Borat woke up with a frown. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a pair of knickers and a jumpsuit. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the pool room was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited thirteen of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend four hours playing fun games like treasure hunt and badminton. His mom was planning to make plenty of popcorn and roast Cornish game hen for everyone. Borat would try to blow out all thirty-two candles on the olive drab and sea green cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Borat would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a vacuum cleaner! He hoped it would be a gross vacuum cleaner. His friend Tommy had said he would give him a saddle, and his dad always gave him cool stuff like the football she gave him last year. Borat could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a hurricane was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his pair of knickers. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the housing development. He would have to wear a stethoscope instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his jumpsuit.
He jumped downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like Yves Saint Laurent. His mom was standing there with a corkscrew in her hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" she said with a guffaw.
"Hi Mommy!" Borat replied delicately. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the popcorn," she replied. "I decided to make it with extra yogurt. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Borat replied lightly. "Do we have the roast Cornish game hen ready?"
"I'm going to wait until three o'clock to start that," his mother replied boldly. "It only has to fry diligently in smumpy skillet for fifty-five minutes."
"Okay," Borat replied sweetly. "I'm gonna go to the pool room."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some fried chicken in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the pool room 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," Borat responded, as he sat down to his fried chicken. "Let's hang lots of fuchsia balloons and cover the armoire and the ping-pong table with chartreuse crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his mother strictly. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Kaylee Quinn. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a bare foot."
"The joke's on me," Borat responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Mother with a sneer. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."