By the Fiftieth Time Through

• pontoon bridge over a hidden
• sculpted entirely out of butter
• stuck their noses in each other’s
• narcotic-fueled bacchanals
• I really don’t need to know about your weird sex life

Tune in next time part 708      Click Here for Earlier Installments

By the fiftieth time through that intro, I was becoming actively terrified of this pianist as her savage facial expression became ever harder to decipher. The delay in delivering my beverage hinted that the waiter had to cross a pontoon bridge over a hidden chasm somewhere deep in the bowels of the airship. Singing without it was unthinkable, so all I could do was wait.

Wait, and endure the pianist’s glare. I felt like a rabbit in front of a she-wolf, if the rabbit were sculpted entirely out of butter and the she-wolf’s eyes were heat lamps. Those opening bars of the Major-General’s Song, repeating again and again, made me dizzy. I tried to focus on memorizing the lyrics, but my thoughts were like dogs that stuck their noses in each other’s butts and went around and around in circles. My accompanist seethed at me, striking the keys ferociously, but all I could envision was accompanying her to narcotic-fueled bacchanals.

At last the waiter returned with the Mountain Dew. “Thanks,” I said. “Right now this is what I need more than anything else in the world.”

“I really don’t need to know about your weird sex life,” he replied.

bonus points for using them in order