Joe Don Mitchell was born in Atlanta, Georgia in 1973. He had the most gorgeous parents a boy could even begin to imagine. When he was growing up he thought that everyone’s parents looked like his. This changed when he started high school and the popular boys in school started to make jokes about how much they wanted to have more than friendly relations with his mother,and some even made comments about how much they would love to do the same with his father, if it was socially acceptable, of course. That slightly made Joe Don uncomfortable because, well, it’s sorta just weird.
His mother’s name is Julia Ann Mailfraud and is one of the kindest people you would ever meet. Julia won Miss Georgia eight times when she was seventeen years old. She continued to win pageants consistently and constantly (you have to check out this girl’s room, it’s a bit ridiculous, seriously.). When she finally retired from the whole glory and fame of it all, in 1985 at the age of thirty. She had won every competition she entered and even some of the ones she didn’t. I didn’t count the trophies, ribbons, plaques and so on, but I was told there was roughly 131,000 of them altogether.
Anyway, because of her retirement, the whole world was shocked, and in her honor a day of remembrance to how amazing she was at what she did was dedicated to her. It was a thirty eight foot solid gold statue made in her image. In her pose she is forever frozen with the biggest, toothiest, gaping grin on her face.
Her retirement was because she felt she needed to follow her true calling: brain surgery. She stormed through undergrad school and medical school in a year and a half. She began to perform all varieties of surgeries, brain and otherwise. Seemingly out of nowhere she had so many willing clients that it would be unbearable for any other surgeon in the world. However, Julia held it together swimmingly. Oh, and she loved to swim. She has swam the English Channel on six different occasions just for fun. However, the demands for her by the clients wishing to see her forced her to build her own clinic or center.
Joe Don Mitchell sort of has a dad. His dad’s name is Jimmy Munger Mitchell. Jimmy Mitchell was born in Toledo, Ohio in 1945. To put it as kindly as I as can: from Narrator to You: He did not have an easy life. Jimmy Munger was born without a brain. The Obstetrician, Dr. Obtuse, the man with the responsibility of delivering him had this to say about Jimmy “this boy is the most beautiful thing that anyone on the planet could ever dream of seeing. And I delivered it! Ms. Mitchell, it’s a boy and he is beyond perfection in his health.”
Following the litany of standard tests the hospital run on all new born babies, it was discovered that he had: the heart, lungs, liver, eyes, spleen, guts, kidneys, ears, genitalia, and pinky toe of a champion tennis player. One of the nurses looked at him and said “Give him 18 years, he’ll win Wimbledon.” However, he had NO brain. His skull was a cavernous space full of nerves, but without a mushy ball of bloody sponginess of nerves and other gushy things that form the thing humans call ‘brains.’ For his entire life Mitchell has been trying to make up for the fact that he has no brain. His lack of brains have not been a factor in his rise to the top. However, it sure does make him crabby and defensive on matters of intellectual debates and discussion.
So, I know, readers that you must be pretty sure that you’ve figured out that somewhere in the universe, some mystic power: call it fate, destiny, luck, chance, God, Jesus, Yoda, ‘your higher power’ and so on, made Julia and Jimmy bump into each other.
NOW… Stop distracting me guys and gals! I have a story to tell.
Jimmy Munger Mitchell, after years of feeling insecure and inadequate decided wholeheartedly that he was going to do something about, “this damn silly thing of not having any brains.”
He had heard of an amazing doctor in Atlanta, Georgia. Her name or whatever people called her was, Julia Ann Mailfraud. Julia, I mean, excuse me, Dr. Mailfraud has her own Neurology center filled with 200,000 drones that buzzed this way and that way all according to Julia’s wishes. Whoosh– wash, they buzzed throughout the different examining rooms and hallways. All the while examining and doing other nursely, doctorly and technicianal jobbie doos: drawing blood, giving blood, giving blood pressure tests and reading their results, checking heart rates, calculating cholesterol ratios, cleaning up the poop that the patients couldn’t do for themselves laying in bed, sick and or dying, and finally in sad few circumstances, recording the time and placing the sheet over a person’s eyes for the last time.
