ed.: If you hadn't noticed, this is a story based on caption suggestions from the previous post.
George just stood there, not knowing how to act.
What is this? Where am I? It isn't a party. It isn't a disco. Yet there he was standing in a line leading up to something? Why was he here?
The loud beat of music came from the building. "Mama's Got a Squeeze-box, Daddy doesn't sleep at night....."
George liked The Who.
"Can I see some ID please?"
George frantically searched for pockets on his costume. Nothing. Isn't it good enough that he is wearing LL Bean's best-selling monkey suit? Obviously not.
An impatient voice piped up from behind him in the line: "My name is Melinda Doolittle and Iâ€™m feeling very surprised by all your votes."
What? Nobody voted for me? I am just about to be kicked out of here...and I don't even know why I am here!
"Hey buddy, this ain't no foolin' around! Helooo, I'm waiting!!!"
Finally George produced a picture that looked nothing like him. "Senior picture," he explained.
Following a glare from the bulky man in front of him, George thought: No time for dancing, or lovey dovey,I ainâ€™t got time for that now.
He slinked out of the line. He started down the street: first walking, then running.
"Slow down, work zone!" came a shout from his left as he ran.
"Squirrel crossing" came a call from the right.
Yo Mamma, George thought to himself and kept running. No workmen, no squirrels; you people are pathetic!
George felt strong; he felt invincible, I pity the fool that messes with me!
Suddenly he heard a familiar voice: "You! Over here RIGHT NOW! Because I said so!" It was his Father.
George came to a sudden stop.
â€œGEORGE, I said STOP that monkeying around right this minute! Why are you just gallivanting around in that silly costume? And just where is that homework?â€
George's father stood in front of him, tapping his foot. Suddenly he lunged at George and put him in a head lock.
"Come on dad let me outâ€¦ this isnâ€™t funny anymore." George said, as he tried to pull away. As he did so, his father's arm was covered with a red substance.
"Eewww! Is that lip-gloss??"
â€œAnd what is it about â€˜#52 Horrid Red Lipstickâ€™ you donâ€™t like on me?" George responded. "It is just part of the costume!"
George's father glared at him. He wouldn't answer this one. He would wait until the next caption contest.