Monday, August 21, 2006

  The majority of this weekend I housesat for my sister and her hubby while they were off visiting some ritzy neighborhood known as Santana Row. I read a teeny bit, wrote the third chapter of my story, watched Titanic for the first time, and played with the dog. Oh, and soaked in their bathtub. Tis nice to be able to do that every once in awhile.

So now you know why I didn't post yesterday.

Sunday was church, then putting together our photography after all the electric and paint jobs we had to do (the electric part was done by a friend). All we have left to do is finish what we want the final design of it to look like (details wise).

So, onto the final part of the post: the second chapter of the Animaniacs story I posted here, since the linkies are not working on me.

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Story Alert! Feel free to skip this.

Chapter Two: It begins

“Waky Waky, time for breaky!” A distinctively feminine voice that was far too cheerful for early morning disrupted my sleep.

I ignored the voice and turned over, intent on getting more sleep. Wakko had been barking like a dog in his sleep…again.

“Yakko Warner, if you go back to sleep, Wakko will eat it all.”

That got my attention. I shot straight up and tripped, bowling over my sister as I went, and groaned. How humiliating.

“Oh, no wonder you fell. You were tangled in your sheets!” She giggled like crazy, making me want to slap her. Some day this was turning out to be. I opened my mouth to retort with some witty comment when she held a gloved finger to her mouth.

“Now, now, you don’t want to lose your bet so early on, do you?”

Still trapped in my sheets, I froze, and permitted my head to make contact with the floor. Mentally callling myself every name I could think of, I began the task of extricating myself. My big mouth had gotten me in trouble. Still, a bet was a bet, and I would not fail!

By the time I had both legs free from the cotton sheets, Dot was gone. I slumped on the bed and resigned myself to leftovers for breakfast. My plan to survive the day was far more demanding of my time.

The idea of staying in the tower was tempting. Alas, that wouldn’t happen. My sibs would end up dragging me out soon (more like, Dot would).

There was a mime that was seen around the studio… I had seen him often enough to copy him. Plus, I could keep a notebook and pen with me, for humor purposes of course.

Like slapping a ‘Kick Me’ sign on an unknowing victim. I couldn’t suppress the grin that arose at that thought.

I was suddenly filled with inspiration. Today I would be even more funny than usual, and that was a promise.

The tower was a mess, as usual. Toys, videos (and crumbs) littered the floor, but this was normal. It’s not like we could be bothered to actually clean. I passed the train set, the Bugs Bunny telephone, the games, and into the kitchen.

Wakko burped aloud. Dot grimaced and protested, saying “Digusting!” She was holding her nose to ward of the smell, too. This was common routine in our home.

“Morning,” Wakko said, and gulped down on a sandwich with who knows what stuffed between the bread slices. He could eat anything, including desks.

She sighed despairingly and looked towards me. I resisted the urge to say ‘hey, he’s your brother, too!” Instead reached behind my back, pulled out a sign and scribbled the following: Deal with it.

She gave me a dirty look as I coolly walked past her, dropped the sign, and proceeded to the refrigerator that we had procured by various means. No, we did not steal it. We took it off someone’s hands at a garage sale.

The inside of said machine was pitifully empty. The only things untouched from the tornado that was Wakko were a tub of vanilla flavored yogurt, half a chocolate cake, a bag of small candies, two old carrots, part of a ham, a loaf of bread, and a quart of apple juice.

Sigh…so many choices.

In the end I chose some yogurt and a plain ham sandwich that I whipped up in 2 minutes flat. Not much, I admit, but it would do until the next trip to the grocery store.

In order to reach our dining table, one must go past the sink brimming with dirty dishes. When the last of the clean dishes were used up, then we would clean them. It’s our system, see. Anyway, I came to a table that has seen better days. It did, before Wakko took a bite out of it. If you know Wakko as well as we do, you know how big a bit he can take.

Finally, I cleared a spot for my lovely breakfast and set to work feeding my stomach. Since we had no more clean spoons, I dipped the sandwich into the yogurt and began chowing down.

Vaguely I could hear Wakko on the train set, and Dot shifting position at her place at the table. I ignored them both, too lost in thought about the coming trials I would face.

That is, until the abrupt, shrill ringing of the telephone reached my ears. I nearly lost the bet that very second, nearly choking on my last bite of sandwich as I clenched my mouth shut. The anticipatory silence as Dot and Wakko were poised in their places was stifling. Then came the “I’ll get it!” and a mad scramble.

“Too bad you can’t answer!” Dot taunted before she was off to the races, her feet going a mile a minute.

“Hey look, your Mel Gibson calendar!” Wakko was pulling the usual trick we all did.

“Where?” Dot sounded panicked (and from where I was in another room entirely I could hear her huffing in annoyance a moment later).

“Hello, Wakko speaking. Uh huh. Yes. I’ll tell him. Buh bye.” A pause. “Scratchy wants to see you, Yakko!” he yelled in my general direction, then started the train set again and was off amusing himself.

I only sighed and stayed where I was. It wasn’t the doc I was worried about. There were plenty of things I could do to annoy him. It was Hello Nurse. However could I resist howling like a wolf and gazing in admiration at the female form?

This day was starting off badly.

It would be prudent to get this out of the way. Off to the p-sychiatrist I went.

End of Chapter 2

I sincerely hope that those of you who read this enjoyed it.

Ciao.
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