My birthday present to Gary Jordan. The stupidest thing I've ever written (yes, stupider than Love in Zero-G ). Inspired by the GSN stories collectively archived here at The Girl Scout Nookie Collection
Copyright February 2006
It was a typical Sunday afternoon: John was upstairs playing Civilization on the computer and I was curled up on the couch with the latest Sue Grafton novel. The only thing atypical was the knock on the door.
We tend to not get unannounced visitors unless they are the suit-wearing, bicycle-riding, pamphlet-carrying kind. So to say I was reluctant to answer the door would be a gross understatement.
I opened the door, all ready with my "No thanks, I'm an atheist" speech, only to find myself staring at four young girls.
It took me a few seconds to find my voice because I was trying to wrap my brain around what I was seeing: four young girls, ages probably eight to twelve, wearing black pants and boots, red shirts and Brownie sashes. Yes, Brownie sashes. And did I mention the pointy ears?
"May I help you?" I finally managed to get out.
"We're looking for Gary Jordan. Ya know, the porn writer," answered the brunette.
"It's not porn, Kira, it's 'erotica'," countered the blonde. She looked to be the oldest of the group, and was clearly used to being the one in charge.
"Whatever, Janice." She sighed. "Can you just get him for us."
"This isn't Gary's house."
"Then who the hell are you?" demanded the black girl.
"I'm Souvie, who the hell are you?" Show up on my doorstep with attitudes, would they? I'm from Texas -- big hair ain't the only thing that's big in that state.
The redhead put her hands on her hips. "Shit, we must've taken a wrong turn at Albequerque." She shook her head in disgust. "Sorry, I'm Kathy. I guess we need to explain, huh?"
"We don't gotta explain nothin' to her!"
"Nyota, shut up or I'll slip you a roofie and make you blow the chess club again!"
"Hey!" the blonde stomped her foot. "It's supposed to be my turn next."
"Fuck off you bleached bimbo!" Nyota shot back. "I'm tired of you gettin' all the action."
The two stood breast to breast.
"Um, is there a cat fight down there?"
"Go back to your game!" I yelled up to my husband. To the two girls I gave a stern look. "You," I said, pointing at the black girl, "can keep the chess club." I turned to the blonde. "And you can 3; do the math club."
"Oh goody!" Janice said, bouncing up and down. "I love math! Six plus nine equals sixty-nine!"
I figured her for a natural blonde.
The fight averted, Kathy proceeded to enlighten me. "We were sent as a birthday present for Gary Jordan. Evidently our directions weren't as clear as we thought they were."
"Who sent you?" This was making no sense at all. I glanced over my shoulder at the stairs. I could still hear the sounds of John's computer game. No help there.
"Jack C. Lipton and Russ Hoisington," Kira answered. "They wanted it to be a surprise for his birthday."
"Oh, okay, for a minute I thought that Kenny might have been behind this."
"Nope, Kenny's in Torino."
Okay, now that made even less sense than finding four girls on my doorstep looking for Gary. "Huh?"
"Yeah, someone saw him wandering around with the bicycle helmet on his head and he was drafted into the Olympics. Or something like that." Kira waved her hands as if she couldn't be bothered with such details.
"I think he's on the luge team," Kathy filled in. "Anyway, if you'll just give us directions to Gary's, we'll be outta your hair."
"But why the red shirts? And the Vulcan ears? And Brownie sashes?"
"Oh, the red shirts because of that saying, you know, 'Don't beam down wearing a red shirt' or something like that."
"And being young girls you always do the opposite of what you're told," I finished for her.
"Pretty much."
"And the Vulcan ears?"
"We're not Vulcans, we're Romulans," Nyota said with a look of disgust. "And you write Trek fanfic?"
I stuck a hand in her face and ignored her.
"Romulan ears because of that discussion Gary started on ASSD. The one about the ROM code. We figured he must really be into Romulans so we got these ears at a Paramount Liquidation Sale on Rodeo Drive."
"Hey, I'm not Romulan, remember?" the blonde protested. She smiled and fluffed up her hair. "I'm half-Romulan, half-Vulcan."
Right. I bet blondes all over the world were standing up and clapping with pride.
"Okay, now the Brownie sashes."
"We're Brownies."
"I thought that Russ and Jack and Kenny and Ball Four and the rest of the writers were doing the Girl Scout thing, not Brownies." I scrunched up my nose in confusion. "Unless I read the stories wrong."
"Nah, we're Brownies all right," Kira answered. "Jack said it only made sense to send Brownies since Gary loves chocolate."
I was amazed she could say that with a straight face. It was also clear I couldn't send them on to Gary's house. Why would Gary want young girls for his birthday? Especially as young as these girls were. I still remembered what happened when those cheerleaders showed up one year. I couldn't let that happen again.
"How old are y'all?"
"Eight."
"Eight."
"Eight and a half."
"Twelve." Janice tossed back her hair. "I got held back a couple of years."
Kathy rolled her eyes. Didn't she know she was supposed to dot them? What are they teaching kids nowadays in English class?
"Just ignore Janice. Anyway, so are you going to tell us how to get to Gary's house or not? We answered all your questions."
"Well..." I stalled, trying to think of something. "I'm not sure it's such a good idea for y'all to be traveling by yourself. I mean, four girls and all..."
"Oh it's okay, we're not alone," Kathy assured me. She gestured to a car idling at the curb. I hadn't noticed it before, my attention being held by the drama playing out on my front porch. Now I noticed the car and the driver: a woman with long blonde hair done into braids who appeared to be wearing a leather police uniform. Ah. Office Sherry. I knew I'd better get rid of the girls before she came to the door.
"Um, okay, let me get Gary's address." I grabbed my address book off the coffee table and started thumbing through it.
"By the way," Kira asked, "do you have a thesaurus?"
I heard mad scrambling from my husband above, and then a muffled shout, "I've got one! I've got one!"
"Don't even think about it!" I hollered back before he could get halfway down the stairs. I heard the dejected thunk-thunk as he stomped back up. My eyes fell on an address. I picked them up and put them back in, looking at the address they'd fallen on. Perfect!
"Okay, girls here it is. Gary lives in Washington. I"ll write his address down for you."
"Hey, that's cool!" The blonde jumped up and down. "I've always wanted to see the White House!" The other three just sighed. "Thanks," Kathy said as she took the piece of paper from me.
"Don't mention it!" I told her.
They waved as they headed back to the car and Officer Sherry.
"No, seriously," I called after them, "please don't mention it!"
I shut the door wondering how likely it was that they'd tell the next person who'd given them his address? I hoped Denny would have a good sense of humor that day!
© Souvie 2006
