Sunday, July 4

It's a period piece. I'm wearing a tuxedo with a top hat and a cane (the tuxedo has coattails), and Mr. Happy Puppet Head is wearing a hoop skirt and a frilly bonnet.

"I dare say," I say in a terrible mock-English accent. "I dare say 'tis quite a beautiful day. As are yourself."

"Ooooh!" says Mr. Happy Puppet Head in a high-pitched girl voice. He flutters his long eye lashes. "You're so dashing. Kill my husband. He called me strumpet and I need you to redeem my honor that has been so rudely besmirched."

"I will do this request."

A cool dude rides up on a silver Vespa and parks next to us. He has a really cool mustache and tight clothes and a bowler hat.

"Sir," I say to him. "I dare say 'tis my duty to slay your head."

"What's that?"

"I'll slay your head."

"Whatever, man." He takes off his bowler hat and walks off stage.

"Oh, thank you so much, kind sir!" cries Mr. Happy Puppet Head. "Now we will have lots of children to clean the coal stoves and work in the textile mill!"

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