Kirk was once again having a heated argument with his tug boat. There are days when his temperamental tug boat works better than others. Sometimes, his tug boat rides as though her captain is Captain Kirk Smith, Esq., Ph.D., MA, MAM (Master Archduke Mechanic). Other times, his tug boat treats him like he is Kirkeye the Sailor Man who hadn’t had his spinach yet. Today was one of the latter.
Harriet was singing the theme song to Popeye the Sailor Man in French to soothe Kirk and the tug boat’s nerves. The sewers were not pleased when people or objects argued.
Vixie occasionally barked at the tug boat as she sat on the dock.
Joebear and I had recently purchased a giant black sailboat with the help of my stepfather, Charles Furlong, Esquire. We named her ‘Francesca’ after my mother. We were sailing along the River Shytz and saw Kirk once again cursing and Harriet singing.
“Bonjour, Harriet et Kirk!” Joebear shouted happily.
“Bonjour!” Harriet shouted with a smile.
“BONJOUR!” Kirkeye the Sailor Man shouted.
“How are you?” Joebear shouted.
Vixie barked rapidly.
“I’m good, but Vixie feels as though you forgot about her,” Harriet said.
Vixie barked in affirmation.
“YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT VIXIE,” Kirk said.
“Bonjour, Vixie!” Joebear shouted.
Vixie then jumped up, wagged her tail, and barked.
Harriet laughed with joy. “What are you up to?”
“Searching for vanilla ice cream. Joebear and I are in search for some serious ice cream,” I said.
“Yeah! We got this craving out of nowhere. I used to be an ice cream connoisseur, but the sewer has killed my appetite lately,” Joebear said.
“Oh I know! On the surface, Kirk and I would look for the most unique restaurants in town,” Harriet said.
“YOU SHOULD TRAVEL TO LAKE MICHIGAN CUSTARD AND FROZEN YOGURT! BEST VANILLA ICE CREAM YOU’LL EVER EAT!” Kirk said as he jumped off the tug boat.
‘That’s a little far,’ I thought.
“Well, By Golly, I think that’s a great idea! Do you know the address?” Joebear asked.
“WHY YES I DO!” Kirk said as his green eyes glistened.
Vixie ran up to Kirk and started pawing at his legs.
“VIXIE! I’M TRYING TO TELL THEM AN ADDRESS!” Kirk shouted to her.
“Do you have a Global Positioning System to help you navigate these turbulent waters?” Harriet asked.
“Of course! Francesca is top of the line!” Joebear answered.
“GREAT! TYPE THIS ADDRESS IN. 1800 LAKE MICHIGAN HIGHWAY, SUITE 333,” Kirk said.
“Grand Rapids, Michigan, 49505?” Joebear asked.
“THAT’S ANOTHER LOCATION. THE ONE HARRIET AND I WENT TO WAS IN DETROIT,” Kirk answered.
“We’ll do Grand Rapids. I HATE Detroit,” Joebear said.
“Grand Rapid’s location was just as good when we were there,” Harriet said.
“Sounds great! Thank you so much,” I said. I was anxious to try their ice cream.
“You’re welcome. Bon voyage!” Harriet shouted.
“Bon voyage!” I awkwardly shouted back.
Kirk broke into hysterics. “She makes me laugh.”
Joebear rolled his eyes and scoffed at me. “We’ll see you later,” he said to Kirk, Harriet, and Vixie. He then started to drive the boat. He then directed his attention back to me. “’Bon Voyage’ means ‘Safe Travels.’”
“I knew that,” I said.
“Well, why did you wish them safe travels when you know that they aren’t going anywhere for a while?” Joebear asked.
“It was an awkward faux pau. You should be used to it by now,” I said.
“Yes. It’s part of your endearing charm,” Joebear said as he stared straight ahead.
“I hope Harriet understands,” I said.
“She does. She has more experience with people than you can imagine,” he said.
“So she understands social awkwardness?” I asked.
“Baby, I don’t think you understand the West. We don’t HAVE the stupid social nuances that limit the Eastern United States. We moved out here to get away from the restrictive rules of quote unquote proper social etiquette. Your problem is that we are very literal. We say what we mean. I know you’re literal, but you’re not literal enough,” Joebear said.
My brain stopped working. He was right. I am literally a fish out of water. Well, we’re in a desert sewer, so I guess the ‘fish out of water’ analogy works in this case. Harriet must be trying to deal with my perpetual social mishaps as nicely as possible.
Whether I like it (or not, and I DON’T), I have been conditioned to be very aware of how I appear to others. I was actually raised in Savannah, GA by parents who, as nice as they are, are extremely Type-A personality-wise and overly self-conscious. I’m so nervous that my nervousness is nervous. (Harriet mentioned something about being raised in a similar situation, so she must understand to a point.)
I need some ice cream.
Lake Michigan’s Custard and Frozen Yogurt
Joebear and I arrived at the custard shop Kirk and Harriet recommended and were in desperate need of ice cream. We approached the counter to see none other than the famous Count Vanilla Manilla.
“What can I get you? What can I get you? What can I get you? What can I get you? What can I get you? What can I get you? What can I get you? What can I get you? What can I get you?” Count Vanilla Manilla asked. Count Vanilla Manilla’s skin was ghostly white, and he had gray hair, gray bushy eyebrows just because, small brown eyes behind blue square-framed glasses, and a black cape around his neck. He wore an outfit similar to what Colonel Sanders wore at KFC. Count Vanilla Manilla used to be called Colonel Mac, but it’s a long story of why his name was changed. The cliff notes version is that he was transformed into a vampire by another important vampire in an Albertson’s grocery store in August 2020. It’s a rabbit hole of stories as to how THAT came about. I really need some ice cream.
“A large triple fudge sundae with extra vanilla,” Joebear answered.
“I’ll take a banana split with Blue Bell Vanilla Ice Cream and extra sprinkles, extra colorful, medium-sized,” I said.
Count Vanilla Manilla looked at us for nine seconds before he nodded. “Is that all? Is that all? Is that all? Is that all? Is that all? Is that-?”
Joebear growled and yelled, “NO! I want a 4X chocolate mousse cake with extra room for brownies!”
Count Vanilla Manilla recorded the order in the machine and repeated the order to us nine times.
“Yes. We want a large triple fudge sundae with extra vanilla, a medium banana split with Blue Bell Vanilla Ice Cream; extra sprinkles with extra colors, and a 4X chocolate mousse cake with extra room for brownies,” Joebear said.
“That would be $25.52. That would be $25.52. That would be $25.52. That would be $25.52. That would be $25.52. That would be $25.52. That would be $25.52. That would be $25.52. That would be $25.52,” Count Vanilla Manilla said.
“Can we have a discount? Can we have a discount? Can we have a discoun-?” I started to ask.
“Yeah! I’m not paying $229.68 for three item menus,” Joebear said as he cut me off quickly.
Count Vanilla Manilla chuckled nine times. “You only have to pay $25.52. You only have to pay-,” he started.
“HERE’S $40! KEEP THE CHANGE!” Joebear shouted as he handed Count Vanilla Manilla two 20-dollar bills.
“Thank you,” Count Vanilla said as he put the money in his cash register. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you-.”
“You’re welcome! Have a nice day!” Joebear said quickly as he was shaking from frustration.
“Have a nice day! Have a nice day! Have a nice day! Have a nice-,” I started to say.
“OH MY GOSH! WILL EVERYONE STOP REPEATING THEMSELVES?!” Joebear shouted.
Other customers started singing, “Have a nice day! Have a nice day!”
“Your ice cream is ready! Your ice cream is ready! Your ice cream is ready! Your ice cream is ready-!“ Count Vanilla Manilla shouted in excitement.
“WHERE IS IT?” Joebear shouted as he was almost leaping over the counter.
“Right here!” the bald man with the brownish hazel eyes said as he wore the Dairy Queen Crown and a Colonel Sanders outfit. I knew him as Prince Banana Ice.
“Thank you,” Joebear said as he quickly took the tray of ice cream dishes and set them on the table.
“You’re welcome,” said Prince Banana Ice.
“Thank God. I want to eat,” Joebear said as he ate his triple fudge sundae.
“Indeed. I need some ice cream,” I said as I ate my banana split. I was staring at the TV, so I was watching the news.
Fox 17 Channel News had Count Vanilla Manilla and Prince Banana Ice as the news anchors. Those two were everywhere.
“Excuse me. Excuse me. Excuse me-,” Count Vanilla Manilla started to say as he was near our table.
“YES?” Joebear said urgently as he shoveled another bite of his sundae down.
(I took this moment to eat the cherries in my banana split.)
“Would you both like complimentary manila folders? Count Vanilla Manilla asked.
“Yes please!” I shouted for joy for no apparent reason. ‘What is in these cherries?’ I thought to myself.
Count Vanilla Manilla handed me a manila folder. “Enjoy your folder, Nicole,” he said. “Enjoy your folder Nicole-.”
“I’LL TAKE A FOLDER. PLEASE! I JUST WANT TO EAT MY ICE CREAM IN PEACE!” Joebear shouted to interrupt the repetitive Count Vanilla Manilla.
Count Vanilla Manilla handed him a manila folder. “Enjoy your folder, Joebear. Enjoy your folder, Joe-,” he started to say.
“I will I will I will I will I will I will!” Joebear said rapidly to get Count Vanilla Manilla back behind the register so that he can enjoy his ice cream heaven in peace.
Count Vanilla Manilla walked away and sang, “Have a nice day! Have a nice day! Have a nice day! Have a nice day-!”
The customers harmonized with Count Vanilla Manilla and sang, “Have a nice day!!!!”
Then the news suddenly became louder when Channel 5 News interrupted the airwaves. Everyone turned to see Captain Kirk SmithLintnerschmidt…, Esq., MAM, MA, Ph.D. and Harriet SmithLintnerschmidt…, Ph.D. driving their tug boat.
“MY TUG BOAT WORKS!” Captain Kirk SmithLintnerschmidt…, Esq., MAM, MA, Ph.D. shouted with joy and laughed.
Vixie SmithLintnerschmidt…, Esq., MAM, MA, Ph.D., V.M (Veterinarian Medicine) barked and jumped.
Everyone in the ice cream shop yelled, “Hip Hip Hoorah! Hip Hip Hoorah! Hip Hip Hoorah! Hip Hip Hoorah! Hip Hip Hoorah! Hip Hip Hoorah! Hip Hip Hoorah! Hip Hip Hoorah! Hip Hip Hoorah! Hip Hip Hoorah!”
Count Vanilla Manilla’s cousin, Officer Squire Blinky strolled into the shop. He blinked nine times and nodded to Captain Kirk SmithLintnerschmidt…, Esq., MAM, MA, Ph.D.
Count Vanilla Manilla cleared his throat and translated Officer Squire Blinky’s blinks. “Hip hip hoorah! I am proud of Captain Kirk SmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson-.”
“WE GOT THE POINT, COUNT VANILLA MANILLA RANDOLPH JACKSON, JR!” Captain Kirk SmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Esq., Ph.D., MAM, MA shouted.
“OH SHIT! Officer Squire Blinky is blinking again!” Harriet SmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Ph.D. shouted.
“Yes. Hold on. I’m translating. Officer Squire Blinky, slow down. No one can translate that fast. Yes, everyone saw your heroic deeds in the Black Lives Matter protests. You protected the innocent at the riots, defended what was left of the CNN building in Atlanta, and held funeral services for the lion who said, ‘THIS IS CNN!” in the famous Simpsons episode,” Count Vanilla Manilla said.
Officer Squire Blinky blinked and was somehow able to stare at all of us. Count Vanilla Manilla gave him a banana split and a manila folder.
Count Vanilla Manilla translated again, “I, erm, Officer Squire Blinky is an innocent man only trying to help, protect, and serve society-.”
Officer Squire Blinky fake-coughed.
“ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT?!” a black customer shouted before he and his family jumped out of a window.
Officer Squire Blinky sighed, rolled his eyes, and blinked.
Count Vanilla Manilla sighed nine times and spoke quickly, “I mistranslated. Officer Squire Blinky is an innocent man trying to help, serve, and protect the collective for-.”
Officer Squire Blinky blinked.
“FOR THE GREATER GOOD! JEEZ, Blinky! I’m getting there. Sometimes you look like you’re having a seizure!” Count Vanilla Manilla said with frustration.
Captain Kirk SmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Esq., Ph.D., MAM, MA giggled.
Officer Squire Blinky blinked rapidly at Captain Kirk SmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Esq., Ph.D., MAM, MA.
Count Vanilla Manilla translated, “Verbal communication is difficult for some of us. Listening to you makes me wish I carried a remote that could turn down the volume. Please be kind to your local policemen.”
“I KNOW I’M LOUD! I’M SORRY! IT’S A LONG STORY!” Captain Kirk SmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Esq., Ph.D., MAM, MA shouted.
Harriet SmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Ph.D. moved her head away from the volume and recoiled. “The cliff notes version is that Kirk used to be named Kirk Bunyon, and his job was to collect lumber for the United States military. Apparently, he still hears the ring of chainsaws to this day.”
“YES. THEY RING IN MY HEAD NON-STOP. THEY DO,” Captain Kirk BunyonSmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Esq., Ph.D., MAM, MA.
Vixie BunyonSmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Esq., Ph.D., MAM, MA,VA barked with compassion.
Officer Squire Blinky stared at Captain Kirk BunyonSmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Esq., Ph.D., MAM, MA.
Count Vanilla Manilla translated, “I apologize for being insensitive. I wasn’t aware that your ears had gone through that much trauma. Would you like me to refer them to an ear specialist/therapist/psychiatrist?”
Captain Kirk BunyonSmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Esq., Ph.D., MAM, MA. blinked.
Count Vanilla Manilla translated, “Do they take my insurance?”
Officer Squire Blinky blinked twice.
Count Vanilla Manilla translated, “It depends. Have they ever listened to Niggers-?” His eyes widened. “Oh shit! You’re not supposed to say that word.”
Officer Squire Blinky chuckled and blinked sideways twice. Harriet (who removed her last name to protect her innocence) widened her eyes to the point where they took over her face.
Lake Michigan’s Custard and Frozen Yogurt closed its doors and bolted them shut before Prince Banana Ice put a sign up saying, “COMMUNITY MEETING IN PROGRESS.”
What the fuck was in my banana split?
Count Vanilla Manilla tried to translate again, “It depends. Have your ears listened to Niggas With Attitude?”
Harriet shouted, “I THINK IT’S TIME FOR A COMMERCIAL BREAK!”
Commercial Break – Fuck Criminals
Officer Squire Blinky Rapdaddy strutted under a bridge and blinked to the rhythm of “Fuck the Police” by N.W.A.
Count Vanilla (without the manila folders), Bruce Ice (a 5’11 man with brown hair and blue eyes who wore a loose blue T-shirt, black baggy pants, and blue high-top converses and WAS NOT A CRYP), and Prince Banana Ice strutted with Officer Squire Blinky Rapdaddy.
“Fuck criminals. They come straight from the underground. The young cops got it bad because they’re new!” Count Vanilla rapped.
______________________________________________________________________________
“I can’t handle this commercial right now,” I said as I threw my shoe at the television in the ice cream shop to change the channel. What kind of potassium is in that banana?
“ARE YOU MENTALLY-SCARRED FOR LIFE?!” Dr. Kirk BunyonSmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Esq. shouted at us from the TV while wearing a tan business suit and no cowboy or sailor hat/cap respectively. His hair was neatly combed.
I rolled on the floor and started laughing hysterically. “YES!!” I shouted and giggled even more.
I was then floating in space while Bobby from the 80s cartoon, Bobby’s World ran me over with his tricycle. Bobby then put his tricycle in reverse and ran over me again.
“The only way you will be cured from your mental trauma is through Jesus Christ,” Harriet BunyonSmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Ph.D.’s enormous floating head said as she floated over me. Her face returned to normal.
“Thank you, Harriet. I appreciate your words of wisdom. Where’s the rest of your body?” I asked.
“That’s a very long story. As a matter of fact, every reference that has been given in the last four quote-unquote ‘short’ stories has been as long as War and Peace, The Tale of Two Cities, the Harry Potter series, the Lord of the Rings trilogy, Webster’s Dictionary, 150th Edition, and the Yugi-Oh rule book… possibly combined,” Harriet BunyonSmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Ph.D.’s enormous floating head answered.
“THOSE STORIES ARE AS LONG AS OUR OWN NOVEL, “CAPTAIN KIRK AND SKIPPER HARRIET’S WILD WATER ADVENTURES IN TENNESSEE,” Kirk BunyonSmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Ph.D., Esq., MA, MAM’s giant floating head said in a voice that shook the universe.
(I wonder why Captain Kirk carries the Esquire title while Harriet, who came from a rich background, dropped hers. I thought about asking that question, but I had a feeling that that was even LONGER story than any novel mentioned above… possibly combined.)
Vixie BunyonSmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Esq. MA, MAM, Ph.D., VA barked and was as big as Planet Earth.
“You didn’t tell the correct title to our novel. The ACTUAL title of our novel is, ‘Captain Kirk, Skipper Harriet, and First Mate Vixie’s Wild Water Adventures in Tennessee,” Harriet BunyonSmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Ph.D. corrected.
“You guys wrote a novel?” I asked.
“We’re on the first draft,” Harriet BunyonSmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Ph.D. answered.
“WELL YOU SAT THERE AND EDITED IT 20 TIMES NOW! WE WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE IT PUBLISHED THREE YEARS AGO!” Kirk BunyonSmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Esq. MA, MAM, Ph.D. exclaimed.
“Sorry! I’m trying to make the story coherent to the reader. Those adventures were so fucked-up, I barely understand them,” Harriet BunyonSmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Ph.D. said.
“YEAH. SO FAR THE NOVEL IS ABOUT 560 PAGES LONG, AND WE HAVEN’T FINISHED THE CONCLUSION,” Kirk BunyonSmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Esq., MA, MAM, Ph.D. said.
“I’m working on trying to translate the novel in 92 languages, including dog language, which takes quite a while. Writing is hard, man,” Vixie said.
“It’s true. I ran out of ink and miswrote at times. It pissed me off, so I threw the pages at Kirk. He talks too fast sometimes,” Harriet BunyonSmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Ph.D. said.
“AND YOU DON’T??!!! HIMYNAMEISHARRIETANDIMGOINGTOTELLYOUABOUTMYDOORDASHINGANDSHOPPINGEXPERIENCESINTENNESEE.KIRKANDIWERECHASEDDOWNBYAMOBOFANGRYFROGSBECAUSEWEBROUGHTTHEWRONGCHIPSTOTHEIRPARTY!” Kirk BunyonSmithLinterLintnerschmidtJonesJohnson, Esq., Ph.D., MA, MAM shouted as he imitated Harriet’s natural quick speaking voice.
Harriet shot fire balls out of her eyes at Kirk.
Kirk’s giant floating head tried to dodge the barrage of fire balls being shot at him, but a few got him. “Okay! But you do talk fast. Just sayin’. That’s why I dictate, and you put it on paper.”
“It’s true. I am an expert at punctuation and syntax,” Harriet said (in her normal quick tone).
“Speaking quickly is a sign of intelligence,” I said. (I speak even more quickly than Harriet (or Joebear for that matter).)
“I concur,” Harriet said.
“May I buy a copy and have y’all sign it when you publish it?” I asked.
“SURE!” Kirk shouted in excitement.
“Eureka! I have an idea!” Harriet shouted.
Vixie barked.
“What’s that?” Kirk asked.
“The conclusion should definitely include our adventures at the Coldstone Creamery in Nashville, Tennessee where we hold a town meeting talking about the reasons for the societal breakdown and possible solutions… that very few people listened to,” Harriet said.
“I already started talking about the ‘special’ ice cream they served there. I’ve been trying to transcribe the ENTIRE meeting for a week now,” Vixie said.
“OH GOLLY THAT’S ANOTHER HUNDRED PAGES!” Harriet shouted.
“You hadn’t even gotten to the part where three angry hillbunnies came in and broke the windows. That’s at least another five pages. I even bought bourbon for the fuckers to ease the destruction. I even told the barista that it was a prime example of WHY we needed to spend more money on proper education, parenting classes, and police training. I did,” Kirk said in a normal volume.
“THAT dialogue is three pages. In there, you spoke a monologue that was two pages long. I was the secretary. MY HANDS ALMOST FELL OFF!” Harriet shouted.
“I was in the carrier frightened for my life. My contribution was one sentence long,” Vixie said.
“Eureka! Harriet! Get a pen, paper, tablet, or a stone to draw hieroglyphics! I have an important sentence to add to the conclusion!” Kirk said in a volume that was between normal speaking and shouting to his full extent. (If Kirk shouted to his full extent, he would break the sound barrier and actually cause a sonic boom.)
Harriet’s body had returned, and she was sitting at her desk with pen and paper. “I’m ready!”
Kirk dictated in a normal speaking voice because he did not want his novel to be in all capital letters. “Little did we know that riots, violence in the streets, starvation, jacked-up prices, stupider-than-stupid-.”
“Hold on, Kirk!” Harriet shouted to interrupt his dictation. “I’m trying to write the commas, but you’re going too fast.” She was furiously writing her notes like fast and furious. I wondered how the pen stayed in her hand.
Kirk waited for 30 seconds.
Harriet looked up. “Go ahead.”
“Stupider-than-stupid-than-dumb-than-IGNORANT-,” Kirk was dictating.
Vixie barked.
“VIXIE! I’M TRYING TO DICTATE!” Kirk shouted.
Harriet’s head was growing again as she wrote.
“What do you have so far?” Kirk asked.
“Little did we know that riots comma violence in the streets comma starvation comma jacked hypen up prices comma stupider hyphen than hyphen stupid hyphen than hyphen dumb hyphen than hyphen ignorant in all capital letters hyphen lower life forms open parentheses Vixie in all capital letters exclamation point-,” Harriet read.
“Scratch the parentheses. Keep the rest. MAY I CONTINUE?” Kirk asked.
Vixie barked an affirmative.
Harriet drew a line through open parentheses Vixie in all capital letters exclamation point… “Continue,” she said.
“…would be the new normal of society of the late 2010s through 2020. Yes, we have read the entirety of the Bible at least 10 times, but the prophets did not mention an exact time frame. We communed with God throughout this wild water adventure and had the strength to share it with you,” Kirk dictated.
Harriet was writing.
Vixie barked.
“We thank God every day that we have the discernment to realize that something is HORRIBLY WRONG with humanity as it stands today,” Kirk dictated.
Vixie barked twice.
“Correct, Vixie,” Kirk said. “These monkeys… beasts… Neanderthals… degenerates… whatever you want to call them lack true connection with God, which is evident in how they choose to conduct themselves when dealing with the public.”
Harriet nodded and swiftly wrote down what Kirk and Vixie were saying. “May I add that domestic violence, or the thought of domestic violence, comes from the result of the misunderstanding of the message of God?”
“Absolutely. That would be at least another 20 pages worth of writing to discuss the incidents of domestic violence I had to stop on that adventure. You just don’t hit women,” Kirk said.
Vixie barked rapidly in affirmation.
“So you guys have… 129 more pages to write?” I asked.
“At least that,” Harriet said.
All of a sudden, the wind blew at 35 miles per hour. We blew through the windows of the ice cream shop.
Joebear’s monumental head blew past us. His head was the size of the head of the maid space ship in Spaceballs. “Fuck off, wind. Seriously!” he shouted.
Oh shit, there goes the planet.
The wind blew violently and sent our happy valley asses to Hawaii.
Who Let the Dogs Out? by Baha Men – Conclusion
I woke up to the lead Baha man singing, “Who Let the Dogs Out?!”
Vixie, Sparky; Joebear’s deceased Collie who returned to life for this moment; and a black-and-white apple head Chihuahua named Maxwell Ice were barking to the rhythm of the famous 2000s song, “Who Let the Dogs Out?!” Two other dogs from the other neighbors who lived north of us barked slightly off key because they were late to the story.
The lead Baha man sang again, “Who Let the Dogs Out?!”
Then there was a big party with everyone and his or her brother from Lake Michigan’s Custard and Frozen Yogurt. Joebear and his brothers, Kevbear, Keifbear, and Chrisbear were eating real ice cream. Captain Kirk, Ph.D., Esq., MA, MAM and Skipper Harriet, Ph.D. were snacking on chips and salsa while drinking beer with my thin dark-haired, brown-eyed brother named Andrew. Count Vanilla Manilla and Officer Squire Blinky were munching on banana splits. Prince Banana Ice was surfing while the Baha Men continued to sing the famous song. Vixie, Sparky, Maxwell Ice, and the two other dogs were running around the party and pawing at everyone’s legs. The bigass golden retriever about knocked me down.
(I’m not copying the lyrics because I don’t want to get sued by the Baha Men and Co.)
End Credits: ‘Who Let the Dogs Out?!’ by Baha Men
‘Who Let the Souls Out?” by DarkSydePhil (https://youtu.be/1hJhGITcR4E)
Preview of one of the many long stories I will write: Somehow, Count Joebear VonCat and I end up running into Captain Kirk, Skipper Harriet, and First Mate Vixie again at the Halloween Ship Gathering Bob Wellington, Esquire, head of Affordable TugBoat and Sailboat Living set up in the sewers of Flagstaff, Arizona. Count Joebear VonCat dressed up as a Super Catheter with a cat design while I dressed up as Little Bo Penis Pump. Captain Kirk dressed up as a fancy pirate while Skipper Harriet dressed up as Kiera Knightley in the Pirates of the Caribbean. Vixie dressed up as a parrot and actually made the sounds.
Xara Nahara 