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Boys Will Be Boys
Jixemitri #12 CWP
This is the first comedy I ever wrote; therefore, this story will
always have a soft spot in my heart. I still giggle when I read it. Inspired
by a true story. “Flashlights?” “Check.” “Face
paint?” “Check.” “Anti-presence detection garments?” Silence. Sensing
confusion, Jim restated his question in a less technical manner. “Camouflage
clothing?” “Check.” “Compass?” “Check.” “Emergency
energy supplement bars?” Dan looked
in the gear bag and then over at his best friend. “Negative. Somebody who shall remain nameless ate them.” Mart tried
to look as innocent as possible.
Knowing it was a futile effort, he shrugged his shoulders. “I was in
dire need of nutritional sustenance,” he explained with a sheepish grin. Jim resumed
itemizing their check list. “Ski caps?” “Check.” “Universal…”
Jim was interrupted by a knock at his bedroom door. With a curt nod from their fearless leader,
the male BWGs stealthily assumed their preplanned positions. Once they were
all in place, Jim called, “Come in!” Trixie,
Honey, and Di bounded into Jim’s room to find him in a chair, playing his
harmonica. Brian lounged on the bed, scanning the most recent edition of Medical Monthly. Mart and Dan were
seated by the computer, engaged in a fierce battle of their favorite game, Ethiopian Ninja and the Pygmy Punx. “So,
what’re the most honorable members of our club up to?” Trixie asked, plopping
down on the bed atop her eldest brother’s stomach. Brian let
out a gasp of pain. He shoved his
sister off him, and then sat upright.
“Jeesh, Trix. You could give a fella internal bleeding sitting on him
like that!” He yelped again as Trixie
elbowed him in the ribs. Trixie
sniffed indignantly as she assumed ladylike position. “I’ll have you know,
Brian Belden, I’m not nearly as sturdy as I used to be.” “So,
what’re you boys up to?” Honey asked. Knowing her best friend’s build was a
sensitive subject, she decided to tactfully veer the conversation in a new
direction. “Not
much. Just sitting around,” Jim commented. Dan
looked over at the girls, a grin on his face. “I can’t speak for everyone,
but I’ve been kicking Mart’s pygmy butt.” “I
think you’re delusional, my Ethiopian ninja nemesis!” Mart argued good-naturedly. “I must insist upon a rematch! Methinks my
controller isn’t working properly.” Di
giggled. “Gee, I really hate that
we’re going to miss a round of the Pygmy Punx, but we’re heading to Crabapple
Farm for our sleepover.” “And
no boys allowed,” Honey added sternly.
“You’ve been officially excluded from our slumber party.” “And
here I had my curling iron and eye shadow all packed in my Hello Kitty
overnight bag,” Dan said, feigning disappointment. “Well,
in that case, Mr. Mangan, we can
make an exception for you,” Trixie replied tartly. “We need live bodies for
our…experiments.” She gave a sinister
laugh and rubbed her hands together in wicked delight. “Thanks
but no thanks!” Mart exclaimed. “You
squaws can keep your giggling and hair curlers and leg wax away from us,
thank you very much.” Jim raised
a ginger brow in query. “So exactly what do
you girls do at slumber parties? Aside from all the giggling that keeps
everyone else awake at night, that is.” “Oh, lots
of stuff,” Di explained, her violet eyes wide. “We give each other makeovers and try on
weird clothes. We play Truth or
Dare. And we talk about boys.” Trixie
nodded in agreement. “We eat unhealthy
portions of pizza and chocolate, and guzzle down gallons of carbonated
beverages. We listen to music and
dance in our underwear. And we talk
about boys.” “We watch
so-called chick flicks which wouldn’t interest you because they are
violence-free, have a plot, and star incredibly hot guys. And most importantly, we talk about boys,”
Honey added with a devilish grin. “So to
summarize, you talk about us,” Jim questioned, casting a furtive glance in
Trixie’s direction. Trixie
snorted. “In your dreams,
Frayne.” However, a telltale blush reddened
her cheeks. Jim Frayne was her favorite topic of conversation, but he didn’t
need to know that. “I was of
the opinion that my cherished female sibling had a yen for Ben,” Mart
needled. “Perchance it’s the jesting
Mr. Riker who consumes dear Beatrix’s reveries.” “If you
value your life, Mart Belden, you’ll never talk about my ‘yen for Ben’ ever
again!” Trixie threatened. “That was
the worst Thanksgiving of my life!” “Trixie had
a ‘yen for Ben’?” Dan hooted. “I
must’ve been out chopping wood for that one, ‘cause it’s news to me.” “That was
before you moved here, Dan. Trixie
didn’t actually have a ‘yen for Ben’,” Jim clarified. His defensive manner
caught the attention of everyone but Trixie, who was too busy looking at Jim
to really listen to him. “Trixie pretended to like Ben to help Brian
get his jalopy. It’s a long story.” “Yeah, one
we don’t need to hear again,” Trixie snapped.
“I’ve suffered enough for my generosity.” Honey
patted Trixie’s shoulder in a comforting manner. “Trixie has been forever
scarred by her Ben experience,” she retorted loyally. “But we
took care of Ben at our last slumber party,” tittered Di. “We made a Ben-voodoo doll and she
unleashed her fury on it.” Brian
snickered in amusement. “I was
wondering how that disfigured Ken doll got all those stick pins in him. Here I blamed it on Bobby.” “Well,
consider it a warning to never cross us,” Trixie admonished. “Speaking
of Bobby, have fun with the little monster tonight,” Mart taunted. Trixie
wrinkled her nose. “I thought he was
going to be at the Lynches’ with Larry and Terry.” “Ah, yes,
but that was before the youngest Belden decided to baptize Mrs. Lynch’s new
Himalayan,” Mart explained. “Mrs.
Lynch was none too pleased at the destruction Fluffy wrought trying to evade
Esquire Belden’s clutches. She
banished Bobby from the Lynch household for a fortnight.” “Oh, poor
Fluffy!” Di cried. “Mummy simply
adores her new cat. I’m sure she was
very angry!” “Gleeps!”
Trixie exclaimed. “No wonder you boys
wanted to stay at Manor House tonight.
If we would’ve known the little horrorcane
was going to be home, we would’ve stayed here instead.” “Don’t
worry, Trixie. Bobby’s always a perfect angel when we’re there,” Honey
soothed. “I’m sure he won’t bother
us.” Dan
chuckled. “If nothing else, Trixie can
play the ‘Let’s tie Bobby up and see how long it takes him to get loose’
game. He always enjoys that one.” “Yeah, I’m
sure Jim would volunteer to teach Trixie how to tie special knots,” Di
whispered to Honey. “Love
knots, that is.” Trixie
jumped up. She was quite talented at
reading lips and didn’t want her almost-twin to hear Di’s comments and
elaborate. “Well, honorable ones,
we’re off to indulge in makeup, chocolate, and Ewan McGregor.” “No, Tom
Welling,” corrected Honey. “Wrong again,”
Di giggled. “Matthew McConaughey.” All of the
boys, except for Dan who was rather enjoying his friends’ jealousy, groaned
and rolled their eyes. “You boys
all have fun practicing your Boy Scout knots, or studying just for the fun of
it, or whatever else you responsible men do,” Trixie teased. The group said their goodbyes, and the
girls were off to Crabapple Farm for their sleepover. Jim
listened for the girls’ footsteps on the stairs. When he heard their
pitter-pattering, he signaled to Mart. Mart crawled on his belly out in the
hallway to listen for the front door to slam. Once he heard the door close,
he motioned to Dan, who was waiting in the doorway for the thumbs up. As soon as he got the sign from Mart, Dan
nodded his head to Brian, who was keeping vigil by the window. “All
clear,” Brian affirmed after several minutes.
With a
chorus of sighs of relief, the boys resumed their former huddle. “Okay. I think we were on the last item of our
checklist,” Jim continued. “Universal remote?” “Check.” Jim paced
before them, holding a clipboard in his freckled hand. “Tonight we have an important mission, men.
This assignment is a covert operation, and absolute secrecy must be
maintained by all. “For the
past couple of years, the masculine members of the Bob-Whites of the Glen
have earned quite a reputation for themselves. Responsible. Honorable.
Reliable. Unselfish. Dull.
Boring. But thanks to this
evening’s carefully planned caper, that’s about to change. “Tonight
men, we undertake a vital exercise in manhood. If we stick to our schedule,
we will prove, without a doubt, that we
can be spontaneous and impulsive, just as well as the girls. Tonight, we refuse to be the responsible,
honorable ones. Tonight, we will be
the average teenaged male engaging in impetuous tomfoolery. So without
further ado, let us initiate Operation Couch Potato!” Meanwhile at
Crabapple Farm…
“Reinforcements
have arrived,” Peter Belden announced as he entered the kitchen by the back
door of the house. He set down the pizza boxes he was carrying on the
counter. A moment later, he was
greeted by a chaste kiss from his lovely wife. “Hey, you can do better than that,”
he murmured huskily in her ear. A
cough was her discreet reply. Peter
looked up to see his curly-headed youngest son sitting at the table, staring
at them with profound interest. Peter
cleared his throat. “Uh, I thought you were spending the night at Larry and
Terry’s, son.” Bobby
smiled his most angelic smile. “Boy,
Dad, that pizza sure smells good. You sure was nice to bring it home for us,”
he replied. Peter
loosened his tie and looked at Helen.
“Do I even want to know why Bobby is here instead of at the Lynches’?” Bobby tried
to sneak off, but escape was impossible.
Having three older mischievous children before Bobby, Peter was highly
trained in escape tactics. “Stop right
there, mister.” He looked Bobby square
in the eyes. “What did you do now?” Bobby,
having three older mischievous siblings, was highly trained in negotiation
tactics. He knew it was best to simply
tell the truth and throw oneself at the mercy of the court. “Well, it’s not actually my fault. It was Larry and Terry’s idea.” At his father’s stern smirk, he blurted,
“Well, maybe it was my idea. I don’t remember. But anyway, we was just sittin’ around and
talkin’ ‘bout the capsizin’ they had at the church last Sunday.” Peter’s
moustache twitched. “Do you mean the
‘baptizing’ service?” Bobby
nodded, his blond curls bobbing.
“Yeah, the capsizin’. Well, we
thought it’d be a hoot to try to capsize someone. Me an’ Larry an’ Terry have already been
capsized, and Harrison’s too big, so we hadta find someone else. We tried to bring Reddy in the house ‘cuz
he likes water, but Mrs. Lynch yelled at us real good and tolded us not bring
that dirty dog in her house. She said
a big dog like Reddy didn’t belong inside.” “I can understand that, son,” Peter said,
trying his best to keep a straight face. “Please continue.” “Well,
we
tried to tell Mrs. Lynch
that Reddy wasn’t that dirty but
she made us put him outside. She shoulda just let us bring him in the house,
‘cuz after Reddy got capsized he woulda been nice an’ clean. But we did what she said.” “Somehow
I don’t think the story ends there. Go
on.” “Well,
we hadta find a new candied ape…” “Candidate?”
Peter suggested, finding it impossible to keep the slight smile off his face
no matter how stern he tried to appear. “Yeah,
that’s it. A new can-di-date for
capsizin’. Well, Larry said that his mom might not like dogs in the house,
but that she gotted a brand new cat.” Peter
closed his eyes and wearily rubbed his temples. “Would that be Mrs. Lynch’s new purebred
Himalayan, that was the daughter of the Cat
Fancy Magazine’s best of show champion, that Mr. Lynch paid a fortune
for?” “Well,
Dad, I dunno ‘bout all that junk. All I know is that Fluffy sure didn’t
like it one bit when we putted her in Mrs. Lynch’s big garden tub. I gotted to be the preacher, an’ I stood in
there with Fluffy. She wasn’t nice at
all, an’ started clawin’ me up an’ squallin’ somethin’ terrible.” He showed Peter his arms, which were
covered with cat scratches. “I dunkded
her real good, but then she took off down the hall like a horrorcane! Harrison finally caughted her an’
blow-dried her fur all dry, even though it smelled kinda funny and stook out
somethin’ fierce. Then, he hadta clean
up all the glass…” “Glass?”
Peter raised his eyebrows. “Well,
when Fluffy tookted off, she kept runnin’ into junk an’ breakin’ it. That wasn’t my fault, honest.” Bobby batted his large, china blue eyes. If
one didn’t know better, he might actually think the boy was as angelic as he
looked. However, those acquainted with Bobby knew better. “The
‘junk’ Bobby is referring to is Mrs. Lynch’s priceless Ming vase collection,”
Helen explained. “That’s
when Mrs. Lynch threwed me outta the house.” Bobby’s bottom lip protruded in
a pout. “She said I can’t come back for a whole two weeks.” Peter
somehow managed to keep a straight face.
“Well, Bobby, that’s fair.
Later we’ll discuss your punishment.
Now go put some antibacterial cream on those scratches. I hope you learned a valuable lesson.” Bobby
sulked to the bathroom. “I sure did,”
he said forlornly as he trudged out of the kitchen. “I learned next time to capsize Fluffy in
the pool.” After
he made sure his youngest son was out of earshot, Peter burst out
laughing. “What’ll that kid think up
next?”
Suddenly the back door slammed open and Trixie, Honey, and Di bounded
in the kitchen. “Gleeps!
What’s that yummy pizza smell?” Trixie asked, sniffing the air. “That is your dinner,” Helen
answered. “Your father and I are going
out to dinner and a movie.” “Oh,
woe!” Trixie moaned. “Does that mean I’m stuck babysitting Bobby? This is the last slumber party we’ll be
able to have before school starts!” Helen
smiled and put her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “I suppose, just this once, your father and I can take him with us.” “We
can?” Peter inquired a bit hesitantly. “Oh,
Moms! You’re the greatest! I promise to dust every square inch of the
entire house tomorrow.” Trixie gave her mother a huge hug. “I don’t deserve to have a mother like
you.” She and the other girls bounded
off to her room to set down Honey’s and Di’s overnight bags. “Gee,
thanks, Helen,” Peter said sarcastically.
His wife came over to him and wrapped her arms around her his waist. “I’ll
make it up to you later, Peter dear,” she whispered in his ear. Peter waggled his eyebrows at her, dipped
her back, and kissed her passionately. Later on that night…
Trixie,
Honey, and Di spent most of the evening in Trixie’s room. Loud music vibrated the walls; soda cans
and empty pizza boxes littered the floor. Honey and Di had performed the
miraculous task of convincing Trixie to allow them to make her over. The tomboy groaned as Honey piled her sandy
curls on top of her head and Di globbed makeup onto her face.
“It’s hopeless, guys!” she wailed.
“No matter how much hairspray and mascara you use, you’ll never turn
me into a glamour girl.” Honey
whacked her friend on the shoulder with the hairbrush. “Trixie Belden! Stop
being so hard on yourself. You’re a very pretty girl. Why, you don’t need
makeup and a fancy hairdo to be glamorous. You’re perfectly perfect just the
way you are!” Trixie
snorted incredulously. “And I’ve got a
bridge in Di
nodded, her silky ebony hair bobbing.
“Honey’s right, Trixie. You’re just… just oozing with natural beauty!” “Yeah,
I’m oozing all right… Ouch!” Trixie
quickly snatched the brush away from Honey before she was whacked again. “I
was finished with it anyway,” Honey giggled.
She handed the makeup mirror to Trixie. “Ta da!
Even Dot Murray couldn’t hold a candle to you, Miss Belden!” She hurriedly placed her hand over her
mouth. She’d forgotten what a sore
spot the beauty from Iowa was to Trixie.
Trixie
sniffed indignantly. “I will thank you
kindly not to mention the blonde bimbo’s name in my presence. Liking two kinds of girls indeed! Why, I should’ve taken that bracelet and…
and… Oh, I don’t know what I’d do with it.
Darn that Jim Frayne anyway!” “Well,
I think you’re beautiful, Trixie,” Honey declared. “And
so do I!” Di exclaimed loyally. “And
so does Jim.” Honey added.
Trixie shot her honey-haired friend a warning look.
“But your outfit needs something…” Honey began digging into her
overnight bag. “Oh!
I have the perfect thing!” Di squealed as she searched the contents of her
bag, as well. Honey
found a large, fuchsia feather boa and draped it along Trixie’s shoulders,
ignoring Trixie’s horrified expression.
Di triumphantly pulled out a glittering tiara and dramatically placed
it on top of Trixie’s sandy curls. “I
pronounce you Miss Trixie
gave another loud snort. “More like
Miss Nonsense of Honey
laughed. “I think we can come up with
a better name than that for our dear Beatrix.
How about Princess Supple Bling Bling!” The
girls dissolved to the floor in a fit of uncontrollable giggles. When they could finally speak, Trixie
gasped, “Where in the world did you come up with that name?” “Well,
you
are wearing a tiara,” Di
commented, wiping a tear from her violet eyes. “And
you
are the supplest of us!”
Honey added. “Plus, you’re the only
one of us who’s in a D cup!” Honey
dodged the pillow that Trixie flung at her. “Trixie,
have you heard about the legend of Princess Supple Bling Bling?” Di inquired
as seriously as she could. Trixie
sighed. “I can’t believe I’m setting
myself up for this, but no, Di, I have not heard the legend of (here she wrinkled up her pert nose)
Princess Supple Bling Bling.” Di’s
eyes twinkled as she began her tale.
“Long, long ago in a faraway kingdom, there was a princess named
Supple Bling Bling. An awful spell was cast upon her by her spinster
aunt. Princess Supple Bling Bling was
forced to stay in the highest tower of the castle, busily sewing and knitting
every day. Only love’s first kiss
could break the fierce spell.” “Yeah,
yeah, yeah,” Trixie interrupted. “And
she kissed a frog and the spell was broken.” “Now,
Trixie,” Honey teasingly scolded.
“It’s not nice to interrupt.
Please continue, Miss Lynch.” “Thank
you, Miss Wheeler. I was just getting
to the good part. As I said, only
love’s first kiss could break the spell.
One day, the dreamy Red Woodsman was riding his noble, black steed in
the forest. He heard a cry from deep
in the woods and raced upon his stallion to the tower. He found Princess Supple Bling Bling
suspended from the tower, hanging from a scarf she had knitted herself. One by one, the purls were coming undone,
and eventually the beautiful princess would fall to her doom because of the
scarf’s poor craftsmanship. “At
the speed of light, the dreamy Red Woodsman positioned his supple form
beneath the tower to catch the princess as she fell. He easily caught the damsel and looked at
her fondly. ‘My dear, special
Princess,’ the Red—” Di was smacked by Trixie’s other pillow before she
should continue. “All
right!” Trixie interrupted. “Enough
about (once again she wrinkled her nose) Princess Supple Bling Bling and
Jim!” “Jim?”
Di repeated innocently. “Why, I was
talking about Regan. Were you hoping Jim would rescue you?”
Once again, Di and Honey collapsed in laughter. Trixie, however, was
less than amused. “I
much prefer Ewan McGregor,” Trixie sniffed, her nose upturned. “Must
be the red hair,” Honey observed. Trixie
showed her indifference by grabbing a bra off her dresser and filling it with
corn chips from the bag lying on her bed. “Eewww!”
Honey squealed. “That is so gross!” Trixie
snickered and ate a chip from her impromptu bowl. “What? It’s clean!”
“But your girls go in there, not your snack!” Di argued.
Trixie shrugged as she popped another bite of Fritos® into her mouth.
“Better than dropping crumbs all over my bed.
I’ve gotta use those D cups for something.” She finally decided that she’d had enough
of the girly stuff and hastily flung off her feather boa and tiara. Di
spied a postcard lying on Trixie’s dresser and squealed. “Oh! Is this from Hallie?” “Yeah. She and her family are on vacation in “Ooh,
I just love dolphins!” Di gushed. “Did
you know that dolphins are the only mammals besides humans that mate for
fun? All other mammals mate purely for
reproductive purposes,” Honey declared in a scholarly tone.
Trixie and Di looked at Honey in amazement. “Where
did you hear that, Miss Wheeler?” Trixie inquired archly. “Brian
told me,” Honey answered. “He was studying reproduction for one of his
college classes.” “Those
Belden boys are such bad influences,” Di snickered. “Exactly
what else has my oldest brother been teaching you, Honey?” Trixie
queried. “N-n-nothing!”
Honey stuttered, her face tinged a becoming beet red. She flushed a deeper shade of crimson as Trixie
and Di doubled over laughing. Lucky
for Honey, Helen picked that precise moment to knock on the door and enter
Trixie’s bedroom.
“My goodness!” Helen exclaimed. “It sounds like you girls are having
fun. What’re you giggling about?” “Uh,
Honey was just telling us some interesting facts that Brian told her,” Di
hedged. “Yeah,
some facts that he learned in college,” Trixie added saucily. “He’ll
have to share it with the whole family, since you girls found it so amusing,”
Helen said with a smile. “Who wants
some of my homemade fudge? Or did you get filled up on pizza?” “Fudge!!!”
all three girls screamed, nearly knocking Helen down in their haste to
retrieve the tasty chocolate. They wasted no time, immediately sampling the
goods. “Thanks,
Moms!” Trixie garbled, her mouth full of fudge. “Your fudge is the best!”
Di licked some fudge residue from her fingers. “Mmm! It sure is, Mrs.
Belden,” she agreed. “Did
you and Mr. Belden and Bobby have fun while you were out?” Honey asked politely,
daintily eating her piece of the delectable dessert. “Yes,
we had a nice time,” Helen affirmed.
“Diana, please tell your mother how sorry I am about what Bobby did to
her cat.” Di
laughed. “I’m sure she won’t be mad at
Bobby for long, Mrs. Belden. He’s just
too cute for anyone to be angry with. One flutter of his big blue eyes and
he’ll be back in Mummy’s good graces.
Besides, I’m sure Daddy wishes Bobby would’ve drowned Fluffy. He and Fluffy aren’t exactly the best of
friends since Fluffy peed in his shoes.” “Well,
I’ll call you mother tomorrow and have Bobby apologize,” Helen said. “It’s
getting late, so I’ll say good night. You girls have fun. Bobby’s already in bed, and Mr. Belden and
I are going to watch TV in our room.
You ladies can go downstairs and giggle as loudly as you want to.” “Goodnight,
Mrs. Belden,” Honey and Di chimed. “Night,
Moms!” Trixie gave her mother a kiss.
“Thanks for the yummy fudge!” “It’s
perfectly perfect!” Honey added as Helen left the room. “Gleeps!
Moms was sure in a hurry to get to her room,” Trixie remarked. “Why, it’s almost mysterious!”
“Only to you, Trix,” Di muttered. Both she and Honey laughed. A
puzzled expression crossed Trixie’s face. “What do you mean?” Honey
grinned. “Hey, I’d hurry off to bed, too, if I had such a hottie husband
waiting for me in the bedroom!” Trixie’s
horrified expression made Honey and Di giggle even more. “Yuck!” Trixie bellowed. “Major ICK
factor! My dad is not hot!” “Yes,
he is,” the other two girls chorused. “On
the hotness scale of one to ten, Mr. Belden is at least an eleven!” Honey
squealed. “More
like a fifteen!” Di exclaimed with a dreamy sigh. “Yeah,
those dreamy brown eyes and that dark, wavy hair.” Honey emitted a theatrical
sigh. “Just like…” “Just
like who?” Di prompted. “Just
like my oldest brother, perhaps?” Trixie goaded, poking Honey in the ribs
with her elbow. “Gee,
I wonder what the boys are doing now,” Honey wondered out loud. Her mind
obviously was straying to a certain tall, dark, and handsome member of their
club. “Mart’s
probably eating,” Di speculated. Her mind was apparently on a different
male Bob-White. Trixie
chortled. “Knowing Jim, the boys are
probably doing something very honorable.
I’ll bet at this very moment, they’re sharpening their pencils in
anticipation of the beginning of the fall term next month. Or maybe making a birdfeeder out of a
pinecone and peanut butter.” “You’re
probably right, Trixie,” Honey answered. “I’m sure they’re being responsible
Bob-Whites this very moment.”
“Definitely!” Di agreed. Meanwhile after dark…
“Do
you have to hum the tune to ‘Mission Impossible’?” Dan hissed, poking Mart
slightly in the ribs. “For
your information, Mr. Mangan, this melodious anthem is propagating the
ambience essential for our ambiguous mission,” Mart quite eloquently stated,
adjusting the green ski cap he wore over his newly-grown blond curls. Several months ago he’d heard through the
grapevine (technically it was through the air duct) that a certain
violet-eyed brunette favored short curls to a buzz cut. Since that night, he had forsaken his crew
cut and let his hair grow. Brian
shone a light on his green and black face. “Did I get enough of this
camouflage paint on?” he asked. Jim
curtly nodded. “I think everyone’s
well-camouflaged. Let’s hurry down to
the jalopy.” Brian
still had the old car he’d purchased from Mr. Lytell. The 1964 Ford Fairlane 500 was becoming quite an eyesore,
much to the chagrin of his family. Tom Delanoy had offered to teach Brian the
basics of automotive refinishing in a blatant attempt to get the rusting old
heap sanded and repainted, but lately Brian had been too busy. The paint
scheme currently consisted of more primer and Bondo™ than paint and metal.
The original color was indeterminable, since the remaining paint was coated
with rust. Since the jalopy was the first thing one saw when they pulled into
Crabapple Farm, Peter had been “encouraging” Brian to plunge in and refinish
it. Nonetheless, Brian loved his car, rust, primer, and all. Prepared
for battle, the four male Bob-Whites were clothed head to foot in camouflaged
gear. Military paint completely
covered their faces. They stealthily
moved through the veil of darkness to Brian’s old car, totally undetected by
the Manor House residents. As quietly
as possible, Brian hopped into the driver’s seat so he could shift the old
rattletrap into neutral. Meanwhile, the rest of the boys pushed the jalopy to
the edge of the driveway. They jumped
inside and shut the doors, while the car coasted silently down the hill. At the bottom of the hill, Brian started
her up, and they drove past the driveway to Crabapple Farm. “Hope
the girls didn’t hear us,” Dan commented.
“You know how Trixie is. If she
thinks anything mysterious is going on, we’ll have the Schoolgirl Shamuses on
our tails.” “They’ll
be too busy giggling to notice us,” Jim assured. “Yeah,”
Brian agreed. “When those girls get together, they make so much noise that
you can’t hear yourself think.” “I
worry more about Moms and Dad,” Mart said. “We’re
covered there,” Brian replied. “It’s Friday night.” A
quizzical look passed Dan’s face.
“What’s that got to do with it?” “Coincidentally,
Mart, Trixie, Bobby, and I were all conceived on a Friday night,” Brian
explained. “Ah,
yes. I forgot that our overly-amorous
forebears regularly partake of nocturnal pleasures on the sixth day of the
week,” Mart elaborated. Still
seeing the puzzled looks on Jim and Dan’s faces, Brian said bluntly, “That’s
the night they scrog.” Jim
covered his ears. “Too much
information, Brian! That’s a little
more than I wanted to know about the Belden family!” Meanwhile,
Dan hooted with laughter. “Scrog?! I’ve never heard it called that
before!” He continued to chuckle as Brian’s jalopy made its way down Brian
pulled over to a wide spot on the road hidden by trees. He parked the car, and they ran down the
road on foot. Soon they came upon Mr.
Lytell’s store and adjacent house.
They silently crept up to the house and peered in the living room
window. The grumpy old codger was sitting on the couch, still dressed primly
in his trousers and button-down shirt that he wore in the store. He was reading the evening paper and
watching “Wheel of Fortune”. The
male BWGs looked at each other and nodded.
“Let Operation Couch Potato begin,” Jim murmured quietly. He motioned to Dan who was carrying the
equipment bag. “Are
you guys sure about this?” Dan asked softly.
“If my probation officer finds out, I could get into a lot of
trouble.” “Nobody’ll
ever know it’s us,” Mart assured. “Come
on, Dan,” Jim prodded. “This is our
only chance to be wild and crazy.
Aren’t you sick of being called honorable and responsible?” Dan
thought for a moment, carefully weighing his options. “All right.
Let’s do it!” He dug inside the bag and found the item for which he
searched. Finding it, he handed it to
Brian. “Here, Mr. Responsible. You first.” Brian
hesitated momentarily, and then grabbed the object from Dan’s hand. “If we get thrown in jail for this, Jim…” Mart
silently chuckled. “Mr. Responsible is
going to chicken out!” Brian
glared at his younger brother. However, Mart’s goading was just the
enticement that Brian needed. Gathering his courage, he pointed the item in
Mr. Lytell’s window. “Here goes
nothing…” The
boys watched as Mr. Lytell jumped in surprise. The old man squinted his eyes and then
rubbed them. He curiously leaned
forward and peered at the television set before him. One moment, he’d been staring at Vanna
White turning over lit-up tiles. The
next, he was watching some bunch of hoodlums sing and dance in their
underwear on a stage. Brian
laughed so hard that he nearly dropped the universal remote in his hand. “I didn’t think it would work!” “I
told you it would!” Jim crowed. “Now
change it back!” Quickly,
Brian pushed a button, and Vanna returned, flipping over all the D’s. Mr. Lytell shook his head in
disbelief. A minute later, Brian
changed the channel back to the headbangers on MTV. For good measure, he turned up the volume
so that the windows of the house were vibrating from the noise. The boys doubled over in laughter as the
old man took off his glasses, cleaned them on his shirt, and then adjusted
them on his face. “Look
what he’s doing now!” Mart gasped. Mr.
Lytell stood and walked over to the television set, where he picked up the
remote control from the top of the TV.
He then turned down the volume, changed the channel back to Wheel of
Fortune, put the remote back on the
television set, and then walked to the couch and sat down. The boys rolled on the ground. “Do
it again!” Mart urged when he could breathe. “I
don’t know…” Brian hesitated. Mart
grabbed the universal remote out of his hands. “If he’s gonna keep his remote on top of
the TV, he deserves to get up again.”
He quickly changed the channel back to the heavy metal playing,
tattoo-covered band. Mr. Lytell began
saying something that the boys couldn’t hear.
However, they were as good as Trixie at reading lips. “I
didn’t know Mr. Lytell knew that many four letter words!” Jim whooped.
They watched the old man once
again trek to the television, get his remote, bang it against his leg, change
the channel, place the remote back
on the TV, and return to his seat.
All the while he muttered intelligible profanities. “We’d
better go,” Brian whispered. “He’s a
smart old coot, so he’ll get suspicious soon.” “He’d
just blame that harum-scarum Belden girl,” snickered Dan.
The boys sneaked back to a path along the main road. They ran until they came to a red brick
house. “Who
lives here?” Dan asked, after he’d had a moment to catch his breath. “It’s
a new family that moved to town recently,” Jim explained. “Do
we want to play a trick on them?” Brian questioned. “Mr. Lytell has been mean to Trix all these
years, so he kind of had it coming.
But we don’t even know these people.” “How
very honorable of you, my introspective sibling,” Mart teased. Dan,
however, sided with Brian. “I didn’t
mind pulling Mr. Lytell’s leg, but I’m not sure I want to harass a total
stranger.” “I
see what you mean, guys. But I saw
this family at Wimpy’s,” Jim told them.
“The husband was rude to Mike and said the food was disgusting. He made an awful mess, and then he refused
to pay for his meal. The whole time he
was real nasty to his wife and kids.
He’s already gotten a bad reputation around town. I heard he hangs out with Olyphant and his
gang.” After
deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to give the man a taste of his own medicine,
the boys decided to go ahead with their prank. They saw a large man sitting on the sofa in
his boxer shorts and an old, ratty T-shirt.
They sneaked over to the big picture window behind the couch where the
man couldn’t see them. Not only did
they have a good hiding spot, they had perfect access to the television. The
man was slumped on the couch, surrounded by discarded beer bottles and junk
food wrappers. Occasionally, the boys
heard him bark out an order to his wife, who would scurry about following his
orders. They watched a small girl go
over to the man and show him her skinned knee. The man yelled and waved his hand in an “I
don’t care” manner. The little girl
began to cry and ran away to find her mother.
Jim glared at the man and grabbed
the universal remote. “This guy
deserves all he gets,” he whispered angrily. Inside
the house, the man was watching “Beach Bunny Bombshells Fighting Bad
Guys”. He was glued to the set,
totally enthralled as a scantily clad buxom woman chased a drug dealer down a
sandy beach. He cheered Bambi on as
she chased the hardened criminal. She
caught up to him and wrestled him to the ground. The man was on the edge of his seat as the
druggie grabbed the string of Bambi’s bikini top and…
An all male Russian dance troupe
performing live at the Kremlin? The
man started yelling at the TV. As if
the four letter words didn’t adequately express his anger enough, he threw in
a few obscene gestures, as well. He
grabbed the remote from off his beer gut and smacked it good. He changed the channel back to the Beach
Bunnies. Relieved that Bambi and the
drug lord were still wrestling, he quieted down and was soon captivated by
the program. He leaned up closer as
the crook ripped Bambi’s bikini bottoms and her…
“I love you, you love me,” an annoying purple dinosaur
sang. By
this time, the boys were rolling on the ground, clutching their
stomachs. From outside, they heard the
man yell for his wife. She came in the
living room just as Jim clicked the channel to the end credits of “Beach
Bunny Bombshells Fighting Bad Guys”.
The boys watched as the man shook his head and tried to explain what
had happened. His wife just shrugged
her shoulders and left the room, dismissing her husband as a nutcase. The
man took another swig of beer, burped loudly, and then settled in to watch
the next program, “Hot Ninja Chicks”.
Candy, the stripper moonlighting as a
secret-agent-ninja-warrior-princess was turning on the shower. She tugged on her robe and… “Call
now for your very own Best of Barry Manilow CD or cassette, yours for only
$19.95 plus shipping and handling.
When you purchase this album, you’ll get some of Barry’s best, such as
this favorite:
“ ‘At the Copa… Copacabana… The hottest spot north of Havana…’ ” Barry
sang. The
man threw down his beer bottle and yelled for his wife again. She hurried in the room, just as Candy was
fully-dressed and applying too much makeup.
His wife put her hands on her hips and listened as the man frantically
gestured to the television. She shook
her head in exasperation and left again. The
man picked up his remote and rattled it.
He took the batteries out and shuffled them around. Once the AA’s were reloaded, he whacked the
remote on the floor for good measure.
AA quick test told him it was working properly. He opened a bag of pork rinds and shifted
his attention back to the Playboy channel. He cheered as Candy miraculously
fought three hot bad babes at once.
One of the women pushed her in a tub of Jell-O, which was positioned
conveniently nearby, and Candy pulled the villainess into the tub with
her. They were clawing at each other
and tearing off each other’s clothes when… “Do
you suffer from impotence? Maybe you
are one of the many men who need Viagra.
Studies have shown…” This time
the man was so flustered that he went into the kitchen and dragged his wife
back into the living room. He sat her
down on the couch where he had been, just in time to see Candy get out of the
tub of Jell-O. The three naughty
vixens were tied up with some rope that Candy had stuffed conveniently in her
bra.
At his breaking point, the man began banging his head on the
wall. His wife patted him on the
shoulder and handed him an icepack. He
plunked down in front of the TV once more, although this time a little
fearfully. For
several minutes, everything was fine.
Candy tied up her loose ends and was heading to her day job. Just as she was getting ready to perform
her pole dance at the strip club, the TV suddenly snapped off. The man finally lost it and began throwing
his empty beer bottles at the television.
At the sound of breaking glass, the boys decided it was time to
leave.
“I think we’ve done enough damage here,” Jim said, as soon as he
stopped laughing enough to speak.
“This guy’s gonna need serious therapy.”
“Maybe the therapist can help him quit being such a jerk,” Brian
commented. “We’d
better head back,” Dan whispered. The
boys began the long walk back to the jalopy. “I
wonder what the girls are doing,” Brian wondered out loud, his mind straying
to a certain honey-haired neighbor. Mart
snorted, eerily like Trixie. “They’re
probably gorging on chocolate and watching their chick flicks.” “Yeah,
starring Ewan McGregor,” Jim muttered. “And
Tom Welling,” Brian added unhappily. “Don’t
forget Matthew McConaughey,” Mart mumbled. Dan
burst out laughing. “Geez, why don’t
you guys wake up and smell the coffee!
Trixie likes some redheaded actor. Hmm… I wonder why? And Honey likes the tall,
dark, and handsome serious guy? What a coincidence! And Di goes for the blond, blue-eyed funny
guy. Whoda thunk it?”
Jim, Brian, and Mart merely looked at Dan like he’d grown a third eye,
obviously not seeing the connection.
“Boy, you guys are dense,” Dan hooted. “I’m glad I get to be the dark,
mysterious one who makes the rounds with all the Sleepyside hotties. I’m glad I’m not jealous over some Jim
did his best to assume a confused expression.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dan. I am not jealous.” “Me
either,” Brian added, unhappily. “Nor
I,” Mart mumbled. “So,
how about we sneak to Crabapple Farm and see what they’re doing?” Jim
casually suggested. “Sounds
good to me,” Brian agreed. “Me
too,” Mart piped up. Dan
shrugged his shoulders, broad from all his wood-chopping. “Yeah, whatever. I just have one question.” They stopped their movement and everyone
looked at Dan. “Jim, what’s up with
Trixie’s yen for Ben?” “Shut
up, Mangan.” Much later, outside
of Crabapple Farm…
One
by one, heads popped up to peek in the living room window at Crabapple
Farm. Brian had parked the jalopy far
enough away that Trixie would not hear its approach. They silently peered through the window and
saw the three girls huddled together on the sofa. Their eyes were swollen, and they clutched
several tissues in their hands. A box
of Kleenex® was nearby, and several wadded up tissues were on the floor. “What
are they watching?” Brian queried. “I
don’t recognize it.” “It’s
‘A Perplexing Existence’, Dan explained. “I heard Uncle Bill’s girlfriend
talking about wanting to watch it on pay-per-view the other night. Uncle Bill apparently wasn’t up for it,
though.”
“No wonder,” Jim muttered distastefully. “It
looks depressing,” Mart offered. “It’s
your typical gut-wrenching tearjerker.” Dan assumed a television announcer’s
voice. “Four friends overcome all their obstacles to achieve their
dreams. No hot babes, violence, or car
chases.” “Boring!”
chimed Jim, Brian, and Mart. Dan
grinned. “It does star your favorite actors…” “Ewan
McGregor,” Jim muttered. “Tom
Welling,” Brian added unhappily. “And
Matthew McConaughey,” Mart mumbled. “Yeah,
some other guy’s in it, too. Some bad
boy-type with really dark hair and eyes, but I forget his name.” Inside Crabapple
Farm…
“This
is such a wonderful movie!” Di exclaimed, wiping a tear from her eyes. “I just don’t understand why it didn’t win
an Oscar.” Honey
blew her nose in an extremely ladylike manner. “Their loyalty to one another is so
touching! How they helped their new
friend mend his bad ways… I just love this movie.” “I
can’t see why the guys wouldn’t want to see this!” Trixie gushed, grabbing
another Kleenex. “Ewan McGregor is so
handsome as the abused hero! His dream
of helping orphans was so noble. His
character is so…supple and sooo honorable!” “Ooh,
Tom Welling’s perfectly perfect as the responsible friend dreaming of being a
doctor to the jungle natives.” Honey dramatically sighed. “His character has such a sensitive bedside
manner!” Di
sniffed and wiped another tear. “My
favorite is Matthew McConaughey’s character!
He was just sooo smart and used all those big words.” She began fanning herself. “And those blond curls and blue eyes! To die for! He could tease me any day.”
“Yeah, I’m glad Hallie recommended it,” Honey said. Trixie
nodded. “She said it was really
good. Of course, she liked Orlando
Bloom’s character the best. She liked
his dark, sullen good looks, and thought he was an expert at chopping
firewood.” “You
know, there is something awfully
appealing about a bad boy gone good!” Honey cocked her head pensively to one
side. “For the life of me, I can’t figure out why he seems so familiar…” Back outside…
Mart
snatched the remote from the bag.
“There has to be something on better than this! Maybe Playboy is showing another episode of
‘Hot Ninja Chicks’!” Jim
grabbed Mart’s arm. “This isn’t Mr.
Lytell or some drunk guy we’re talking about.
The girls are sure to catch us!” “Yeah,
Mart,” Dan agreed. “I know we tease
them a lot, but they’re really pretty smart.
They’ll figure out that it’s us playing a prank on them.” Mart
wiggled out of Jim’s grasp. “You guys
give them too much credit! This is one
mystery that Schoolgirl Shamuses, Inc. won’t be able to solve.” He pointed the universal remote at the TV
and changed it to the latest action flick, “Dismember Me”. They heard the girls shriek as the scene
changed from Dr. Tom setting a broken bone with a makeshift splint to Steven
Segal facing down the mob with only his beautiful, much younger
sidekick. “I think we can take them!” Steven
proclaimed, readying himself in a fighting stance. The
boys chuckled as the girls shuffled through tissues in search of the
remote. Finally, Trixie triumphantly
held it up. Before she could change
the channel, Mart beat her to the punch, and “Going
for new batteries,” Brian guessed. Mart
waited until Trixie was back in the living room. When the remote was still
devoid of batteries, he hit a button and changed the channel to ESPN Six,
which was showing reruns of “Fishing with Bill”. The boys laughed as Trixie stomped up the
stairs. “She
thinks it’s Bobby!” Mart hooted. “That
little booger gets blamed for everything!”
Trixie was followed downstairs by her father, who looked very sleepy
and none too happy. While Honey and Di
were gazing at Peter Belden, who was dressed only in his low-riding pajama
bottoms, and while Trixie was explaining what had happened, Mart flipped the
channel back to “A Perplexing Existence” before his father had even looked at
the television. The
boys chuckled as Peter checked the TV and cable box. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he
grabbed the remote, complete with fresh batteries, and calmly scrolled
through the channels. The remote
worked perfectly. The boys snickered as they watched Peter lecture the girls
and finally stomp back up to his room. The
boys let the girls get settled back onto the couch. Soon the trio forgot their earlier TV
troubles and was engrossed once more in the movie. On the screen, the four characters were
busy repairing a roof. Ewan skillfully
slid down to the ground, showing off his supple physique. Jim leaned close to the window and watched
Trixie. Her china blue eyes bugged out
and her mouth opened. Jim thought he
saw a drool trail dripping down her chin.
“Change it! Change it!” he
ordered as he scrambled for the remote. Once
he’d procured the channel flipper in his hot little freckled hands, Jim
quickly clicked the remote to change the channel. However, there was nothing
on that he particularly wanted Trixie to see.
“A commercial for men’s underwear… No!.. Men’s swim competition… No!... An interview
with Viggo Mortenson… Definitely not!... “Find
something quick!” Dan yelled. Finally,
Jim settled on the Senior Bowling Tour. The boys breathed a sigh of
relief.
Back inside the farmhouse, the girls had returned to a state of
panic. Although the boys couldn’t hear
what they were saying, there was a rapid-fire conversation taking place. “I
wish we could see their lips,” Brian whispered. “I wonder what they’re saying.” Suddenly,
Trixie went over to window and peered out.
Just in the nick of time, the boys ducked out of sight. The special
force unit waited several minutes before peeking back inside. Trixie had
once again joined Honey and Di on the couch.
The channel was back on “A Perplexing Existence”. The scene showed all the male friends
swimming in a lake. Soon, it centered
on Matthew as he got out of the water.
His muscular form was spectacular as he rubbed a towel through his
blond waves, accentuating the rippling muscles of his chest. Mart fumed as Di began fanning herself
furiously. She faked a faint as
Matthew shot an impish grin at the screen. Mart
feverishly seized the remote and punched the buttons much harder than he
should have. Soon, steam poured out of
the object, and the channels on the television began rapidly changing on
their own. “Run!” Jim
yelled. Knowing their cover had been
blown, the boys ran up the hill to the Manor House. They sneaked back inside
as quietly as possible and settled into the den where they were “camping
out”. Although they braced themselves
for the inevitable confrontation, it never came. An hour later, they were
satisfied that they were safe and snuggled into their sleeping bags on the
floor. Exhausted from their
adventures, the weary guerilla soldiers fell into a deep slumber. The next morning…
Jim
was having a lovely dream involving a certain sandy-headed detective. Unfortunately, a shrill whistle woke him
before he could deliver much-anticipated kiss. He jumped up, wide awake. “Good
morning, beautiful.”
He lay back down and rubbed his eyes.
Was he still dreaming or was Trixie really in his father’s study where
the boys had slept? And why did she just call him beautiful?
Suddenly, he noticed that his face felt funny. His eyelashes felt stiff. He looked at his
hand and saw it was smeared with black gook and glittery green junk.
Screaming, he ran into the bathroom by his father’s study. “Wait till
he sees the green streaks we put in his hair,” Trixie snickered. Dan
stretched from his spot by the window. “Is it morning already?” he asked with
a yawn. He shielded the morning sun from his eyes with the back of his hand
when he noticed something funny.
“What the…!” Dan sat up and
stared at his fingernails, which were painted a lovely shade of purple. He yelled and clutched his thick, black
hair, only to pull out a collection of pastel butterfly hair clips. With a bloodcurdling scream, he ran into
the bathroom. “What’s
the racket?” Brian asked groggily. He
opened his eyes and saw the girls standing nearby, angelic smiles on their
faces. He tried to roll over but got tangled
in a fuchsia feather boa. Eyebrows
raised in surprise, he wiggled loose and jumped up. A feather was tickling his lip, and when he
scratched it, his fingernails were coated with a scarlet red substance, that
Brian knew wasn’t blood. He screamed like
a little girl and ran into the bathroom. Finally,
after all the commotion, Mart raised his sleepy head and appraised them with
bleary eyes. “Hey, what’re you squaws
doing here?” “We
thought we’d come up here and fix you a special
treat,” Trixie said sweetly. As
if on cue, Mart’s stomach rumbled.
“Good. I’m hungry. I haven’t had any nutritional sustenance for
hours.” Sensing something amiss, he looked around the room for his
compatriots. “Hey, where’re the other guys?” Di
shrugged her shoulders and batted her lovely violet eyes. “Gee, I’m not sure, Mart. Maybe you should go round them up so we can
eat.” “I
think they’re washing their hands,” Honey added, a smile twitching at the
corners of her mouth. “Don’t you think you should wash yours?” Yawning,
Mart nodded and then stumbled into the bathroom. The girls heard him scream and then burst
into giggles. Seconds later, Mart
raced back into the study, followed by the other boys.
“What did you do to me?!” Mart demanded. His face was flushed,
beautifully enhanced by the rouge he had on his cheeks. His eyes were wonderfully accented by the
electric blue mascara on his lashes. A
sparkling tiara graced his golden head, firmly secured in his curls. He was frantically trying to remove a turquoise
bra that appeared to be a D cup, and smelled faintly of corn chips. The
girls rolled on the floor laughing at the sight the “boys” made. After wiping several tears, Honey
explained, “Well, you wanted to know what we did at slumber parties.” Di
giggled. “We thought we’d give you one
of our deluxe makeovers. Don’t you
like it?”
“How could you do this to us?” Brian demanded. “You
know what Bobby’s motto is: Revenge is
sweet. Saccharine sweet,” Trixie replied tartly. “That’s what you get for ruining our
movie!” “Whatever
do you mean, dear sister?” Mart tried to look as innocent as possible, which
was quite difficult considering the bra, tiara, and makeup he wore. Trixie
whipped a brown paper bag from behind her back. “Exhibit A.
A green ski mask found at the scene of the crime, containing a dark
red hair inside.” She glared at Jim.
“Uh-oh,” he muttered. Honey
pulled out a matching bag and withdrew its contents. “Exhibit B.
Keys to a certain jalopy found outside of the Beldens’ living room
window.”
Brian patted his pocket searching for his car keys. Not finding them,
he quickly attempted to snatch the keys, but Honey jerked them out of his
reach. Di
dramatically revealed a bag behind her back as well. “Exhibit C.
A wrapper from an energy supplement bar found on the road between
Crabapple Farm and the Manor House.
DNA could prove said wrapper was licked clean by one Martin Andrew Belden.”
“I was wondering where I dropped that,” Mart mumbled. Trixie
pulled a piece of paper out of her bag.
“And finally, Exhibit D. A
phone message from one Bill Regan requesting his nephew, defendant Daniel
Mangan, return his camouflage duffel bag.” Honey
slammed her fist on her father’s desk.
“And for our final piece of evidence, I present Exhibit E.” She held up the singed universal
remote. “A remote able to change the
channel on any TV. Found outside the living room window at
Crabapple Farm. Previously, said
remote was in the possession of one James Winthrop Frayne the Second. Witnesses seeing the evidence in the hands
of Mr. Frayne include Mr. Matthew Wheeler, Mrs. Celia Delanoy, and Mrs.
Made…” “OK!”
interrupted Jim. “We confess! We ruined your movie, and you humiliated
us, so let’s call it even.” Trixie’s
laugh was so sinister that she almost scared herself. “Well, we could call it even, but you’re forgetting one detail. Last night I woke up Dad, and he was pretty
sore at us. So we proved our case to
him this morning, and he has exacted his own sentence.” “You
are hereby sentenced to two weeks of Bobby-duty,” Di proclaimed, her eyes
twinkling in amusement. Brian
shrugged his shoulders. “That’s not too bad.
We can handle that.” “Not
so fast, you criminals! There’s more,” Honey added. “As if waking up poor Mr. Belden wasn’t bad
enough, some big guy came by the house to see if anyone else was having
trouble with their cable. He was kind
of scary, so Mr. Belden told him they’d had trouble, too, but now he thought
it was fixed. After the big guy left,
Mr. Belden was really mad. He said
after you were finished with your beauty sleep, you are commanded to drive us
into town so we can rent ‘A Perplexing Existence’ since you ruined it for us
last night. And you have to watch it with us!” The
boys groaned.
“But that’s a fate worse than death!” Dan exclaimed, clutching his
black hair and pulling out more pastel butterflies.
“Yeah, doesn’t Dad know that he’s dishing out cruel and unusual
punishment, and that’s illegal?” Mart groaned. “Oh,
but there’s more,” Di announced. “Mr.
Belden went to Lytell’s to pick up a gallon of milk. When he was there, Mr. Lytell accused
Trixie of messing with his TV. Mr.
Belden assured him that Trixie was totally innocent.” She paused dramatically. “And when he came home, he said we could
give the jalopy a makeover to match your faces.” Brian’s
face paled underneath the heavily applied makeup. “What did you do to my car?” Trixie
snickered. “Don’t worry, big brother. Dad thought you needed a little—what’s
the word?— encouragement to start restoring your car. He
told us to paint it any way we wanted. He even provided the paint.” Brian
sat down and assumed the crash position. “What did you do to my car?” he
weakly repeated. “Oh,
it looks bee-you-tee-ful!” Trixie exclaimed. “We made sure to cover up all
the little dents and dings in it!” “Just
like little band-aids!” gushed Honey.
“To cover up all the itsy-bitsy boo-boos!” Di crooned. Brian
looked up in horror. “What. Did. You. Do. To. My. Car?” He repeated the words
slowly and seriously, as if he was talking to Bobby. “Congratulations,
Brian Belden!” Trixie stated in her best game show host voice. “You’re the
proud owner of a pink ’64 Ford Fairlane 500!” “You
painted my car pink!” Brian collapsed onto the floor, barely
able to breathe let alone stand upright.
Jim ran to get the smelling salts. Trixie
grinned, looking quite pleased with herself. “Yup. And not just any pink,
mind you. Only the best for my big brother. We’re talking Pepto-Bismol pink!” “With
lavender flowers!” Di added. “And
yellow happy faces!” Honey squealed with delight. “Well,
boys, we’ll meet you in the car, which you left parked by the driveway to the
farm!” Trixie blew them a kiss, and then linked arms with Honey and Di. The giggling trio frolicked away, merrily
singing the chorus of “I Feel Pretty”.
For once, even Mart Belden was
silent.
This
story was CWP # 12. Elements included
were: 1) the song Copacabana (commercial on TV), 2) a skinned knee (little
girl in story), 3) feather boa and/or tiara (both brought to slumber party),
4) Phrase “I don’t care” (motion by the big, mean guy), 5) Being left out of
an activity (boys left out of the slumber party), 6) An exotic animal mating ritual
(I hope dolphins are exotic enough!), 7) Phrase “I think we can take them”
(used in “Dismember Me”), 8) Being mauled while serving chocolate (Moms
attacked while serving her yummy fudge), 9) An item being used for something
other than what it was intended for (Trixie’s impromptu chip bowl J), 10) A legend (Di’s story), 11) A
frog and/or turtle (frog in Di’s story), 12) Princess Supple Bling Bling
(Honey’s name for Trixie), 13) A dance troupe (the Russian male dancers), 14)
Sending a postcard (the postcard from Hallie), and the carry-over item
(Several used throughout. One in particular was Jim’s harmonica from #6) A
big thank you to my wonderful editors, Kaye KL and KayRenee! Kaye, thanks for
finding all those evil space gremlins.
I missed every one of ‘em! KayRenee, thanks for all the technical
terminology on painting cars. I’m glad my Trixie friends know so much.
KayRenee, thanks also for telling me what kind of car Brian had. If you
missed the link earlier, click here to see what
Brian’s car would look like if he restored it. Suh-sweet! These
delightful characters were the creation of Julie Campbell and now belong to
RH. They don’t belong to me, so I will treat them gently and return them when
I’m not using them. Medical Monthly
is a magazine I made up. Have no idea
if it is real or not. Ethiopian
Ninja and the Pygmy Punx is an old computer game my husband made several
years ago. He still has it if you’d like to come play it. I
think Cat Fancy is an
actual magazine, but I don’t know if they host a cat show or not. BTW,
when my son was five, he really “capsized” one of our cats. He learned quite quickly that cats do not
like water. Ah, that kid provided limitless inspiration. J “Scrog”
is a term my husband’s cousin made up in college. I think we can figure out what it means. ;) “Wheel
of Fortune” is an actual game show. I
did not ask permission to use it, but they should thank me for advertising
it. No
permission granted either to use the “Mission Impossible” theme song or “I
Feel Pretty.” Vanna
White was once on “Wheel of Fortune.”
Since I haven’t watching it for years, I have no idea if she’s still
on there now. I think she is, but I’m more of a “Deal or No Deal” kind of
girl. For
the record, the channel-changing prank was based on something my husband did
in high school. Yes, it will
work. My darling husband is now in the
ministry. J “Beach
Bunny Bombshells Fighting Bad Guys” and “Hot Ninja Chicks” are my own
creations. They seemed like good male
chauvinist pig shows that the big, mean guy in the story would watch. Barry
Manilow is a singer that my mom listened to.
I have no idea if he actually has a greatest hits album or not, and if
he does, I don’t know if it actually costs $19.95 . Jell-O
is a dessert made by Kraft Brand Foods©.
There’s always room for J-E-L-L-O! Ewan
McGregor, Tom Welling, Matthew McConaughey, and Orlando Bloom are Hollywood
actors. I’ve heard them all compared
to certain BWGs. “A Perplexing
Existence” is purely my own creation. Kleenex®
is a brand of tissue. Buy them when
you have a cold. Steven
Segal is an older actor who primarily stars in action flicks. I think he had a little trouble with the
mob. However, “Dismember Me” is my own
creation. If Mr. Segal would like to
make a movie by that name, he can contact me. J “Fishing
with Bill” is a pretend talk show my husband did as a child, when he wasn’t
busy changing people’s channels. J Viggo
Mortenson is an actor best known for his role as Aragorn. *sigh* Pepto-Bismol™
is a medicine that helps nausea, heartburn, upset stomach, diarrhea, etc. And
it’s used without permission, too!
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