The Elephant Salesman (Part V)
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By hudsonmoon
- 490 reads
Terence McMichael O’Day was having a dream. In the dream he was traveling down the Amazon in a hot air balloon, in search of his father.
He didn’t realize his mother was along for the ride until he heard her say, “Dear, don’t lean so far over the basket. You’ll fall out and hurt yourself. Then I’d have to jump out after you. And I’m not the swimmer I used to be. So save your dear mother a lifetime of grief and step back a bit. Besides, lunch is almost ready and I’m starving.”
That his mother had brought along the kitchen table and chairs had amazed him. But there they were, in the middle of the basket. What was more amazing was the barbecue grill smoking away in the corner.
“How would you like your burger, Terence?”
“Dead on arrival, please,” said Terence.
“How does Bartle like it?”
“Bartle!” said Terence. “You brought the dog?”
“Of course,” said his mother. “Once we land in the jungle, we’ll need a good hunting dog to help track down your father. And Bartle’s one of the best. Now, here, eat your burger.”
“Ketchup?” said Terence.
“In the fridge,dear,” said his mother.
“You brought the refrigerator!”
“Of course, dear,” she said. “How else are we going to keep our food fresh? What a silly question."
What was even sillier, thought Terence, was not noticing all this before. Taking a closer look he noticed so much more.
“Uncle Phil?”
Phil, his mother’s brother, was seated in the wing chair reading the Times and smoking his favorite bong.
“Phil!” said Veronica. “What did I tell you about smoking in the balloon?”
“Sorry, sis,” said uncle Phil. “But sometimes you need a good smoke. It makes the newspaper a little more palatable.”
Bartle, who was asleep under the table, got a whiff of the burgers and came out from behind the tablecloth..
“Bartle!” said Terence. “Come here, boy!"
Bartle, being a Springer Spaniel, did what a Springer Spaniel did best -- he sprang. Right out of the basket.
“Bartle, no!” said Terence.
“It’s all right, dear,” said his mother. “He’s harnessed. See?”
Sure enough, as Terence peered over the side of the basket, there was Bartle, swinging like a maniacal pendulum.
“Just pull him in, dear,” said his mother. “Your lunch is getting cold.”
Terence woke up in the backyard hammock and watched as the hot air balloons passed overhead on their way to the county fair.
Terence ran into the house in search of his mother.
“Mom?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Can we go to the county fair?”
“Of course, Terence,” said his mother. “We’ll get your uncle Phil to drive us.”
Upon hearing his name, Uncle Phil put down his paper and bong.
“Someone mention my name,” he said.
“On second thought, dear” said his mother. “We’ll just take the bus.”
When the family left the house, to go to the fair, little did they know that it would be for the last time.
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Comments
Funny, very funny, original
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