How Could I Possibly Choose a Winner?
boring, non-inflatable-object-related reasons- whipped out her dagger
- portrait of a marriage in trouble
- very-large-scale sculptures of robots
- rise out of the mud like a lotus flower
Tune in next time part 843 Click Here for Earlier Installments
How could I possibly choose a winner? All of the children were equally, adorably, untalented. I closed my eyes, and pictured my mind as a fertile field, hoping that an idea would rise out of the mud like a lotus flower. My thoughts were so disordered that, instead, the only things to erupt from the soggy earth were very-large-scale sculptures of robots, ready for battle.
Unable to resist Fleur’s hypnotic command any longer, I mumbled into the microphone,
“In third place is Yolanda’s son — Not that one, but the other one.
In second place is Olga’s daughter — in the dress her mother bought her.
And in first, babe of Isolde — pick one from her numbers untold.”
There were gasps and cheers and boos. I could tell from one glance at Fleur that our relationship was the very portrait of a marriage in trouble. I should have chosen one of her children as the winner, but I didn’t, and now she whipped out her dagger.
“Watch where you’re waving that thing,” I cried. “We’re in a zeppelin!”
Her lips twitched in the faintest smile. “Fool! I will deal with you later. For now I will only use my dagger for the most boring, non-inflatable-object-related reasons.”
The cake replica of the zeppelin was brought onstage, and Fleur drove her blade straight into it, cutting off a large chunk to present to Isolde.
bonus points for using them in reverse order