|Just Laugh magazine ~ Your Source for Humor on the Internet ~|
Jane stopped abruptly as the crew prepared to cram themselves back into the diminutive Hyundai. "Wait Julia, we canít go straight to the Palm Fronds."
"Iíll give you one itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny reason." Jane frowned, eyes resting Juliaís brief polka dotted excuse for day wear.
"For your information, this is Berrrrrrmuuuuda, my attire is entirely appropriate. At least I donít look like a refugee from a high school pep rally," Julia hissed, raining spittle on Jane and her outfit, which was complete with the requisite Old Navy logo emblazoned across her chest and purchased entirely from the aforementioned oracle of blatant consumerism. "You donít have to get snippy - what do I have to force you to go clothes shopping?"
With that, Julia plopped herself in the front seat next to Willie Nelson. "Come on, Willie Nelson, I just canít wait to get back on the..." her words trailed off as she turned to glance at the Wilster who was NOT sitting in the driverís seat.
"Willie Nelson?" Julia looked around the car and spotted him hands over his ears, curled up fetally on the floorboard. The same few sentences repeatedly convulsed from his lips, "Itís just two young girls. Weíll pay you well. Itíll be worth it, I promise."
"Jane, get out! I need your help here."
Jane slid across the back seat and exited. Gingerly, she pulled opened the driver side door and mimicking Juliaís current actions, pried his hand away from his head. "Ok so now what?"
"Jane, youíre the one with the psychotic family members," said Julia, mind drifting to the Family Feud incident, "you take it from here."
"Willie, hon - I know you have issues, but Julia and I need to get to the Palm Fronds. There now, youíre ok. Here you go. Up in your seat. Thatís right." Jane patted his shoulder and she eased herself back to the rear seat.
Willie jerked and resumed clicking his knife. As he reached for his Joan Jett solo CD, Release Party, Julia grabbed his hand.
"Oh, one more thing," Julia said as she, in an awkward-but-motherly fashion, attempted to tousle his dreadlocks. "Could we stop by a clothing store on the way to the Fronds? If Mr. Bonaroo is a hot one, I want to look good when Janie tells him the meaning of life."
With that, Willie Nelson grunted a favorable but reluctant grunt and headed back to the city.
"STOP! Oh look. Itís a Victoriaís Secret factory store! I didnít know they made the Miracle Bra in Bermuda. That miracle mystique must be some sort of Bermudan juju. Who knew?!" Julia exclaimed.
"Way cool! I was just sitting here dreaming of a new bra. This one hasnít stopped itching me since we left Planet Hollywood," Jane gleefully intoned, forgetting about the sacred parchment resting in her brassiere.
Willie whipped into the nearest parking spot, actually smashed into the nearest curb would be more precise, causing the patrons at the nearby newsstand to dive for cover.
Once inside Victoria's, Jane and Julia commenced to "cute-ing" and "no, youíre not fatting" while two lythe black clad womanettes escorted Willie Nelson to the nearest bench. After about 45 minutes, an impossibly thin girl named Heather was assigned to care for Willie Nelson. She immediately noticed his impatience and offered him (as all good stores who have men waiting for women to try on clothing should) the menís special -- three cups of coffee and a valium. Heather then engaged on a drawn out dissertation, describing the snow cone stand her boyfriend ran. "Apparently the cost of snow cone syrup is going through the roof and Buddy, thatís my boyfriendís name, is beside himself. You see, weíre trying to raise money to fund zomBay, an internet start-up being run by us and some of the other Bermudan locals. Someday weíre going to be rich and..."
Three hours and 127,000 switchblade clicks later, Julia in a classy yet unpretentious red sundress gathered the now VERY complacent Willie Nelson and headed for the car.
At long last, Jane giggled at her slinky black dress, deciding she looked not unlike Audrey Hepburn. Gathering the price tags Julia had left her, as well as her own, Jane bounced to the front counter to pay. Nothing feels quite so good as brand-new itch-free foundational garments.
As still another very thin girl rang up her order, Julia suddenly recalled, "Oh, I forgot something!" and scurried back to the changing room. In her haste, she knocked into what she initially thought were an Amazon-esque woman and the ghostly apparition of Hamlet's father. Once at the changing room, she found the belt she was after and between there and the check stand she pondered the couple she had just seen. "No, Amazon-esque canít be right, with all that running and jumping through the jungles, I doubt they had weight issues. And that guy, he couldnít have been a ghost, with that eye patch he must have been on the way to tryout for the Pirates of Penzance or something." The end of these deep thoughts coincided with our heroines return to cashier. In a flash, Jane paid and was out the door.
|©Copyright 1999 - 2004 Just Laugh Productions, Inc., All rights reserved.|