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Friday Evening High Temperature By: Evan on 10/22/2001; 1:31 PM If anybody can suggest a better title I would appreciate it. I often have trouble coming up with good titles for my stories (either that or I'm too perfectionistic about them). In the shadows of the night, there walks a tall, polyester clad-figure. He is six feet tall unless his blond afro is considered in the measurement. He would then be nine feet tall. He walks into the local disco, and everyone in the room passes out. He thinks that its because they are in awe of his amazing disco abilities and Afro. Actually however, they all faint because he has never been within five feet of a bathroom. He relieves himself in the bushes, and believes that his urine is good fertilizer. As for bathing, he simply doesn't bother. All he does is occasionally spray Lysol® over his entire body, to get rid of all those nasty parasites, (especially head lice). He also does have some additional anti-lice treatments but those don't help his smell. Shortly after he enters, "Stayin Alive" by the Beegees begins to play on the disco's sound system. Luckily for the DJ, he is in an air tight booth and so therefore can not be overwhelmed by the nauseous fumes. At any rate, the man (His name is Pat by the way.) begins what he considers good dancing but anyone other than a neurologist would think he's barking mad. Any passing neurologist who happens to be wearing a gas mask would think that Pat was having an epileptic seizure. Meanwhile, away from Pat's horrific convulsions, a nameless young woman wanders the streets aimlessly. She is very beautiful, with her long slender legs, hourglass figure, and perfectly symmetrical face. Two major drawbacks prevent her from being perpetually followed by suitors. One, she smells really awful as she has never bathed. Two, She can not talk other then repeating what is said to her. These tragic problems resulted from her being raised by a family of parrots who had escaped from the zoo and made a nest in the city park. She had been abandoned by her original family because they forgot where they put her. Eventually the parrots found her and brought her into their tree. She grew up strong and beautiful in the tree, a diet of worms is apparently very good for one's body. She never really learned how to speak English and her attempts to fly may have caused too much brain damage for it to happen in any event. She did learn mimicry however, and could repeat any noise that she heard flawlessly. Eventually she left the tree, because every branch that she sat on broke, and she did not want to cause suffering to her family. She really has no name because she can not remember the name her parents originally gave her. Her adoptive parrot parents simply called her Rawksquawkwehootweet, which means "big featherless one with no beak". Now she simply wanders the streets, getting food out of dumpsters. Meanwhile, Pat is still gyrating, much to the amusement of the disc jockey. He is extremely full of himself and considers himself the Duke of Disco (the King is John Travolta). Having not really talked to many other people as most pass out around him, he talks to himself quite frequently and with bad pronunciation. "I'm good. I'm swave and deboner," he says as a squirrel jumps out of its nest in his hair to go find some nuts and antidepressants. "I'm so good that the English language doesn't have a word that describes how fabulously wonderful I am. Maybe I could make up a word. Ive got it, fantaboulousoterrificawonderfulgreatgoodo. That's what I am. It's a lonely existence though. I can't find love until I find someone else who is fantaboulousoterrificawonderfulgreatgoodo. Actually, Pat's conceptions of love are largely based off of "Saturday Night Fever". In fact he had patterned his entire life after the movie "Saturday Night Fever" except for the bad bits during which his momma made him close his eyes. His idea of love is to have somebody with whom to dance. The only woman he had ever danced with was his extremely overindulgent momma who did not attempt to correct his idiosyncratic excretory and hygienic habits.At any rate, he begins his walk home occasionally striking a pose by flaring his arms outward. Those who are able to see him but not smell him, debate whether or not to call the police or the men in white coats. They also wonder if someone has spiked their dinner with LSD. As Pat walks along the street, he encounters Rawksquawkwehootweet. He is astonished because she is the first woman he has met other than his mom. Also he is the first woman he has seen who is completely naked. She does not pass out around him because she did not bathe much with the parrots, since she can not fit in the local birdbath. Therefore she smells nearly as bad as Pat. "Uhh, umm, why are you naked?" Asks Pat. "Naked, weehoo?" Repeats Rawksquawkwehootweet. "Uhh, yes, as far as I know, based on my daily trips to the disco, and my viewing of Saturday Night Fever', normally people do not walk around the streets with no clothes on." "No clothes on." "Are you an idiot?" "You an idiot weehoo?" Actually she feels rather intrigued with Pat. She felt a good number of biological drives that she had never felt before. However, she had never learned to speak in the normal human fashion. She can not express her feelings. "You are a mad person! Crazy people shouldn't be on the streets!" He says hypocritically as he walks off away from her. Rawksquawkwehootweet, unable to resist the desire within her pursues him. He runs into the first door that he comes to, which happens to be a men's public restroom, and locks the door. He relaxes a bit, looks into the mirror and sees his reflection for the first time in his life. He stares at his reflection. He realizes that he has finally found someone as fantaboulousoterrificawonderfulgreatgoodo as he is without realizing that the person is his reflection. He stands and stares into the mirror for the rest of his life. He doesn't do this just because he's in rapture of his reflection, but also because he is stuck to the floor by about twenty pounds of chewing gum. Rawksquawkwehootweet, however, feels unhappy since she does not know how to cope with the feelings of love she has that now are completely gone. She resumes her wandering but disappears after eating out of a dumpster adjacent to a Jack In the Box fast food restaurant.
RE: Friday Evening High Temperature By: Dorothy Marie on 4/8/2001; 2:11 PM great story! you really should compile these into a book!
RE: Friday Evening High Temperature By: Evan on 4/8/2001; 5:46 PM I actually already have for most of them. I have to turn in a 30 page portfolio each semester for creative writing. Everything either has already been in the portfolio or will be in my next portfolio after some revisions.
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