Johnny Dark Eyes remained free while on appeal. He had told the Judge that he was a member of the Arctic Club and was to appear in several frigid water swimming events at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. At liberty for the moment Johnny was terrified of the chilling water. The Judge was to witness one event but Johnny was paralyzed with fear. That is, until the Face of Everyman whispered, “Not to worry. The pool is heated.” “Jump!”
Sisters
The Ungalate twins, Martha and Falene always enjoyed Christmas dinner with the Songbirds at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. Management was pleased to make special considerations for their dining needs. They were much too large for the dining room, Food Court, or poolside canteen; so a sunny spot on the celebrity Chef’s fallow kitchen garden was set aside for Plus-sized guests. Ethnic foods of locally grown tulips, roses and patented begonias were his early winter gourmet specialty. The ladies ate, signed his guest book and left for yet another tasty snack up the street.
More
More snow was forecast for today along the Pacific Flyway. Benchley was somewhat concerned. He was a seasoned member on the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa Avalanche Rescue Team. He phoned his new Match Dot Com lady friend and suggested that they postpone their second luncheon date till next week. He didn’t want to be called out for duty just as they were getting better acquainted.
Audition
The Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa was having the Christmas Eve dance in the Grand Ballroom. Belasko auditioned for the spot of MC and featured entertainer. He chose White Christmas as his song and played the Spoons to a recording of Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies. The job was his as he closed with his famous crowd pleasing rendition of the Hokey Pokey. Even the venerable sage, despite his physical limitations, got a little rhythm going.
Namaste
Civility was a treasured aspect of life at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. “Namaste” said Raj as he greeted the Face of Everyman. Raj had been studying Sanskrit and had noticed the curious markings found on the venerable sage. He requested permission to make a charcoal rubbing for further study. Everyman did a quick smile and declined. After all, besides being personal, it was, in truth, his DNA.
Eons and Eons
the Face of Everyman was a patient soul. After all, his humble origins were as molten magma cooling into a stately basalt column far to the North eons ago. The ride South on a slow moving glacier was about the speed at which life seemed to be comfortable. Yet, here and now, important things were slow to occur. Six weeks ago he had requested that his space be cleaned and freshened. The Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa hired some guy on Torkie’s List because of the lo-ball estimate. Now, unsure when adequate fresh water would be flowing; his skin was drying out and starting to exfoliate. For the first time in his life he knew anxiety.
Protocol
Once again it was an awkward moment at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. Neither could remember the Protocol applicable here. Was it “First come, first served?” “Age before beauty?” “Ladies first?” Or alphabetical by taxonomic rank? Bathing together never seemed an option.
Mezcal
Mullard awoke cold, wet and hung over. He had slept the night somewhere on the grounds of the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. His downfall began at the gala opening of a franchise fish taco stand poolside; he and others had celebrated in the Bar with Mezcal shooters till closing. Of course, as a courtesy, he was given the worm at the bottom of ever bottle. Him being a bird; and all …
Spats
Erskine had been hatched with a sense of style few others possessed. He immediately buckled up his Grandfather’s spats and went off to his first day at the Montetorkie School. Guests at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa smiled with a feeling of satisfaction in knowing the had booked into a Spa for the Smart Set.
Bounty Hunter
Rivers Styx, the Bounty Hunter, was out hanging wanted posters on Heathcote and other suspects. He heard the distinctive rustle of leaves and the scurry of small padded feet. His prize was near. Then, without warning, the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa security camera captured his startled image. Nearly blinded he knew that this night’s hunt was over. He headed home and in a mournful voice he let out his signature hoot: “Who Cooks For You?” Link takes you off site: http://tinyurl.com/zjxj94m
torkelsbirds 