So as soon as I mention it...

"Am I the only one who thinks this week has been shit?" Friday says to the four other weekdays gathered in the back of a tinted-windowed limousine, nursing his mood with a drink of dark liquid.
"Damn, I'll say." Replies Tuesday, his chin resting on his right fist, eyes gazing out at the lights of passing storefronts.
"And this weather," Wednesday says reaching over his shoulder to massage his aching hump, "Does not help."
"A feeling of...what is it?" Monday says, "Constriction?"
Thursday walked stoop-backed across the limo and pulled a beer from the mini-fridge, and stumbled back from where he started.
"This baby '08's already throwing his weight around like this year's some kind of roller-coaster. Up, down, left right...shit." He flopped back into the leather couch in the back and cracked his beer. "And I'm not positive at this stage, it's a good thing."

Heads nodded, as just then the limo-driver honked at a stupid driver.
"But what does it all mean?" Asks Tuesday with a tinge of hopefulness.
"I dunno, but after what I've seen over the last two years, I am not hopeful." Says Monday.
"Which fortunately, is not far from your normal state. Ha-ha-ha!" Quips Thursday, which draws much less hilarious response than he hoped, and he hadn't hoped that much, which made it worse.

"Well look," Says Tuesday, "The kid's like 11, right?"
Wednesday looked over, with the arm over his shoulder massaging his back stopped, and shot a look of stupidity at Tuesday.
"You can add?!" He took his arm down to grab a glass held in place by a plastic holder set into the limo couch. He took the glass, had a sip, then added, "So, he's 11, and in a lifespan of 365 days, that's like, 1/33rd of the whole gjoddang lifespan. If you wanna break it down into months, he's like near a half-a-month-old in a twelve month lifespan. Duh."

"Uh-huh..." Tuesday shot back, only more addressing the weekdays as Wednesday was working to make his point. "That's what I was talking about. See, if the average human lives to around 84 years old, we can do the math and figure out he's aging at near 7 years every month. So right now he's about three-and-a-half! That's just about when kids are able to figure out right from wrong...right?"

"I dunno." Monday responded, "Never had kids."
"Me neither" Thursday says.
Tuesday and Wednesday just shook their heads "no."

Tuesday didn't mind, he just kept going.
"So let's show up wherever he's at, and and convince the kid that he shouldn't throw his weight around like this!"

"Yeah!" Shouted Monday.
"Okay. Sure!" Granted Wednesday.
"Not a bad idea at all." Thursday said.
"And if we can't," Friday said, "Let's scare the fuck outta' the kid." He had another sip of his dark drink, "After all, who runs things around here? Some rapidly maturing and dying year-entity being, or the immortal passing days, US!"

"YEAH!" They all shouted, spontaneously raising their glasses in a toast.

"Holy shit," Tuesday said, noticing a store out the window. "There's a costume shop! Let's get masks! I'm past convincing, I just wanna scare the crap outta' that little shit!"

Friday picked up a telephone, and called the driver.
"Pull over here for a minute."

Happy Friday.