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 |   A little bit of everything, colored my own way. |
| THE PROMPT: "OUTCOME of No.1 & No. 2." Welcome to the third segment of our lovely little suburan story. Let's see where this thing's gonna go, shall we? Ed's tone changed at the sight of The Festoons. "Hey guys! Come on in...we're just finishing up here with these folks. These are The Flopportunists...they moved in to your old place." Arch smiled and stuck out a big ol' paw of friendship in Paolo's direction, and again Paolo remained statuesque. "Alright bro, whatever." he said and turned to Ed, where they exchanged the customary bro-hug consisting of the usual handshake/one-armed hug combo. Itsa just kinda looked at Fortuna, brushed past her and gave Grace a hug. "Lee-sen, " Paolo stated more than anything, "affer zee Block Klub mee-eeting, ve vould liike to eatsa dinner at our hauss." He pointed over to their place as if to imply The Dirtbombs needed directions. Ed was a little miffed. "Hey, look pal, I know where ya live. And that's fine. But we're gonna be out of town." He began to make a little small talk with Arch and Itsa. Grace was, as always, a little more humble. "Thank you for the invitation, really, but we can't make it at this time. We really need a little time away, and some time to catch up with The Festoons." Sensing a little need for drama, Fortuna stepped back, took a deep breath, and wore a look on her face that read like any type of movement was foriegn to her. She mocked a gasp and spurted, "Vhat? Vay-cay-tion? But you cannot go on vay-cay-tion for Block Club mee-eeting!" She began to look nervous, at least for her looks, because her expressions rarely showed anything more. "Vee vill be there! Do you not vant to make vriends?" Ed had had enough. "Yeah, well, it was nice to meet you guys, but we gotta go. We've been planning this trip for a little while now, and we gotta tie up the final arrangements for the kids. Sitters and stuff. So why don't you guys go and we'll see what happens." Ed seemed satisfied that he had fulfilled his intentions on getting The Flopportunists off of his property for the night, at least. Grace, on the other hand, was a little more diplomatic, if only just to delay what might have been slightly inevitable. "We'll catch up when we come back. It was a pleasure to meet you both!" Paolo couldn't resist sticking a needle into the conversation. "Vee'll see," he sneered, pulled Fortuna around and stomped his way across the street. He stopped, turned his head, and said, "Vee'll be yaw vriends vhen you have zee time to be awahs." Fortuna just cackled like a cat with a speech impediment. Arch and Itsa kinda giggled. Itsa pondered rhetorically, "What was that all about, and what's wrong with them?" Ed chuckled as the four made their way into the house. Grace grabbed a few beers for the boys and two wineglasses; one for her and one for Itsa. "So, we'll get you when we drop the kids off, leave our car at your house, and take a taxi to the airport?" Itsa smiled with delight. "Sounds like a plan!" she chimed. "Now, who's ready for a ferocious game of Parcheesi?" The guys high-fived, and the night returned to normalcy. Meanwhile, across the street, The Floppositionists were plotting. Paint the house or take the bus to work? Make a baby or buy a pool? Cut the hair or get bigger heels? One decision always had to be balanced against something completely defying logic. But who was to argue with them, as that's where they found success in the past. "Don'nnt you vurry, babe-ee," said Paolo, stoically attempting to ease Fortuna's decision-making. "Vee vill be lie-eekd by zem. Vait to the Block Club mee-eeting. Vee vill be seen as vamous as vee are." Fortuna smiled. That was her physical expression of love, and even that was always tied into some underlying sense of something evil approaching. MUSICAL BREAK!! Soundtracking this little serial is slightly challenging...maybe a little more so than rattling off little segments for this story from the top of my head. But this tends to fit, so I'll roll with it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GmsNdztgmSg VITAL STATS:  This is the most wonderful time of the year for me as a hockey fan...the NHL Trade Deadline is tomorrow at 3pm, and I'm as excited as a kid on Christmas Eve with the anticipation that the Sabres' general manager will do something to improve the team. It's been a disappointing year...fans had high expectations going into the season, given the change in ownership and the flurry of acquisitions in the off-season (something we all were kinda not familiar with as a fanbase). I'm fortunate enough to have today and tomorrow off, so I can spend the next 24 hours or so waiting to see what will or won't go down, who goes where, what happens, and disecting the analysis afterwards. Then I'm screwed the rest of the week, as the Sabres open up a west coast roadie where most of the games won't start until 10pm on the east coast. That said, with two days off, I've been saddled with chores. One is to strip the bedsheets. Which is all well and good, but Jess is the one who usually makes the bed. What happens if I strip the bed and I want to sleep before she gets home from work tonight, which might not be until 11pm or later? The pundits will tell me to sheet the bed myself...but you don't know the perfectionism this woman puts into certain things. And if I make the bed and it's not up to her standards, and once I'm asleep I don't wake up until morning, I don't know what that could lead to. Ohhh, the conundrum.That's all for today, but hold on...since the story is supposed to end tomorrow, I might just tie it up a little later. The purpose? To give me more time tomorrow to do the rest of my chores and soak up NHL coverage. Unlikely? Yeah, probably, but ya never know. Otherwise, I'll see ya tomorrow with the unbloggly conclusion to the serial story. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=endscreen&NR=1&v=_QZslmBnbIo |
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