Scott Varengo, a married father of two and inventor of the electric light bulb, has been writing since 1st Grade when they used big, fat pencils with no erasers. “What if I make a mistake?” he asked his teacher. “I will kill you, cut you into little pieces, and feed you to Comrade Gibbles,” she answered. “The guinea pig?” he gasped, eyes as wide as dodgeballs. In the corner, Comrade Gibbles sat in his cage, watching the young author hungrily. “You’re damn right,” said the teacher. “Now finish transcribing that surface-to-air missile manual.”
Some weeks later, agents of the FBI burst into the class during math time and arrested the teacher who turned out to be a Soviet spy, sent to usurp the innocent minds of American school children through a reign of rodent-based terror.
It was only a few years later, in 3rd Grade, when Varengo first felt the cruel mantle of censorship upon his work. During the performance of his drama “The Apple Tree that Got Mad and Threw It’s Apples at the Kids,” a one-act play for Popsicle-stick puppets, his teacher abruptly brought the performance to a close when the tree uttered it’s now infamous line, “Get back here, you shit-pants little Nancy-boy, and I’ll shove these apples where the sun never shines!”
Varengo reported his teacher to the Attorney General for violation of his First Amendment rights, leading to her being removed from her position and replaced by a busty blonde number named Miss Trixie.
From that point forward Varengo became known for his cutting-edge writing, as exemplified by such now-famous works as his 1976 Bicentennial essay, “For God’s Sake, Ford. Sit Down Before You Hurt Yourself!” his college entrance essay, “Don’t Expect Me To Study if There are Beer and Pot to Consume,” and his touching self-penned wedding vows, entitled “Make Me A Sammich!”
Varengo has accumulated a literal roomful of awards over the years, having early on learned that the secret to doing so is to study the writers who have previously won those awards and break into their homes to steal them. Here is a partial list of his triumphs:
- Ernest Hemingway’s Nobel Prize for Literature
- A Hugo Award for Science Fiction, formerly in the possession of Isaac Asimov
- A Newbery Medal for Children’s Literature, once proudly displayed by Madeleine L’Engle
- Two Pulitzers, John Steinbeck’s for Grapes of Wrath and a recent acquisition, Harper Lee’s for To Kill A Mockingbird, which became available during the confusion after her passing.
- A National Book Award that William Faulkner wasn’t using anymore.
- Of course, there are numerous others, some well-known, some lesser-known, and some that turned out to be absolute garbage, barely worth the risk involved in obtaining them.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, it’s notable that Varengo was the first person ever to complete an EGOT (Emmy, Grammy, Oscar and Tony awards), completely through the use of larceny. Oh, and, in the case of the Oscar assault and battery; Sally Field is way tougher than she looks.
While his writing style has been characterized as “infused with humor and tenderness in an amalgam that makes it just shy of readable,” his B&E [Breaking and Entering] skills have been praised as “nearly flawless, leaving behind not so much as a teaspoonful of DNA in most cases.”
He has been invited to readings, usually of his rights, in the leading police stations of the U.S. and abroad.
His work has been featured on several popular television programs including “Unsolved Mysteries” and “America’s Most Wanted,” and he is a frequent contributor to the “6 O’clock News.”
When discussing his vast array of honors, Varengo is typically humble and gracious to those who no longer possess the awards, calling them “A great bunch of guys and gals who might want to consider updating their security systems.”
In “Things To Laugh About” Varengo explores the human condition in all its ridiculous permutations.