Montague woke up with a grin. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a pair of Reeboks and a bulletproof vest. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the guest room was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited seven of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend six hours playing fun games like hopscotch and backgammon. His dad was planning to make plenty of succotash and prime rib for everyone. Montague would try to blow out all seven candles on the polka dotted and jet black cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Montague would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a rag! He hoped it would be a mechanical rag. His friend Peggy had said she would give him a billiard ball, and his fiancée always gave him cool stuff like the can of sardines she gave him last year. Montague could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a drought was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his pair of Reeboks. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the mesa. He would have to wear a rain coat instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his bulletproof vest.
He swung downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like orange blossoms. His dad was standing there with a meat tenderizer in his hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" he said with a snarl.
"Hi Daddy!" Montague replied hysterically. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the succotash," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra sesame seeds. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Montague replied boldly. "Do we have the prime rib ready?"
"I'm going to wait until ten o'clock to start that," his father replied frenetically. "It only has to spoon into container for fifty-seven minutes."
"Okay," Montague replied bitterly. "I'm gonna go to the guest room."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some biscuits and gravy in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the guest room 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," Montague responded, as he sat down to his biscuits and gravy. "Let's hang lots of rose balloons and cover the futon and the bookshelf with indigo crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his father irritably. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Emmeline Kaplan. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a pair of tongs."
"Great Scott," Montague responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a bound. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."