Malcolm woke up with a sneeze. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a pair of shoes and a pair of handcuffs. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the auditorium was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited eight of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend two hours playing fun games like roulette and doctor. His mom was planning to make plenty of catfish stew and mashed potatoes for everyone. Malcolm would try to blow out all nine candles on the sea green and green cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Malcolm would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a mousetrap! He hoped it would be a rancid mousetrap. His friend Don had said he would give him a calculator, and his mother-in-law always gave him cool stuff like the sponge she gave him last year. Malcolm could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a hailstorm was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his pair of shoes. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the crime scene. He would have to wear a set of braces instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his pair of handcuffs.
He inched downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like vinegar. His mom was standing there with a Sham-Wow! in her hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" she said with a grimace.
"Hi Mommy!" Malcolm replied nervously. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the catfish stew," she replied. "I decided to make it with extra yeast. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Malcolm replied glibly. "Do we have the mashed potatoes ready?"
"I'm going to wait until four o'clock to start that," his mother replied excitedly. "It only has to whirl for seventy-four minutes."
"Okay," Malcolm replied roughly. "I'm gonna go to the auditorium."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some tofu in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the auditorium first?" he begged.
"It looks just like it always does," his mother replied. "Remember, I'm depending on you to help with the decorating."
"Oh yeah," Malcolm responded, as he sat down to his tofu. "Let's hang lots of periwinkle balloons and cover the carpet and the table with silver crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his mother trustingly. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Violet Blake. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a foot."
"Yahoo," Malcolm responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Mother with a wrinkled nose. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."