A Night in the 1980's
Friday, February 24, 2012
Collette woke from aerial views of a Hindustani temple city planted across from an even larger palace in a valley between desert cliffs in the heart of the panhandle of Florida – a town starting with the letter “D”. And a little lucid dreaming about enormous wall spiders.
The wind blew off the gray around the lunch hour.
By two, the gray had returned, this time with flying flakes. Shortly later came sheets of ice pellets, with half-sun in the west.
Francis arrived for math advice, after he played a few rounds of Puck’s version of baseball in the kitchen. Puck had been impressed with the idea of “falling correctly” when catching the ball, and practiced doing so on the couch for part of the morning, audibly envisioning the scenario in which he would need two gloves to catch two baseballs at the same time during a game. Major League Baseball was calling his name.
Francis had stories from work that very much resembled Dwightish shenanigans as ice pellets continued to fall in shoals from the sky, only to melt on the pavement.
Joe was out at the races in the One Hundred Acre Woods, volunteering for the weekend. Magnus and Rose arrived for some 1980’s action film and home-fried donuts. Magnus brought Harps and a bag of green apples. It didn’t take long to get the commentary going as Harrison Ford lit up the screen and Rose mentioned something about bringing eyeballs to work’s “soup and panini party” instead.
“Basically,” said OLeif, “Rose is just trying everything she can to make her co-workers dislike her.”
The futuristic city of owls, ziggurats, Chinese newspapers, Mardi Gras Masquerade speak-easies and clay pipes, including Tardis lights and whooshing sound effects, induced some laughs here and there.
“iPhone,” OLeif nodded towards the screen. “At least they got that right.”
Harrison Ford offered the machine-lady with the 1940’s hair a drink…
“’I’ve got some apple juice,’” Magnus dubbed. “’And some cranberry. A little pomegranate…”
“’And pumpkin juice,’” Rose added.
As she walked out on Harrison Ford in a silent huff of tears, Rose spoke for her, “’I’m going to go to my robot home and talk to the toaster.’”
Synthesized saxophone.
Rose started coughing up an elephant.
“Wow, that was meaty,” Magnus observed.
“I’m been saving up,” Rose replied. “But wait! There’s more!”
Some time later…
“Are you asleep, Rose?”
No. Something about dry contacts…
Harrison Ford took a tiny clear drink.
“’This is the tiniest glass of water I’ve ever seen!’” said Magnus. “’That’s some powerful water!’”
“Uh oh,” Rose noted, as the 1940’s lady made herself comfortable nearby. “The shoulder pads are comin’ off.”
“Oh. Yeah. They’re playing real saxophone now,” Magnus added.
“That’s ’cause his shirt’s open,” Rose philosophized.