Hi invisible ones,
So a certain person in my life who loves me very much suggested that my last post was a little on the dry side. Since Brett is usually right about these things (and I myself also thought it was a bit boring), I have decided to revisit the picnic scene, as I have since remembered a few excellent details that will make the story more readable.
April 5, 2009, was a normal day, except for the fact that the Giles were having a picnic--something that hadn't happened in a very, very long time (through no fault of their own, they were not good at transporting blankets and portable food to areas of open space designated as public places for recreation). Friends arrived, bearing their small children in their fancy strollers... Ugh! I think this is worse than last time! Pretentious, wordy, and--guess what--still boring. Never fear. I won't give up. Something amazing must have happened... Oh yes. Now I remember.
And then the clouds suddenly darkened and drew together into a swirling mass of fluffy evil and a tall, dark blue amoeboid appeared and said (in English with a British accent) "Give me your sandwiches!" A cowering Heidi moved quickly to the table and began hastily preparing a sandwich. "SWISS! Not provolone, you imbecile!!!!" the blue form thundered. Heidi's shaking fingers dropped the next few pieces of swiss cheese onto the grass, but she eventually managed to secure a couple of triangles in the bolillo. She reached timidly for the olives, glancing fearfully over her shoulder lest his powerful blueness should object to the addition of the succulent black fruit(?) to his sandwich. A large blob that might have been the shape's head undulated meaningfully. Interpreting the graceful jiggle as a nod, Heidi threw a handful of olives onto the sandwich and then squished it shut. She turned to deliver the sandwich to the quivery blob when (finally) her hero appeared. "Brett," it turns out, was only one of Bruce Banner's many aliases. Heidi dropped the sandwich and almost fainted (which would have been only the second and a half time in her life) as she watched her kind and quiet husband begin to turn green and explode into the form of the Incredible Hulk. "Hulk, SMAAAAAAAAAAASH," he said, making fists and banging them on the ground. Terrified parents reached for their screaming children and practically threw them into their strollers as they ran for their lives. The blue jelly monster shook with greater and greater intensity as the Hulk repeatedly slammed the defenseless earth with his fists. Gradually, semi-solid became semi-liquid, and within a minute or two, a goupy blue soup was all that remained of Heidi's very picky sandwich tyrant. Obviously she thanked the Hulk, and then she told him that if he ever said that stupid "Hulk smash" stuff in her presence again, he would cease to be her favorite super hero.
I thought it was a pretty good picnic.
So a certain person in my life who loves me very much suggested that my last post was a little on the dry side. Since Brett is usually right about these things (and I myself also thought it was a bit boring), I have decided to revisit the picnic scene, as I have since remembered a few excellent details that will make the story more readable.
April 5, 2009, was a normal day, except for the fact that the Giles were having a picnic--something that hadn't happened in a very, very long time (through no fault of their own, they were not good at transporting blankets and portable food to areas of open space designated as public places for recreation). Friends arrived, bearing their small children in their fancy strollers... Ugh! I think this is worse than last time! Pretentious, wordy, and--guess what--still boring. Never fear. I won't give up. Something amazing must have happened... Oh yes. Now I remember.
And then the clouds suddenly darkened and drew together into a swirling mass of fluffy evil and a tall, dark blue amoeboid appeared and said (in English with a British accent) "Give me your sandwiches!" A cowering Heidi moved quickly to the table and began hastily preparing a sandwich. "SWISS! Not provolone, you imbecile!!!!" the blue form thundered. Heidi's shaking fingers dropped the next few pieces of swiss cheese onto the grass, but she eventually managed to secure a couple of triangles in the bolillo. She reached timidly for the olives, glancing fearfully over her shoulder lest his powerful blueness should object to the addition of the succulent black fruit(?) to his sandwich. A large blob that might have been the shape's head undulated meaningfully. Interpreting the graceful jiggle as a nod, Heidi threw a handful of olives onto the sandwich and then squished it shut. She turned to deliver the sandwich to the quivery blob when (finally) her hero appeared. "Brett," it turns out, was only one of Bruce Banner's many aliases. Heidi dropped the sandwich and almost fainted (which would have been only the second and a half time in her life) as she watched her kind and quiet husband begin to turn green and explode into the form of the Incredible Hulk. "Hulk, SMAAAAAAAAAAASH," he said, making fists and banging them on the ground. Terrified parents reached for their screaming children and practically threw them into their strollers as they ran for their lives. The blue jelly monster shook with greater and greater intensity as the Hulk repeatedly slammed the defenseless earth with his fists. Gradually, semi-solid became semi-liquid, and within a minute or two, a goupy blue soup was all that remained of Heidi's very picky sandwich tyrant. Obviously she thanked the Hulk, and then she told him that if he ever said that stupid "Hulk smash" stuff in her presence again, he would cease to be her favorite super hero.
I thought it was a pretty good picnic.
Man! I missed all the action--did all this happen when I took Casey to the bathroom? :)
ReplyDeleteSo I want to go to YOUR parties! There are a sadly diminishing number of super hero battles at my parties ever since our complex hired a rent-a-cop...
ReplyDeleteOn a different note, is it too late to suggest a book for book club? And if not, do I tell you or Becky about it? Girl of the Limberlost by Gene Stratton-Porter, 1909
Rachel Allen