Donald the Striped Pants Explorer

Today was Donalds' best day of the year. 

As he had told everyone that he saw. Sticking his chest out like a pigeon, head swollen with pride, he had told everyone who asked, and even many who didn't that he was twelve years old today.  Do you believe it, twelve!

Hair kept nice and neat but long enough to blow - didnt want to catch the boogers from school his mum insisted - he wore the first of his gifts for the rest of the day.  A lovely set of pajamas sent from his Aunt who lived in Zanyville.  Donald knew as well as anyone did the crazy things that were made there, and wondered what strange and funny things his striped pajamas could do. 

Mentally he went over his collection of seemingly boring gifts;  his striped pajamas, grey and white.  A flourescent purple vuvuzela and a colouring book.  Yes, they had seemed ever so dull and normal. 

His morning was spent giving a boy in his colouring book some lovely colours for his striped pants.  The boy did, now that he thought about it, did look an awful lot like him.  What Donald had noticed eventually was that as he slowly coloured in, his striped pants, the striped pants he wore, not the ones on the picture, weren't so boringly striped anymore.  They were taking on the colour of his drawing, a crazy colourful drawing, so now he had crazy patterned pants.  Wow, did he love those now!

Going outside, squinting his eyes a little in the midday sun, he put the vuvuzela to his lips and gave a great big blow.  Nothing happened. Oh well!  He turned to go back in the house, but noticed something in the corner of his eye.  A cloud had just appeared from nowhere, just above the house!  And another.. then another.  They kept coming and coming.  Oh, and what a wind was whipping up, whirling around, whistling through the pages of his book.  What a thunderstorm was building, and his Donald Trump's hair whipped about. 

Just at the end of the sky, as far as his eyes could see, a little dot was moving towards him now.  It got bigger and bigger till it wasn't a dot anymore.  He really focused his eyes, and then couldn't believe them!  A pirate ship, flag and all, pirates running around the deck doing things he knew not!  It flew towards him on the winds that his magic vuvuzela had made and landed on his garden.  Mum would be infuriated he knew. 

Down came the gangplank, and down that same gangplank came a Captain.  You could tell he was a Captain, thought Donald, as he had a parrot on his shoulder, and a great big hat. 

Shaking a little as the Captain stood over him, Donald remembered his manners as his mum had taught him and asked the pirate Captain, "Would you like a cup of tea?"
The terrifying looking man just smiled and said "We have travelled many miles upon the four winds of the world, robbing and plundering.  Nay, we want no tea... but have ye any mustard?" 

Donald thought for a moment, and came to the conclusion that no, they most certainly hadn't any mustard.  Horrid stuff that he hated.  He told the Captain so. 

"Aaarr!" growled the grizzly Captain, "tis' a shame indeed.  Well, we be goin to raid the cloud keepers for their multi-coloured rain if ye be wantin' to come Birthday Boy."

It was indeed a fine offer, but Donald Trump realised something and answered straight away. 
"No thank you Mr. Captain, Sir, but I am awfully hungry, and all this creating you with my imagination has left me sleepy.  I think i will eat some Birthday cake and then get to bed, if I may."

And with that, everything went back to normal.  No storm, no pirates, no crazy coloured pants.  He devoured his cake, locked his new gifts away in his cupboard, and tucked up in bed, ready to play another day.