In Which The Muppets Are Payed Homage To, Ben Gains A Fan Base, We Are Seriously Frightened By Two Tiny Girls, And Kat Is A Victim Of Slave Labor

But before we get into anything, here's the quote of the day. Said by my English teacher, Mrs. S., after I told her about the Point of No Return Party.

"Max, Ben, Gabe, you, Mac - whose bright idea was it to let you within ten feet of each other?"

She has a point. But, to move on.

Closing day! Oh yes! Life is good. PotO is on Pay-Per-View, which besides being great has a nice ring to it, and I have creative projects over the summer, and well, things are going well. So of course - but of course something really bizarre has to happen now. This bizarre thing takes the form of nothing but a Talent Show. At school. At our school. This strange Garnier Junior High School. Bad idea? Probably. Giving rise to some interesting experiences? Definitely.

It began, you know, with fate. Or, more accurately, the child of fate, not to be confused with Beyoncé of the single name. What I mean is Destiny's Child. They caused the whole problem, they did. You see, some time ago they released a song that went single for reasons having to do with having the music publisher's dear aunt hanging over a vat of boiling acid. Then, these two sixth graders who are basically mini-Talias (that's mini-Ally/Denas for Ben and Spencer) pick it for their dance for the talent show.

Now, I dance. I've danced since I was five years old. But this was just. . .Holy jailbait, Batman! In other words, it was more suggestive than the ideas that Max and Ben's collaborative dirty minds can come up with.

Max and Ben: I do not have a dirty mind! He does!

Yes, yes. But really. I don't know if Ben was backstage for this one, but let's hope you were, for your own very small amount of innocence. I do know that Max was next to me, looking scared. Well, this dance might have still been frightening but it might have made more sense, had the sixth graders not been in a stage of feminine developement that I might liken to my sister Allie's.

I believe the next memorable event was Ben the Magnificent Magician. (Go on all you like about how you were billed wrong, I'll never cease to harass you for that one.) My confusion started when the audience started chanting his name. I turned to Max and roared over the noise, "When did he find a fan base?" Max didn't know either. As it is wont to do, trouble began with the first trick. Two tubes, switch glass and bottle beneath the tubes. Then Ben explained how he'd done it - with an extra bottle. When we laughed at him, he snapped, "You fell for it, laugh at yourself!"

Max and I exchanged glances. Yes, it was definitely Ben up there. Ben then proceeded to remove from beneath the tubes more bottles of water than the thirstiest hiker could put away, and completely caught most of us off guard. Thankfully, he limited himself to one bad joke, regarding an Oriental fan, which the audience laughed at anyway, and then the confetti fell. Ben actually exited to chants of encore. The entire act could be distilled in one adjective. It was quite forvirrendespøkelsesaktigungfarligmeddatamaskinteoricreatorish. Good show, Ben.

Wow, forget a theatre, guys, we need to open an old Parisian music hall, complete with disillusioned dancer who would like to be a novelist, like in "The Vagabond," by Colette, the harried legal manager, and the eccentric magician.

Moving on. The next act, or something like it, was on piano, so I was well prepared for a nice classical bit. Oh, how wrong I was. A senior who I believe was Marius in Les Miz - and not the best Marius I've heard - began to sing like Kermit the Frog. My hopes were duly dashed. He had to start over several times. Scary.

Then my choir teacher, my science teacher, the director of students activities, my former PE coach, and someone else's former body piercer/math teacher started playing a U2 song. Which would have been odd, except for the fact that the director was also wearing a huge feathered hat and a sleeveless T-Shirt, which made it positively surreal.

As for slave labor. Well. How did you spend your afternoon? Guess what I was doing? I was lugging Coke bottles full of glue from and to Mrs. V's art room. Yes, Coke bottles full of glue. For three damnable hours. For detention. I got some very strange looks, let me tell you. They were from high school girl's sculpture who apparently thought to herself, "Oh! I know what I'll do! I'll fill bottle after Coke bottle with red and blue glue and then stick them on silver boards and hang them up! What a great idea!"

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.