What It All Came Down To
whose first language is French- lapdance of failure
- singing the national anthem of an imaginary country
- grapes in the hothouse
- had a ventriloquist doll as a boy
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What it all came down to was whether or not Fleur was stoned enough to overlook the gaping holes in my argument. Studying her eyes, I felt the odds were in my favor. And the longer I delayed, the more the THC-laced camembert would wear off and the less chance of getting away with it.
I tugged Tessa’s elbow, raising her into view. As she sat up, I suddenly recalled that I had a ventriloquist doll as a boy, so I perched Tessa on my leg. For a second I felt like poor, doomed Mingus Mint, and I hoped that my performance wouldn’t be as wooden. Fleur stared uncomprehending, and Tessa’s eyes shot nervously in my direction. I leaned close to Tessa’s ear and said, “You’ll need to curtsey, but not right away.”
To Fleur, I said, “I bet you didn’t know I can throw my voice.” I put my hand on the back of Tessa’s head and threaded my fingers through her hair. Trying not to move my lips, I hissed, “Now you talk. I can’t really throw my voice.”
Tessa tossed me a sly look, then, working her jaw robotically and imitating my voice, she said, “There’s more bubbles in this tub than grapes in the hothouse.” Fleur giggled, confusion still ruling her eyes. Tessa got rolling, and I couldn’t stop her. She did a tight five, culminating with singing the national anthem of an imaginary country. It was holding Fleur’s attention, but was it winning her over? The whole act could turn out to be a lapdance of failure.
Tessa rose into a crouching, nude curtsey, staying low enough for me to retain my hold on her scalp. Fleur, whose first language is French, clapped and said, “Magnifique! C’est très drôle.”
“Glad you enjoyed it,” I said. “Now I suppose I should go put my doll away.”
bonus points for using them in reverse order