“Ale Getty,” Tom said as he reached for the ringing phone.
Sandy arched a brow. “Umm, okay.”
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 Ancient Order of Misanthropes and Gobsmacked, Inc. 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….
Tom lifted the phone to his ear. “Aye? Aye. Aye. Ale be rah oar.”
Penny tapped Sandy on the shoulder. “Did you get that?”
“I understood ‘Aye,'” Sandy said. “Unless he was talking about eyes, like eyeballs, or the letter I. As for the rest….”
Tom hung up the phone. “Aim goan toboggan fur a hearse.”
“Uhh–” Sandy began.
“–that made no sense at all,” Penny concluded.
“Sheer a date,” Tom said. He pointed at the phone. “Ay winna renna hearse, so ay rang de earner. Ejess rang muhback. Aim goan seem, toboggan.”
Penny drew invisible lines and arrows in the air and finally shook her head. “Nope. Nothing.”
“Me either,” Sandy agreed.
Tom sighed, reached for a notepad, and wrote: I want to rent a horse, so I rang the owner. He just rang me back. I’m going to see him, to bargain. I told him I’ll be right over. “Es spleen ass dah.”
He wrote again: As plain as day.
“Were you drinking last night?” Penny asked.
“Own a wee dram,” Tom replied. “But ware een Scotland. Aim spaken licka local.”
“Correction,” Penny said. “You’re speaking like a drunken American trying to sound like a local.”
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