Whenever I find myself flustered, I begin to sweat like a large, sweaty warthog, turning the deodorant on my underarms into cheese pits. I desperately start grasping at anything that can withstand my vice-like grip–an umbrella, a fat child, a bicycle–whatever’s in reach. I start to stammer out a subversion of English, a patois of slang and muttering, and my face turns into a indistinguishable glare that cannot be undone. Not the best state of being for a first date.
Having been unable to resist jumping into the glowing pool of crystal blue water that suddenly appeared on their living room floor, PeePee and Schnoogums took an unexpectedly one-way joyride through a porthole to Junipermarsvildia, a maginificent land where a great green umbrella sheltered its spirit from futilitarian Earth neighbors and the canorous patois of the common people echoed in harmony throughout the peony- and lime-Skittles-smelling clean, fresh air. Here we’ll stay, cried PeePee, and Schnoogums said ooh lalalalalala shananananalala, which meant DOUBLE YES RIGHT ON!! in their newly adopted language.
Miles and Charlie sat one foot apart, facing each other. Their eyes turned into sticks with points of light on the ends and grew longer and longer until they were looking into each others stomachs. There, clusters of tiny neon umbrellas floated in the light of their spirits. They mumbled happily to each other in a neat patois, finely whittled by years of routine.