"Good morning, Mr. Happy Puppet Head," I say. "Time to get up."
"Go away," he says, burrowing deeper into his pillow.
"Come on, we have to film that Educati-FUN video." I shake his bed with my knee.
"It's still dark..."
I look out the window over his bed and realize that it is still dark, at nine in the morning. The sun should have risen around 7:30 or so. Huh.
Me and Mr. Happy Puppet Head go outside and stand on our front lawn, watching the clear star-filled sky, waiting. It's cold and a slight breeze ruffles my cape. The streetlamps are on a timer and turn off when the sun is supposed to come up. The only source of light is the half-sliver of moon hanging above us.
We watch as cars cruise slowly up and down the street, their headlights revealing confused-looking children with their parents sitting on their front porches and lawns, waiting, just like us.
"What do you think's happening?" I ask Mr. Happy Puppet Head.
"Nuclear winter," he says matter-of-factly. "Or some sort of modern-day apocalypse."
"You don't believe in apocalypse."
"I don't believe in lots of stuff," he says as he takes a couple of gulps from his hip flask.
So now we can't shoot the episode we had planned because the busses aren't running and it's too dark to film. I'm also worried about this whole missing-sun thing. It was going to be so great, too, tentatively titled "Mating is Good." Me and Mr. Happy Puppet Head came up with all sorts of ideas, shown here scribbled hastily on several napkins.
The purple is berry pie. It was messy, but delicious.
Hopefully the sun will show up, making our day delicious like that berry pie. And messy like a slovenly fat teenager, full of angst over her parents refusal to buy her a car in which to go to the beach with her other slovenly fat teenage friends. But if she'd just clean her room sometimes, they'd buy her the car. Just like the sun.
No, it isn't just you, that last joke felt very forced.