Mooks was outlandish: a chaos generator, an unnatural fluke who delighted in crazy stunts like the time he set the stock market spinning like a top. Mooks had no respect for authority. He hated government and politics; despised corporations and big business. Mooks could not oblige anything that was “ordinary.” A team of government scientists was organized to destroy Mooks. Any means necessary was authorized to get rid of the nuisance. Mooks was reckless: he bounced into the lab and “mooned” the scientists who immediately started throwing hissy-fits. Mooks pranced around like Shirley Temple. It was a splendid imitation. The men in white coats were not amused. They ran after Mooks with a butterfly net – Mr. Mooks fled the coop. No one asked the most important question, “what exactly was Mooks?” How could the Official Eggheads destroy what they did not understand? Oh, they tried: they set traps, triggered roadside bombs, unleashed search-and-destroy robots, released poison gases, and destroyed cities. Mr. Mooks couldn’t be stopped, but most of the world was put on life-support from the resulting damage caused by the ruling authorities. Mooks went underground where he couldn’t be found. He became a fancy hip-hop dancer as well as an artist who created incendiary paintings from smoke-and-mirrors. He was a street artist and drag performer. It was great fun being so many different characters, but the clock was ticking and it was time for Mooks to get his act together. He returned with stealth, sneaking in under the radar, disguised as a factory worker. No one suspected. The factory was under pressure to create wing-nuts for the newly commissioned military. War was good business. It kept everyone busy and obedient. Fear fueled the machine. Profits fueled the corporations. Mr. Mooks was a spanner in the works. He started singing patriotic songs with twisted lyrics, incendiary lyrics. The workers sang along. Mooks acted like a clown and his antics were infectious. People began to imitate Mr. Mooks — it was pure joy. Workers left the factories and became free spirits, artists, and truth tellers. No one was left to make wing-nuts. Death was no longer profitable. The government scientists in charge of mass-destruction gave up war games in favor of computer games. Mr Mooks spread like a virus – and everyone was part of the contagion.