Clifton woke up with a jeer. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a gun belt and a tinfoil hat. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the boudoir was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited seventeen of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend six hours playing fun games like battleship and Rummy. His dad was planning to make plenty of scrambled eggs and lamb curry for everyone. Clifton would try to blow out all six candles on the silver and brown cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Clifton would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain an oriental vase! He hoped it would be a gross oriental vase. His friend Elena had said she would give him a hammer, and his sister always gave him cool stuff like the padlock she gave him last year. Clifton could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a gale was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his gun belt. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the cesspool. He would have to wear a pair of nylons instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his tinfoil hat.
He trekked downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like cotton candy. His dad was standing there with a dish cloth in his hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" he said with a cackle.
"Hi Daddy!" Clifton replied hastily. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the scrambled eggs," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra walrus meat. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Clifton replied tearfully. "Do we have the lamb curry ready?"
"I'm going to wait until five o'clock to start that," his father replied cunningly. "It only has to microwave for twenty-seven minutes."
"Okay," Clifton replied ingeniously. "I'm gonna go to the boudoir."
"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 boudoir 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," Clifton responded, as he sat down to his fondue. "Let's hang lots of chocolate brown balloons and cover the hope chest and the cupboard with periwinkle crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his father numbly. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite Tv star, Chelsea Friedman. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a cheesecloth."
"Well I'll be," Clifton responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a clenched fist. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."