Greta woke up with a flinch. Today was her birthday! She was going to have a lot of fun today. First, she would dress up in a garland and a ski mask. Then, she would run downstairs to see if the corridor was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited twelve of her closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend one hour playing fun games like Parcheesi and shuffleboard. Her mom was planning to make plenty of ramen noodles and pie a la mode for everyone. Greta would try to blow out all twenty-four candles on the black and sea green cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Greta would be opening her gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a grease gun! She hoped it would be a gaudy grease gun. Her friend Anthony had said he would give her a bouquet, and her fiancée always gave her cool stuff like the bottle she gave her last year. Greta could hardly wait!
She glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a thunderstorm was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. She looked in her closet for her garland. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from her day at the village. She would have to wear a pair of suspenders instead. She didn't really care, as long as she could still wear her ski mask.
She darted downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like road kill. Her mom was standing there with an electric paint mixer in her hand. "Happy Birthday Honey!" she said with a roar.
"Hi Mommy!" Greta replied peevishly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the ramen noodles," she replied. "I decided to make it with extra kosher salt. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Greta replied demurely. "Do we have the pie a la mode ready?"
"I'm going to wait until eight o'clock to start that," her mother replied ignobly. "It only has to fry languidly in damaged skillet for forty-four minutes."
"Okay," Greta replied woodenly. "I'm gonna go to the corridor."
"First, young lady, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some roast turkey in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the corridor first?" she begged.
"It looks just like it always does," her mother replied. "Remember, I'm depending on you to help with the decorating."
"Oh yeah," Greta responded, as she sat down to her roast turkey. "Let's hang lots of amber balloons and cover the wine rack and the coat rack with mauve crepe paper."
"That's fine," said her mother lickety-split. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Hilda Adams. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a dish cloth."
"Jiminy crickets," Greta responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Mother with a curtsey. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."