HUNTSVILLE, TX—Tenison Scribner and his children’s musical group, The Flaming Grabadoras, landed the gig eighteen months ago, their first since getting run out of Waco’s Cameron Park Zoo two months earlier after an incident involving a zebra, thirteen bags of cotton candy, and a latex Spider-Man costume.

And even though it only pays in free soft drinks and all-you-can-eat popcorn, Scribner, a self-described master recorder player, is happy to be performing in front of anybody these days, even if it’s only once a week, in the visiting room of The Texas Department of Corrections’ Walls Unit, and for forlorn children whose fathers are serving lengthy prison sentences.

Few have heard of Scribner, but he hopes that—along with his bank account—will change very soon. He’s confident his “500 gajillion” dollar lawsuit against The Wiggles, the wildly popular children’s musical group, will settle a score the American has had with the four-member Australian band since he was ousted as—in his words—“the fifth Wiggle” nineteen years ago.

“I was one of the originals,” says Scribner while sucking on a hand-rolled cigarette after capping off a set with a thirteen minute recorder solo. “In fact, I was the third Wiggle; forget the fifth nonsense. I wore orange. The idea to go with black pants was my idea.

“They owe me a ton of money, probably more than I’m asking for,” continued Scribner. “I sucked on a lot of Peyote lollipops in those days, so I probably created some other stuff I’m not even aware of. I wouldn’t be surprised if I wrote some of their hits, maybe drove their tour bus or somethin’.”

Greg Page, The Wiggles’ mediocre guitar player and lead singer, first met Scribner on a beach in Sydney, the hirsute American wildly waiving his recorder in the air and claiming it was “the devil’s wand.” And while Page admits the band let Scribner hang out with them from time to time, they insists he was more of a novelty, an American beachcomber they could egg on and talk into doing things like light his shoelaces on fire, chug Tabasco and snort lines of sea salt.

According to Anthony Field, the founding father of The Wiggles and the group’s least talented musician, “We let Tennie play his recorder at some of our first shows, that’s true. But his chest-length beard and wild eyes scared everybody. When you play in this type of group, you’re not supposed to be nightmare material. It’s bad for business, tough to impress the hotter moms.”

Field rolls his eyes and continues: “And when Tennie’d go into one of those ten-minute recorder solos, or growl at the kids when they’d clap their hands and stomp their feet, we knew he wasn’t Wiggle material. Unfortunately,” mutters Field, his head down, “I am.”—Citizen Dick Arneson reporting