Boots woke up with a sniff. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a derby and a sport coat. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the dungeon was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited twenty-five of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend three hours playing fun games like shuffleboard and rummy. His dad was planning to make plenty of dirty rice and crumb cake for everyone. Boots would try to blow out all thirty-four candles on the sea green and brown cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Boots would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a teddy bear! He hoped it would be a synthetic teddy bear. His friend Leah had said she would give him a piggy bank, and his grandpa always gave him cool stuff like the paper towel she gave him last year. Boots could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a thunderstorm was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his derby. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the crime scene. He would have to wear a tie instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his sport coat.
He strolled downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like creosote. His dad was standing there with a ladle in his hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" he said with an evil eye.
"Hi Daddy!" Boots replied fearlessly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the dirty rice," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra salt. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Boots replied peevishly. "Do we have the crumb cake ready?"
"I'm going to wait until three o'clock to start that," his father replied humbly. "It only has to arrange for thirty-one minutes."
"Okay," Boots replied gratefully. "I'm gonna go to the dungeon."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some fondue in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the dungeon first?" he begged.
"It looks just like it always does," his father replied. "Remember, I'm depending on you to help with the decorating."
"Oh yeah," Boots responded, as he sat down to his fondue. "Let's hang lots of terra cotta balloons and cover the catbird seat and the ironing board with olive drab crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his father fearlessly. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite Tv star, Ophelia Morrissey. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a Sham-Wow!."
"Holy smokes," Boots responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a growl. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."