I was in the Same Airborne Dinner Theater as Petit Julien
made with real human bones- everyone acted like you’d pooped on the floor
- assortment of exotic jerkies
- while grunting like a zombie
- (and in denial)
Tune in next time part 809 Click Here for Earlier Installments
I was in the same airborne dinner theater as Petit Julien, the most dangerous mime in the world, (and in denial). All I wanted was to have a few peaceful hours alone with Tessa, the woman I loved, but our lives were too complicated for even that simple pleasure. Tessa had commandeered the theater’s sound system and was blasting Deuce Pamplemousse’s disco anthem Hop on My Caboose in what I hoped was an effort at distracting the deranged mime. Her attempt was moderately successful. While grunting like a zombie, swaying his hips, and occasionally thrusting one finger to the sky, Julien was still lurching toward me. Hearing a mime of such high calibre making any noise at all was as unexpected as finding an assortment of exotic jerkies in a vegetarian buffet. Mimes are mercilessly shamed into silence early in their schooling. If you so much as sneezed, everyone acted like you’d pooped on the floor.
The audience seemed baffled, and the actors on stage opted to wing it and pretend this was part of the show. I wished them luck as Tessa exited the control booth and the two of us ducked out the back door. I didn’t know what would happen when the song ended, but I did know that Julien had a secret recipe for his white face paint. It was made with real human bones ground into a powder and mixed with petroleum jelly. Contrarian thespians are made of stern stuff, but I wasn’t sure they were up for this particular adversary.
bonus points for using them in reverse order