“You look great, son,” Tim said as Steve crinkled and wrinkled and winkled.
“Umm, okay,” Steve replied. “But why, exactly, am I wearing aluminum foil?” (More)
Midday Matinee is our people watching, people doing and people being feature. Join the Woodland Creatures for an afternoon break.
Welcome back to Tuesday’s Tale, a weekly feature where we collaborate to write a story. Previous Tuesday’s Tales include Severe Chocolate Event and Zeta Reticu-squatch. We follow the basic rules of the “Yes, And” improvisational game – accept everything written so far as part of the story, and add your own paragraph (or so) where the last addition left off – except you needn’t begin your addition with “Yes, and.” I’ll start the story….
“Because I don’t trust the guys who run the yacht club,” Tim said. “They’re part of the Illuminati and they get signals from the Alien Overlords.”
“So why did they invite me to the Summer Ball?” Steve asked.
“To corrupt you, son,” Tim replied.
Rosalyn shook her head. “Your father worries about these things, dear. And we worry about him, so….”
“So you wear a tin foil bra,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “Doesn’t that get, you know, uncomfortable?”
Rosalyn attempted a serene smile. “I’m used to it.”
Tim dropped his voice. “You’re wearing the tin foil jockey shorts, right son?”
Steve winced. “Uh huh. But I don’t know why I need them under tin foil pants.”
“The Alien Overlords send signals to those parts,” Tim said. “That’s why so many kids these days are … you-know-ing.”
Steve suspected that teenagers had been you-know-ing for about as long as there had been teenagers. But he’d made that argument before, and his dad insisted that just proved the Alien Overlords had been here since ancient times.
Patty looked at her older brother and giggled. “You look silly.”
“Says the girl wearing tin foil flip flops,” Steve said.
“She wanted to paint her toenails,” Tim said. “That’s how it starts, you know.”