During the summer, I would walk to a little ice cream shop once a week and pick up some ice cream for me and my sister before I picked her up from gymnastics class. This Thursday was no different.
I walked down the sidewalks of downtown Lakeville, clad in sunglasses and flip-flops. I crossed the street and approached Dairy Delite, the ice cream stand smack dab in the middle of downtown. I ordered Bloo Goo (vanilla ice cream with blue food coloring) in a dish for Blair, and an Oreo Snowstorm for myself (They legally couldn't have named them Blizzards because of trademarking).
As I walked away from the small, blue building, a red double-decker bus racing down Main Street. What the hell? They're awfully far from London...
The strange vehicle came to a screeching halt right in front of me. The doors parted and a lady who looked an awful lot like the Queen of England (At least I thought she did) smiled at me.
"Hello, Koda," She says. "Are you coming or going?" She holds out her hand.
I reluctantly take the outstretched hand, still questioning how the hell this woman knew my name, and she leads me on to the bus.
"Tea, dearie?" She questions.
I nod politely since it would be rude to decline. She fixes my tea, adding a dash of cream and sugar and hands over the cup and saucer.
As I look around I notice that the bus is full of strange people. One guy was decked out in a suit with a Union Jack print, a woman who looked awfully similar to Professor Trewlawney in Harry Potter, a teenager in a Spiderman costume, and a girl in a full marching band uniform. Needless to say, I was extremely confused.
A man in his fifties sat in a chair near the back of the bus. His eyes watched my every move and the angry look on his face didn't seem to vanish.
I sit down in the middle of the bus and I can feel the man's eyes glued to the back of my head. I take a sip of the tea, all but spitting it out. The drink couldn't possibly constitute as tea, there was hardly any sugar, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I can feel my eyes getting heavier by the second. The Queen lady must've put a sedative in the tea, not sugar.
I open my eyes who knows how long after I get on the bus. I pull my phone out of my shorts pocket to check the time. Dead. It was still light outside, but the sun was starting to set.
Shit. Blair is still at gymnastics. Maybe Mom picked her up? I needed to know if she got home okay. I stand up to leave and walk towards the door.
I try to get off, but the grumpy old man stands blocking the door.
"Please let me through, I have to make sure my sister is okay. I was supposed to pick her up from gymnastics but you crazy people brought me onto this wretched bus."
"Avise, tell dear Koda our policy." The man says to the Queen lady.
"You can't get off until you make Mr. Dev laugh." She states plainly.
"You heard the woman, MAKE ME LAUGH." Mr. Dev yells.
How the hell am I supposed to do that? I'm nowhere near funny enough to make him laugh just by talking and cracking jokes.
I look around the bus to see what I can use to make Mr. Dev laugh. There's a pair of dirty underwear, a banana peel, a bra, a dead fish, and a walking stick. I sit in a seat and try to come up with an idea. I sit for a good five minutes before settling on an idea. I was going to try not to puke while tying the underwear onto the walking stick. I place the banana peel in the middle of an open area on the bus. The dead fish was tied onto the bra, with the bra tied onto the walking stick, making the stick look like a very strangely designed flag.
I take a deep breath before speaking.
"Okay, Mr. Dev, ready to laugh?"
"I doubt it."
I put my hands on the walking stick with the dirty underwear acting like a silk tied onto it. Man I wish I had cheaters on here.
I start to perform my old winter guard routine with my makeshift flag and before I'm even an eight count in, Mr. Dev stops me.
"What did you do to Little Sticky?" He questions.
"Little Sticky?" I stand there with my "flag" at a relaxed position.
"Yes. Now what did you do to him?"
"I simply made him better." I smile. "Everything is better as a flag."
"Well." He crosses his arms. "Continue."
I finish the routine, slipping every toss from the banana peel I placed strategically, hoping Mr. Dev would laugh if I fell and the flag hit me on the head every freaking time, the underwear would also whap me in the face, along with the dead fish. I was out of breath by the end and my head and arms and legs were killing me. Not to mention, my face was wet and sticky, covered with fish guts and dirty underwear bacteria.
"Well?" I ask him breathing heavily.
