The Fête
“Do you want some ice cream?”
Jake looked at Quill with amazement. They’d already had fried chicken, corn on the cob, coleslaw, and strawberry shortcake. The feast had been to help the local Moose Lodge. “Who’s providing the ice cream?” Jake said with a sigh. Quill had insisted it was important to patronize every local organization. He’d even been bugging Jake to get his face painted since the money went for the summer flowers that cheerfully spilled out of planters all along the streets, including in front of Galaxy Toys.
“The Rainbow Girls.”
“Who?”
“It’s like scouting. They have good ice cream, and some of the girls are my customers.”
“Fine. You have ice cream. I’m going to find some shade and digest.”
“They might have rainbow sherbet,”
“Get Sam. He’s the one into rainbows.” Sam had regaled Jake with tales of the pride night party and rainbow butt cheeks. While Jake hadn’t wanted to say it and be accused of ganging up against a fellow brat, he secretly agreed with Dan. Rainbows on the facial cheeks were more than enough.
“He’s with Sam, judging the pet parade. The local organizers wanted a real live vicar for a judge. Someone watched too much BBC America.”
“I heard,” Jake said with a laugh. “Sam was teasing Dan unmercifully about his special talent, judging pet parades and the biscuit baking contest.”
“Hey, there’s Sam now,” Quill said and waved him over.
Sam had eschewed the appropriate attire of a proper spouse to a local religious leader and was dressed in plaid Bermudas, a pink polo shirt, and a necklace of seashells. “Do you like my new neck wear,” he said with a grin, flipping his hand under a shell to accentuate the beauty of the necklace and his long thin neck.
“Behave,” ...
... middle of paper ...
... you understand what you did wrong?”
“Yes, sir. I embarrassed Jake in public.”
“He’s not as out as we are. You need to respect that.”
“I just wanted to loosen him up a little. He can be so correct it’s painful.”
“I know.” Dan caught Sam’s hip, turned him, and swatted six times in rapid succession. “Are we square now?”
“Yes, sir,” Sam gulped. The spanks hadn’t been soft, and Dan had landed them all exactly in the same spot. That man got way too much practice, but it could have been so much worse. “We’re square.”
“Good. Sit down. I’ll get you some rainbow sherbet.”
“Dan.”
“Sam,” Dan whined back. “You’re the one keen on rainbows. I could do rainbow chard instead.”
“No, the sherbet will be great.” Sam dipped his spoon into the bowl. He expected he’d be seeing rainbow sherbet in his sleep if he knew his partner. Well, at least it wasn’t chard.
“Jackson. If a group of boys were beating up a friend of yours, maybe Jake or Zach, what would you do?”
"That's way I'm looking at the part time jobs. I can work after school and it will bring a little extra money." Jack's glare softened now.
“Because he is going to get thrown at more often, and we are afraid it will upset you.”
“Morning sweety, you must be famished. I have French toast!” I sat down and smiled, but still did not stop staring at Colton. He giggled,
“Candy? How have you dealt with the death of your dog so well?” asked George.
When a wife surprises her husband on his birthday, an ironic turn of events occurs. Katherine Brush’s “The Birthday Party” is a short story about relationships, told from the perspective of a nearby observer. Brush uses the words and actions of the married couple to assert that a relationship based on selfishness is weak.
'Why so far? It's a good thing that I packed extra food.' "Okay, and where exactly are these 'boys'?" I look around the room, seeing nothing but decorations, Bobby and I.
“So you were just trying to push me past my limits, is that correct?” Oliver questioned.
"Ha-ha!" he gleefully squealed. "You're freaking doing it!!! Look at you! It's working! It's working! Oh my crap, oh my crap, it
“I was out of vegetables and hay grass so, I put FUN in them!” Pinkie Pie says enthusiastically.
“What is it?” responded Taylor, peeking around the corner from the kitchen. She was trying to stifle her amusement at Jack’s excitement.
“Are you in charge of those nasty kids on the other side of the building?” he hollered.
“You just had to read them out loud, huh?” Roger asked sarcastically. “Mindy told me to get a restraining order, but it would probably just ...