Mesozeugma

Mesozeugma (me’-so-zyoog’-ma): A zeugma in which one places a common verb for many subjects in the middle of a construction.

His hat was green, pulled over his eye like pirate patch. They thought it looked stupid. Many people, without fail, hurled insults and even stones, at the at the “doofy” hat. It was a cruel town, filled with hypocrites and dog handlers. It was adjacent to the dog track where characters such as those were valorized for their nonsense, for not being charitable or even remotely caring. Everybody was satisfied by that except Joey Spitzer, the boy in the weird green hat.

He was tired of going home at night with lumps on his head and a heavy heart. He came from a different place where a hat pulled down over the right eye was a sign of friendliness. He persisted in practicing his culture’s norms no matter what happened—“Soon they’ll throw rocks, then they’ll throw bricks, then anvils—big things that hurt me, and may even kill me.

“They’ll try to run me down. Trucks, bicycles, cars, rolling, motorcycles, skateboards, motor homes, every known type of wheeled conveyance over me, squishing me, bruising me, killing me.”

Clearly, Joey Spitzer was losing his mind. He started chasing squirrels with his bicycle, intending to run them down. They were too fast, so he went after box turtles, running each one over five or six times, and often seven, with “one for good measure.” But, no matter what, he wouldn’t take off the green hat.

He left the little town and went to the big city where nobody gave a damn qabout his “friggin’ hat. It was live and let live all the way, every day. Some people button their shirts all way up. Some people ate green jello and meatballs. Some people went barefoot. Some people farted a lot. Joey met some people from where he came from. They all wore green hats and fit right into the vibrant criss-crossed tapestry of Our Town. Its motto was E Pluribus Mas Den Orycheio. He was saved.