Saturday, May 1

I can't imagine a worse smell. Like garbage and vommit mixed in with some septic tank action. It's Mr. Happy Puppet Head's Magic Bucket. It's for a bit he's planning for the show tommorow, so he's putting it in the hallway by the door so he doesn't forget it. And now the entire house smells like his Magic Bucket.

Oh... I have to get out of the house.

"Hey, you wanna go get a drink?" I yell.


"It smells awful in here. You wanna go get a drink?"

"Okay, but can we take the Bucket?"


"You know. Show it off."

"But it smells awful," I say. "That's why I want to leave the house. Get away from the bucket."

"Yeah, but can we take it anyway?"

"I'd rather not."

"Yeah, but... can we take it anyway?"


So we take the bucket. It sits next to Mr. Happy Puppet Head in the booth. The waitress came and asked what we wanted, but it's been a long time and I don't think she's coming backwith what we asked for. I think the smell has stuck to me, too. I feel grimy and disgusting.

"You never told me what you're going to do with the bucket." At this point I'm holding a napkin over my nose. I feel lightheaded and dizzy.

"It's a surprise. It's gonna be so awesome... hot damn." He knocks the salt shaker over and licks up the white grains from the table top. "You'll love it, you'll see."

"I don't like it now."

"You just wait until tommorow."

This better be really good.

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