My mother in law is turning 90 and we're headed downtown this weekend to have a little party. They like to keep things moving and out of the blue I was handed a writing assignment. Silly but it really does serve a purpose and keep things light. I hope anyway - that's a rough crowd.
This morning I finally looked at it and banged this out in maybe 5 minutes. Bear in mind that with my MIL I can't think up a joke too filthy, say anything too outrageous, she loves it.
Write the Story: A Strange Request at a Piano Bar
Include the following in your story:
carnival sprained oxidation awkward mask
apple juvenile controversy twirl sassafras
I knew I wasn’t going to make it home in time so I stopped into a local Piano Bar to make a quick pit stop. The bartender eyeballed me as soon as I walked in so I ordered a hard apple cider and annoyingly had to show him my license – I’m no juvenile. I ducked into the back to do what I had to.
The smell hit me first. A weird mixture of cotton candy, whiskey and sassafras. What a funk. Smelled like somebody just f****d a clown in there. I looked around the dingy bathroom and saw just the usual brown oxidation, the stains, graffiti and what not – and then I noticed them. Big bright red shoes sticking out from under the stall door. God, maybe somebody actually did nail a clown in there.....
I knew it was awkward but first I took care of my own urgent needs. He’d still be dead two minutes from then. Standing there I got a good look a Pimples the Clown as he lay in repose in the nearby stall. His leg was twisted, probably badly sprained at least. His face was a red and white and blue mask. I recognized him from the posters; the carnival had been in town and it was a source of some controversy.
Before I could turn to leave the room began to fill. Clowns. Big ones, little ones, Christ there must have been thirty of them in there before I could squeeze out. Apparently Pimples had big joss, he must’ve been important to them. As I sit here at the bar twirling his bright red rubber nose I think about their strange request. They want me to carry on the tradition, said that Pimples had chosen me in this way and soon I would see the light and want to hit the road with them.
I just had to pee real bad and picked the wrong place to do it. Should’ve just done it on the street – they won’t even give you a ticket for that anymore. I tossed the nose. Clowns are f****g creepy anyway.