k another scary story.... but not scary for me... lol
Once upon a time (I like it when a story starts this way!), my cousin Paul was visiting us for winter vacation. He and uncle Ned were in town for a week and were busy dropping in and staying over at different relatives homes.
Currently, Paul and I have been banished to the lowest recesses, the ultimate pit, the bowels of the earth; the basement, due to our incessant giggling, yelling, and the thwarted food fight at the breakfast nook earlier today. Our teen age imaturity is waying on everyone's nerves.
Paul and I are inseperable due to our inherited nature of playing pranks on unsuspecting poor souls. We have bought just about every practical joke that is sold in the back of comic books. From the electric hand shaking buzzer, to the fake fly in the plastic ice gag, to the hot pepper chewing gum, we have financed homes, cars, and college tuitions for the children of these inventors.
Having exausted every means possible offered on the market, we plot something new that hasn't been done before. Born out of boredom, mischanneled creativity, and downright brattiness, our latest ploy has been hatched.
Victum: Aunt Lori who is a cross between Carol Brady and Martha Stewart. She bakes the best pies we have ever tasted, has a floor so clean you can serve said pies on, and is as sweet as the pies as well.
Objective: Freak her out big time!
Method: Present her with her worst fear, nemesis, and Waterloo.
Now planning something of this scale takes lots of observation, study, and investigation. One learns alot by just looking, taking notes, and asking questions, a skill I have sharpened over the years.
Paul supplies the means to achieve this. He is currently the starting pitcher on his high school baseball team. As a freshman, he has excelled in winning various trophies which has uncle Ned beaming and dreaming of major league.
Once I explain every last detail of the plan to Paul, I notice the glimmer in his eye and the malicious smile on his face, reassuring me that this will be good.
Now to keep it all secret. So much of this plan depends on the elements of good timing, surprize, and irony.
"The plan is great", he asks me, "but how do we get one?"
"Come with me." I answer. "I saw it last week, in the pharmacy, when I was buying some eye shadow."
With that we are running like a pair of unbridled wild horses up the stairs to the front door, down the block, and into Flora's Drug Store.
Going past the makeup, greeting cards, and stomache remedies, we reach the pet department. Reaching on the shelf, I pick up a cat toy. This is not just any old catnip, feathery do dab, or bouncing ball. It is a lifesized small mouse. It is so real looking that one has to take a second look, due to its carefully placed red beedy eyes, glued on rabbit fur, and squiglely thin leather tail.
Even Paul is fooled when he first sees it. He laughs, because he was just about to warn me about the mouse sitting on the shelf. He asks to hold it, looks at it intensely, and agrees, that this will work!!!
With our treasure now in a brown paper bag we rush back to the basement like two crazed mad scientist heading down to the secret laboratory.
I tell Paul to wait a few minuets while I get the supplies we need. I don't think he hears me as I head into the storage closet to get the fishing wire from dad's tackle box, since he is soooo taken with our new toy "Roger". I also grab mom's sewing box and come back into our lab and close the door.
Choosing the largest needle eye, I thread it with a 9 feet long piece of fishing wire that Paul has cut for me. Then we move on to the surgical part of our scheme. On the underside of what is Roger's chin, a stitch is placed attaching the fishing wire.
Now for the moment of life. I place Roger on the table, and gently pull the fishing wire. Since the wire is transparent, Roger slides across with the grace of a prima ballerina.
He's alive!!!! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA (evil laugh)
"What do you think?" I ask.
"It looks real, but I dont know. Something is missing." Paul answers.
I agree, because Roger is just too adorable looking, not scary at all.
Paul picks up Roger, rubs his fur on the bottom of his shoe to disheveled it. Roger's make over makes him look fierce. Between the dirt on him and the ruffled fur he resembles the offspring of the dreaded subway rats that are infamous in the city. Like other make overs on tv, this one makes Roger's eyes stand out more, revealing more of the red in his stare.
Paul the muscle in this plan, now practices throwing Roger across the floor and reeling him back in like a yo-yo. After almost taking out my left eye on one of these pitches, I tell him to aim a bit lower and use the curve ball instead.
Just as warm up in the bull pen is about over, Dad calls down to us and tells us to get ready to go over to Aunt Lori's.
Aunt Lori's home is immaculate, beautiful, and looks like a palace. How the people at Better Home's and Gardens haven't stumbled upon this treasure has always been a mystery to me.
She lavishes us all with a 7 course feast that is the norm in her culinary repetroire. Fresh baked bread, salad, soup, appetizer, main course, side dish, and dessert.
Stuffed out of their minds Uncle Ned and Dad retire to the living room to smoke their cigars. Paul and I unable to move as well, now sit at the kitchen table and watch Aunt Lori load the dinner dishes into the dishwasher.
Thru this all she is so nice to us, asking us about school, friends, and sweet hearts.
Paul almost blows it when he whispers to me if its time yet?
With Aunt Lori's back to us I frantically shake my head side to side while mouthing, "NO". There have been similar exchanges all night and after numerous kicks from me under the table, Paul either has shins of steal or a high threshhold for pain.
"It hasn't happened yet. Wait a bit," I whisper.
Getting a pail from under the kitchen sink, a white towel, and some toothpics, Aunt Lori fills the pail with water and MR CLEAN. She then proceeds to kneel on the floor with it, and carefully begins to scrub the kitchen floor.
When I first saw this behavior as a child years ago, I instinctively asked her why not use a mop as mommy did.
She explained that this way she could get very close to the floor and see if she missed any spots and get into the cracks in the tile and edge by the floor board with a toothpick.
The cleaning ritual has begun, so its just a matter of time.
Paul is amazed since he has never seen this. When I had told him about this earlier in the day, he thought I was exagerating. I give him a smug ,"I TOLD YOU SO!" look.
With the floor drying, Aunt Lori exits the kitchen with pail, towel, and toothpics in hand, goes down to the carport to wash it out, leaving us warned not to walk on the wet floor and fall.
Now our giggling ensues again. This will be sweet, sweet as pie.
Returning to the kitchen with the pail and towel that looks brand new and wreaking of bleach, Aunt Lori, inspects the now dried floor and replaces her equiptment back to the cabinet.
I wink at Paul giving him the signal "Play Ball!"
Paul asks Aunt Lori for another piece of pie.
She heads off towards the side by side refrigerator and Roger is now sailing thru the air and lands 6 inches from her big toe. With Aunt Lori in the frigde now she also asks us if we would like some milk with the pie.
"Yes, please," I answer, "and by the way, how cute, I didnt know you had a pet hamster."
"What?" Aunt Lori asks, "You know I dont have pets, they will wreck the house."
"Well, then what is that?" I continue as I point to "the something" by her foot.
With that Aunt Lori looks at the floor and discovers Roger's threatening gaze.
As she shreiks, Roger scampers across the floor, fur blowing in the air, tail whipping back and forth, and seeks refuge under the table.
As Uncle Ned and Daddy rush into the kitchen, Roger sprints back into the safety of Paul's pocket, and Aunt Lori leaps unto a chair.
Perched on the chair Aunt Lori is hysterical about "the rat montser" that just dirtied her clean floor.
The men look around the kitchen inspecting and inquiring about where it went.
For the first time all day, Paul and I are silent.
Aunt Lori looses it further, when she realizes that Roger ran towards us and she fears he may now attack us poor, innocent, dear children.
Paul and I tell her we are ok, because we also have our feet on the chairs too, so that "the killer mouse wont get us."
That starts a discussion about all the urban myths about mice and rats in the city.
Uncle Ned recounts the story about a rat who drank a bottle of coca-cola by dipping its tail repeatly in the bottle and licking it off.
Daddy adds the story about how some man who lived in a housing project woke up to find the bottom of his feet chewed off by a hungry rat. Turns out it was a cold winter night and the place had no heating being in a poor part of town, so the man didnt feel the gnawing.
Aunt Lori begins to cry out of fustration of working so hard to keep a spotless house. She mentions she has never even had a roach or an ant walk on her counter. How could a rat ever invade her home?
Noticing the gag has gone too far, Paul and I confess. We introduce Roger to everyone after Paul takes him out of his refuge in his pocket.
Dad and Uncle Ned have every intention of punishing us severely for our stunt, but Aunt Lori, who always spoils us, begs them not to. She composes herself, and serves us the pie and milk as she teases us saying, "Oh, you played a trick on Auntie Lori I see."
All seems to end well, except for two things.
Til this day Paul and I will never leave an open bottle of coca cola laying around and we wont go to sleep without a good pair of sock on, be it winter or not.
