Borat woke up with a gasp. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a negligee and a coat of mail. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the study was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited nineteen of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend three hours playing fun games like seven-up and red light green light. His dad was planning to make plenty of biscuits and gravy and chicken pot pie for everyone. Borat would try to blow out all thirty-three candles on the olive drab and khaki cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Borat would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a feather duster! He hoped it would be a ragged feather duster. His friend Elaine had said she would give him a salt shaker, and his mommy always gave him cool stuff like the spider she gave him last year. Borat could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a flood was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his negligee. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the country meadow. He would have to wear a pair of tights instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his coat of mail.
He trotted downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like ginger. His dad was standing there with a corkscrew in his hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" he said with a gasp.
"Hi Daddy!" Borat replied testily. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the biscuits and gravy," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra celery. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Borat replied roughly. "Do we have the chicken pot pie ready?"
"I'm going to wait until nine o'clock to start that," his father replied tearfully. "It only has to blanch for seventy-eight minutes."
"Okay," Borat replied primly. "I'm gonna go to the study."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some hot dogs in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the study 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," Borat responded, as he sat down to his hot dogs. "Let's hang lots of brilliant orange balloons and cover the catbird seat and the beanbag chair with golden crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his father gratefully. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Josephine Zimmerman. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a fork."
"Shiver me timbers," Borat responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a honk. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."