First thing I’ve written since my hands started their mutiny

Listening to: “Swing Doors” – Allan Gray

I had this idea when I was drying my hair, and it made me laugh, so wrote it down. Then I kind of kept going. I think it goes together with an idea that I had the night I decided to give my hands and wrists a rest. (to that end, I also took last night off work and have been spending much less time even near a computer)

The premise is based on something funny I heard about comedy shows being a bit insane. It also made me think of Aquabats concerts. The idea of a comedian or two-man team of same confiscating someone’s shoes and then kicking them out is hilarious on its own, but I love the possible connection to Cinderella.

This may be no relation at all, of course. But I like the dialogue.

“The first time you have sex, there will be farts and giggles.”


“What? You’re getting married next week. You ought to know these things.”

“I’d rather not learn them from you, thanks.” Tamaris gripped a lock of fine blonde hair in her fist and leaned her head against the window. “You only wear skirts, you’re not like Barbara Ann.”

Her brother wrinkled his nose in a grimace, but kept his eyes on the road. “What makes Barbara Ann better at this kind of advice than me?”

“Not better,” she said, hoping to placate him, “just less weird.”

“Barbara Ann is not less weird than me,” he said, punctuating the declaration with a snort. “I’ve got a set of falsies for certain dresses. She wants a permanent chest-mounted shelf.”

“She is a she, after all. You didn’t say anything when Georgia got her breasts.”

“You never said Georgia’s advice on sex was more welcome than mine.”

They drove past a scattered herd of cows. It was the perfect pastoral image of a California Cheese commercial.

Tamaris drummed her fingers on the armrest, watching Rick out of the corner of her eye. He was fake-sulking, which always looked more realistic when he chose to wear make-up.

Just in case it was genuine, she allowed herself a grudging smile and said, “You don’t have to give me advice anyway. I’m just glad you don’t hate him.”

“That’s all I’ll say for him.”

The smile vanished. “Yorick Tybalt Evans.”

“Don’t scold. I’ve always been one hundred per cent honest with you, and I don’t aim to change it now.”


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