Contretemps
Red wine is certifiably itchy trying to get Linda to splash Sally . When Sally walks in wearing Brad ’s shirt – the one with the heather on it . What isn ’ t a contretemps with those people ? It wasn ’ t my fault I buried the drugs , Sally said , wilting the lettuce with hot oil , Appalachian style . Glenda managed to join the tennis club , only to find that Tony had left , and had taken up croquet – or crochet – or Pinochet – or Pinocchio – or pinochle – or pineapple mastication for his health . Linda blamed everyone . Did you see Hal collapse at the piano , with one of those pussy willow rib – ticklers on ? How much irony did you put in that drink ? he gasped . I am going to get me a slice of Brad ’ s heather shirt — you see if I don ’ t ! A dog is here , with a message for the cows . . . ‘ Drop dead ’ , I think he said , and when Angelo turned up shirtless on his motorbike . . . People started doing a bit of algebra in their front mashed potato ( it was Halloween , after all ) . ( Teenagers panting under the eaves and all that . ) They’ve got Supertramp playing on the green this year ; I don ’ t know what respectable folkies see in ‘ \ ’ ‘ / ’ them myself . They ’ re no Yoko Onos are they ? Angelo turned the heat up by taking a hacksaw to the last baguette – as if there aren ’ t kids to foster in his own village – or whatever they have up in those rainbows he lives in . The bridge fell on Hal ’ s house last night , but no one believed him so his grandmother was stuck there half the night , with a girder holding her scalp in place : you could say . But how the bridge got there is anyone ’ s business .