Tagged: brother

So Far Nobody had Noticed the Three of Us on the Sofa

  • by jenmesmerizing fiddle music
  • he moved in a kind of circle
  • graced by his peacocking presence
  • upgrade your underwear
  • But who had licked them?

Tune in next time part 681      Click Here for Earlier Installments

So far nobody had noticed the three of us on the sofa, which was surprising given the garishness of my new uniform. But my sartorial crimes paled in comparison to those of the individual who strutted in behind the children, dressed in a blue panda costume. The panda went to the record player and managed, even with his big furry paws, to turn it on. From speakers all around the petting zoo came mesmerizing fiddle music, the sort often played at haunted carnivals. The panda clapped his paws four times to the beat while he moved in a kind of circle around the lambs. I knew immediately who was inside the costume. He’d been wearing one not unlike it on a blimp not unlike this one in the not-too-distant past. Plus, I’d recognize that dancing anywhere.

“It’s Jim!” Esmerelda whispered frantically.

That was the conclusion I’d come to, too. Jim. Her husband, my brother. The way he moved showed that he expected us all to feel graced by his peacocking presence.

Esmerelda tried to climb over the back of the sofa to hide, but Cleopatra stopped her. “It’s time to upgrade your underwear to big girl panties and talk to him.”

Panda Jim was still dancing his shamanic dance with the livestock. From the tilt of his head I thought perhaps he was eavesdropping on us.

Suddenly I noticed that my fingers were wet. I was so intent on reading my brother’s body language that I didn’t notice how it happened, but they were certainly wet, and it was certainly saliva that made them so. But who had licked them? One of the Svenborgian Underduchesses? One of my children? One of the animals? Or something worse?

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“I Never Signed a Release”

  • “Is that typically what your family does?”
  • don’t worry about appearing déclassé
  • the entire point of having identical twins
  • allergic to paprika
  • the nine interlocking triangles

Tune in next time part 661      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“I never signed a release,” I said. “And I never will. You can’t put me on your sordid reality show.” I duck-walked closer to the fire to warm myself. “My family’s lawyers would eat you alive.”

“Is that typically what your family does?” Dr Ferguson asked. “Sic cannibalistic lawyers on people?”

“Yes,” I said. The more lucid I became, the more convinced I was that the “blanket” I had been draped in actually belonged to moose I rode in on. After telling myself “Don’t worry about appearing déclassé — these people have already seen everything,” I tossed it aside and moved still closer to the fire.

As my buns toasted, a devious thought occurred to me. “On second thought, I will sign that release.” Or at least Jason would. If my family proved anything, it was that the entire point of having identical twins is so they can impersonate and incriminate each other. When even our own mother couldn’t remember which of us was allergic to paprika, there was no way Jason could prove it wasn’t him on the video. “And after I sign, you’ll take me to the airport. I need to get off this island.”

One of the many production assistants suddenly milling around handed me a clipboard, and I drew the nine interlocking triangles that were Jason’s signature. I chuckled to myself and thought, “Enjoy the notoriety, brother!”

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“Jessamin’s Twin is Benjamin”

  • by jenpolitical performance art
  • puked up feathers
  • Just be glad you don’t have to wear them.
  • cold, damp, and comfortable
  • complete with all the hot-dog inspired accessories

Tune in next time part 597    Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Jessamin’s twin is Benjamin,” I said. “Where she excels at villainy, he’s obsessed with political performance art. The last piece of his that I saw had him wearing a wad of puked up feathers to represent America’s relationship with the Canary Islands. Before his performance he said to me, ‘Just be glad you don’t have to wear them. They’re cold, damp, and comfortable enough to not cause lasting damage, but just barely.’ I told him nobody was making him wear them, and he told me I was wrong. His muse demanded that he dress that way, complete with all the hot-dog inspired accessories, and the mittens.” I shook my head.

“Why are you telling me about Benjamin?” Tessa asked.

“Wherever Jessamin goes, Benjamin follows. We’ll likely run into both of them and I want you to know what to expect.”

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I Sipped My Martini

  • by jenfinger communicated a nervous quivering
  • a thrill of hatred
  • undoubtedly incredible ceremonial attire
  • kissing my ass ever since
  • I don’t know anything about weather

Tune in next time part 567    Click Here for Earlier Installments

I sipped my martini and kept my eye on the exits, exuding as much swaggering braggadocio as was humanly possible in order to sell my Jason impression. It was going really well. Only my left little finger communicated a nervous quivering to those observant enough to spot it.

Jason slipped out of the bathroom, and a thrill of hatred ran through me at the sight of his ridiculous red wig. He ducked into the elevator to go up to the honeymoon suite and check out the bathroom. Would he first don the aquatic version of Arlo’s undoubtedly incredible ceremonial attire, or just dive in naked?

I noticed that Tessa was dancing her way toward the patio door. Trusting that she would make her own escape and meet me outside, I threw back the rest of my martini and ducked through the fire door.

And ran straight into Brady, whom I’d last seen at the fountain when I’d first arrived on this pirate-infested island.

“There you are!” he said. “Kabbadan Scrim has been kissing my ass ever since you ran off with the nurse and that bear, trying to get me to tell him the secrets of my weather control machine, but you and I both know I failed meteorology. I don’t know anything about weather control!”

“Then you picked the wrong scam, Brady.” I spotted Tessa lurking impatiently near the corner. “Good luck. I really have to go.”

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“There You Are, Arlo”

  • by jenit’s not really hypnosis
  • makes choo-choo noises
  • famous for being stubborn
  • in ill-fitted clothes
  • both sucking on lollipops

Tune in next time part 563    Click Here for Earlier Installments

“There you are, Arlo,” the new arrival said, looking at Jason who was now dressed as me dressed as the Viscount. It was the best man who had earlier given the roasty toast. “That was some bachelor party last night! If you’re lucky, I won’t tell Tessa all the details. But you know what they say, it’s not really hypnosis unless someone makes choo-choo noises when he hears the magic word.” He sneered and said, “Avocado!” while pointing at Jason.

My brother is famous for being stubborn about only making train sounds when they were integral to his raps, and for a moment I thought we might be found out. But with a painful-looking eyeroll he began hooting like a steam engine in ill-fitted clothes and a ridiculous red wig.

The best man guffawed.

Jason might not get an opportunity to check out the honeymoon suite’s bathroom, but that was his problem. As long as he had this guy distracted I could make my getaway. As I ducked through the door the locomotive breathing stopped. I glanced back over my shoulder at the ersatz Viscount and his attendant and saw them both sucking on lollipops.

I shuddered. That was not something I would want to do in a bathroom.

Now all I had to do was steal the bride away from her wedding reception and find a way off this pirate-infested island.

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“Just how drunk are you?”

  • by jenthe kind of tipsy where I should want to hug everyone
  • I’ll be using your name
  • filled a room with balloons
  • suspended above that giant cocktail glass
  • “Oh, it *smells* like chocolate, too!”

Tune in next time part 561    Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Just how drunk are you?” I asked my brother.

He lisp-whispered back, “I’m not drunk. I’m the kind of tipsy where I should want to hug everyone, but have you seen these guests? No, thank you!”

“When will you take the stage?” I hoped to be able to make my getaway while he had everyone entranced.

“I won’t be,” he lispered. “Instead, I’ll be using your name, Arlo, to check into the honeymoon suite. The hotel staff filled a room with balloons for the happy couple, all of them inflated with air from the Svenborgian Alps. In the bathroom there is a bathtub shaped like a martini glass, and suspended above that giant cocktail glass is a bubblebath dispenser. It might seem a little weird, because the liquid is brown and looks like chocolate syrup. But it makes you look like you have a great tan.” He grabbed a forkful of my dubious dessert. “Oh, it smells like chocolate, too!”

I was familiar with Svenborgian fauxcocoa and its mildly hallucinogenic properties. If the woman beside me had been the real Tessa, I would have been disappointed not to partake with her. As it was, Jason was welcome to it. As long as as I had an opportunity to escape the island.

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All This Talk of Limericks

  • by jentantamount to intellectual masturbation
  • big buttery buns
  • it would be embarrassing
  • you experience rapid hair growth
  • in a tartan frock

Tune in next time part 559     Click Here for Earlier Installments

All this talk of limericks reminded me that the woman beside me was not the real Tessa, but merely a robot duplicate. The real Tessa hates limericks. She considers reciting them tantamount to intellectual masturbation. No matter how much the Tessabot looked like the woman I loved, I couldn’t forget the truth. The big buttery buns beneath this wedding costume were not the big buttery buns I pined for, and it would be embarrassing to be so caught up in surface appearances that I forgot that.

I squared my shoulders and cut the “cake.” I closed my eyes and opened my mouth so the Tessabot could feed me a bite. I shuddered. The cake tasted like some foul concoction that would make you experience rapid hair growth in places where you don’t want hair. I was able to spit it into a napkin unchewed, but my tongue was now numb. The Tessabot happily chewed and swallowed her mouthful, more evidence that she was not the woman I loved.

At that moment Jason arrived in a tartan frock, carrying a platter upon which rested a goose, also in a tartan frock.

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Jason had Completed his Soundcheck

  • by jenalso share a strange connection
  • “That would be *dangerous*,” she pointed out
  • how effective his tongue is
  • escorted her down the aisle
  • see the tracks in the dew

Tune in next time part 537      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Jason had completed his soundcheck, and was relaxing on the porch swing with a refreshing beverage. As identical twins, he and I share our DNA, and also share a strange connection. I can often taste things that Jason is tasting, and he can often smell things I am smelling. The beverage he was enjoying haunted my tongue and made me realize how thirsty I was.

“I need a drink,” I whispered to Tessa.

“That would be dangerous,” she pointed out, tugging me toward the stairs. “We have to hurry.”

Jason stared straight at me and demonstrated how effective his tongue is at broadcasting flavors. My mouth went dry and I yearned for a swig of something cold and lemony. I unlinked my arm from Henry and reached for my brother’s glass.

“Are you actually kidnapping the bride?” Jason asked.

“No,” I said. “I’m helping her escape.”

“Escape?” he lisped. “That’s a funny word for it. This morning, at the rehearsal, when I escorted her down the aisle she was all smiles. Look, you can still see the tracks in the dew.”

And like a moron, I looked where Jason was pointing.

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It Had Been So Very Long

  • by jenmagic in the mouth
  • uttering an exclamation of surprise
  • sing like an alien
  • used to be a rodeo champ
  • say 53 more hilarious things

Tune in next time part 527      Click Here for Earlier Installments

It had been so very long since I saw her. I was awestruck anew by her beauty.

“Tessa,” I breathed, and her name was like magic in the mouth.

She said my name like she was uttering an exclamation of surprise, and yanked me into the bungalow by my lapels.

“I should have known you’d show up,” she said, cupping my face in her hands and staring into my eyes. “Wherever there is karaoke, there you are, ready to sing like an alien who used to be a rodeo champion on his home planet.” She went on to say 53 more hilarious things about my passion for the art of the empty orchestra, but I was too stunned to make note of them all. Tessa — my darling Tessa, love of my life — was wearing a wedding dress. It was for her reception that the PSLM² were rehearsing, her reception at which Jason was going to rap. Henry the faux-cowboy was here to win her back. But who was she marrying on this fateful day?

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When Jason and I Were Young

  • by jenbask in the sugary afterglow
  • with bleach and everything
  • every fake-tanned, acrylic-nailed, selfie-taking woman
  • going to do “the fetish stuff”
  • near the twins, swinging

Tune in next time part 505      Click Here for Earlier Installments

When Jason and I were young, we once raided the White House pantry and ate an entire Sacher Torte that had been intended as the desert at an important State dinner. We had no time to bask in the sugary afterglow, though, because our mother discovered us and was enraged. She made us clean the entire kitchen, with bleach and everything, and then made us bake a replacement. Our skills were nothing compared to the staff bakers, but our cake was good enough to charm every fake-tanned, acrylic-nailed, selfie-taking woman at the party, so Mother was satisfied.

Furry Boots somehow knew this story. She whispered its details in my ear, thus proving she had a connection of some sort to my family. Perhaps she really was Jason’s lover. That didn’t mean I could trust her.

“Come with me,” she said, gripping me by the lapels of my climbing uniform. She explained that she was going to do “the fetish stuff” with me someplace private, which really didn’t narrow down her intentions much.

At the pace the auction was going, it wouldn’t be over anytime soon. I could afford to step away for a bit. And in private I might be able to figure out who Furry Boots was and what she was after.

We traveled through several rocky passages before entering a cavern decorated with plush yetis. A single crib held my newborn children, and near the twins, swinging a pair of nunchucks lazily, was Jason.

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