New-Age-type voice took earthly form and turned out to be Molly Kugel with a gun. Molly shot Big Burt and made his body into the mountains, and his blood became rivers. She said in her New-Age voice, leave some of those corndogs for me.” She also said, “I wish I would have given Chad Woody some bio information before he wrote this hogwash.” She used the word hogwash because she once lived with the Amish.
I also understand she can “do your colors,” whatever the hell that is, so any of my students here for extra credit, if you can get Molly to do your colors, write them down and you don’t have to write the half-page review.
Folks, it’s Molly!