SUPER FAT TUESDAY!

(They've also been calling it Tsunami Tuesday...which I really didn't grab ahold of until right now. Kickass! And now...back to the show...)

Tuesday was supersized! Tuesday was PHAT! Tuesday was in a 50's tuxedo, and his neck was draped with so many leis, and cheap necklace beads that Flava-Flave would be madly jealous. There was a strange scent in the air, vaugely like the air before it rains, only more electric.

Monday was there making an appearance. Nobody held it against him that he was sullen. After all, he was not only Monday, but also had just suffered the indignity of being a regular old hated Monday between Super Sunday, and Super Fat Tuesday. He held onto his drink like a life preserver.

Wednesday was there, hanging onto a telephone pole as a vixen dressed in what can only be described as a "super sexy election volunteer" costume ran a ballot repeatedly over his hump. A giant float passed slowly behind them in the street, where a thick-waisted gentleman was dressed as Baccus, trying to look like he was enjoying drinking wine from a cornocopia, and throwing trinkets to whoever noticed him.

Thursday was chatting with a Japanese businessman who was standing by the gates to the church that was the local polling place. Overheard were his words, "I thought he said - I'm going to the boat!"

Even Friday was there, working his way through the throng of press, women, hangers-on and assorted merrymakers.

"Friday!" Tuseday shouted with a slight slur, "Glad you could make it!"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Super Fat Tuesday. Say, looks like you gained a few pounds!"
"A few!" Tuseday laughed and smacked his gut. "Try fifty! I just hope after today I can take it off!" Around them the crowd laughed too. A float with numerous mermaids glided quietly behind them, following the wake of Baccus.

"Tuseday! Tuseday! a man in a fedora shouted. In the headband of the hat was stuck a piece of white paper with the word "Press" written on it. He shouted again. "Tuseday! Any predictions before the results are in?"

"YES!" Tuseday bellowed. "I predict, more rain this year!" The crowd roared! "I predict," he continued, "more jellyfish attacks," The crowd cheered less strongly, looking at each other. "I predict," Tuesday plowed on, "There will be no ice-cream sandwich shortage this year!" The crowd roared again, "And I predict a glorious night will be had by ALL!" The crowd broke into complete meyham. Glasses were emptied, strangers kissed and groped each other passionately! Just then a float carrying Venus trundled past, and the whole crowd swarmed it, jumping up, and finding precarious seats and handholds. The weekdays were swept up and found themselves riding slowly down the street, surrounded by throngs of people.

Tuseday, as chance had placed him in just the right spot, recieved the most passionate kiss from the goddess of the float, surrounded by nymphs and weekdays, and a mob of humanity. He pulled himself away from her delicious lips as the pressman shouted at the slowly dissapearing float of revelry.

"I ment about the elections...the president!"

Tuesday grabbed onto a trellace covered in beautiful roses, and swung himself off of Venus to look back at the receeding newspaperman.

"I PREDICT," he shouted, "THE FIRST CANDIDATE TO OFFER A FREE MONKEY WILL GET MY VOTE!"

"A MONKEY?!!" The newspaperman shouted back.

"YEAH, AND IT BETTER BE TRAINED TO DO LAUNDRY!"

The crowd exploded! People kissed, threw hats, and shirts and pants! Unspeakable acts of debauchery happened spontaneously afterwards. Then, like a dream, someone somewhere began to chant...

"Free Monkey!"

And more people took up the chant.

"FREE MONKEY!"

Suddenly moving slowly down the street was the float of Venus, covered like a chia-pet with half-naked humans, shaking their fists in unison, along with a likewise half-disrobed mob walking around and behind it, all yelling in perfect unison,

"FREE MONKEY!...FREE MONKEY!...FREE MONKEY!" The chant was taken up by spectators on balconys, people ran from their houses to join the procession until it reached blocks behind the float. Windows rattled with the synchronous voices yelling for a free monkey.

***
CUT TO: The Next County
An old man and an old woman sit on rocking-chairs on a rickety porch. The sound of "Free Monkey" drifts over the swamp and grove of trees.

Old Man: Do my ears decieve me, or do I hear someone calling for a free monkey?
Old Woman: Free Monkey would be nice, what with my bunions and all, 'specially if it could do the laundry.
Old Man: Guess that's where my vote goes then.
(the woman looks deeply into his eyes. He notices and looks back)

CUT TO: Their hands clasping
***

CUT TO: The Shouting Mob Around The Float of Venus

Friday has worked his way through the mass of humanity on the float, and stands next to Tuesday. He speaks in between defening shouts of "FREE MONKEY!" to say,
"I think I really like Super Fat Tuesday!"
"Yeah, me too." Tuesday says back, but has a knowing look.
"No. I mean, no, really." Friday looks at Tuesday knowingly. "This is all you."
"Okay." Tuesday says with a smile.

"Happy Super Fat Tuesday!" He shouts, grabs a handfull of rose-petals and throws them high above the chanting crowd.