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.

Ommmmmmm......

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 I’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 ain’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.

“GEORGE, 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?”

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 out… this isn’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??"

“And what is it about ‘#52 Horrid Red Lipstick’ you don’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.