Fantastic Lore: "For a Few Hollers More..."

 
The bright lights, and outlandish
 sights of Tinseltown aside, folks
 of Cali-forn-ia  were about to go
 on one heck of a wild ride!
 
"Yeeeee Hhhaaa!" An exhuberant  
Nut yelled out as he pretended to  
lasso a unsuspecting jogger on
 the beach, down on south side.  
 
He was himself in fact already
 riding...high, above on one of  
a squadron of foam plates.
 
Led by Lefty, a commanding officer
of Fuller, Leader of the Foam Plates,
 given that position when they battled
'The Man' in New York's famed upstate.
 
Thanks to the fact that here  
it was a bright, and sunny day;  
yet wrought with patches of
cirrus clouds, and the very real
 possibility that not many of these
Cali natives were lucid enough to
realize it...the plates were able to  
silently zoom overhead taking in  
the sights and surveying the crowds.
 
Though the serenity was fated to
 abruptly end, when Foolie Lou
had noticed a dance contest
featuring a startlingly  familiar
member of the 'Hikie Shoe' Crew!  
 
"Aaaiieeeyyee!! Boo yaka  
Boo yaka boo!!" Does anyone
else see what I do!?" Shrieked
the nut, Foolie Lou.
 
His outburst caused the entire
squadron  to a halt in midair.
The result? A number of that  
'Crew Fantastic' began to
 errantly fling about as they
 rapidly descended  
from their safety's lair.
 
Now, the people became aware
that there were 'aliens' everywhere
as some dim witted beachbum cried
out, "The sky fell! Dude, the sky fell!"
He ran around doing figure 8s,  
but why none could hope to tell.  
 
"Ah Foolie!" Screamed a mighty  
displeased Rick, why'd you
haveta go and screw up our
 'recon mission?'  "Now when
 we reconvene with the others
 I hope Straw and String  
beat the NUTS outta you!"
"Yea uncle Lou" chimed in a
 lil nut, "Why you go and do
 what you do?"
 
Foolie yelled back, "Don't nobody
get your civvies in a bag, these
people weren't gonna stay  
unaware of our visit here  
so to me you needn't nag!"
 
Rick Wrapper, Lefty, six Foam  
Plate-Tooners, Trixie and a
 'fistful' of screws all hissed  
back at him in a chorus of boos.  
 
As the people scattered in fear
all about the beach, hopping on,  
and in,  anything within reach...
they began to make their  
hairbrained,  and hasty retreat.
 
Meanwhile the 'object' of Foolie
Lou's 'detection' slid quietly off
his clueless 'owner's feet' and  
made tracks under a lone  
bleacher seat...