I have started a band. We do drugs and occasionally some weird but beautiful music. The band is called Karen and the Babes. It constitutes of Karen, Matt, and Arthur. I am ‘Karen’, Matt and Arthur are ‘the Babes’ (I like to refer to them as ‘my babes’ every once in a while). They are ‘the Babes’ because I said so and I am always right even when I am not and nobody dares say otherwise or they will suffer my wrath on an epic scale.
On a beautiful afternoon, my handsome babes and I go to a restaurant. We have been performing all morning and are now quite hungry, tired and thirsty. I could swallow a whole horse by herself. You will not dispute this once you see how large my mouth opens when I yawn. It shocks me how large it gets and has shocked some of my girlfriends too. No wonder they just disappear without notice.
We get into the restaurant. Matt takes a little longer because he likes to play with the revolving door. The child in him always gets activated as soon he sees a revolving door. I am not enjoying this whole situation and I pull Matt by his ears to his seat. In case you have always been wondering why Matt has got one ear that looks long and sharp and shaped like a cone, a bit sharp and prickly, now you know the reason.
Matt seats down reluctantly and almost wants to start crying when the waiter shows up. Arthur looks quite delighted and starts doing his chicken dance. This is not his fault, his grandfather was part chicken and part human and even though he looks very much human, he still has got a bit of chicken DNA in him that shows up as soon as he sees a waiter in a restaurant or a chef. It gets worse if the waiter is carrying cooked chicken. Sometimes he even quacks and other times he thinks he is a cockerel and ends up chasing women thinking they are hens. Watching ‘Hells Kitchen’ with him is usually quite entertaining. He is very fit because of all the dancing. He never runs or goes to the gym. He just watches the Food Channel on television every day at 4 o’clock in the morning. Does his chicken dance for an hour and he will be good to go for the day.
The waiter walks up to our table and says, “Good afternoon inferior humans, The Master will see you now. Please follow me.”
For some reason, we felt compelled to do as the waiter said. Arthur was now chicken walking. He could not help it, the waiter was right in front of him. We went to the back of the restaurant, got into the lift. We went a few floors down and then stopped. The waiter punched in some pin number and the door opened with music playing in the background. It was like a fanfare. The lyrics to the song were a little disturbing though. I could hear a line that said: “It is time to eat the brains”, and something about monkeys stealing faces and taking over the human race.
We could be in a zombie layer. The zombies finally grew smart and found themselves a lair where they could train and get better at everything in preparation to invade the earth. I should be scared but I am not. All I want to do right now is meet The Master and see whether he is actually a real brain eating zombie so I can cross one thing off my bucket list.
“Welcome to my lair Karen and the Babes. I am delighted to meet you finally. I am a very big fan of yours. I have watched all your shows but unfortunately, I have never been able to attend a live show because, well, you will find that out in the next few seconds….”
He swings his chair around and faces us. Finally, The Master is here and…….. he is not a zombie. On the bright side, our brains will not be part of the menu. On the worse side, this could be much worse.
“Boom, ” he says while looking directly at us. Arthur, who by now had stopped dancing since the waiter had left as soon as he got us there, started laughing hysterically. Matt decided to join in on the laughing. “What the shit, what is wrong with you people!!!” I thought. I could not tell whether The Master was going to kill us for laughing or do something worse than death. Seriously, I could not tell, he had one eye which was on a nipple. He had a tit face. Just one tit standing erect on his face.
“As you can see, the wicked witch of the west turned me into this and said that in two thousand years, Karen and the Babes will sing a song that will rid me of this curse and I can finally attend one of your concerts live without looking like a monster. You are my redeemers. I have had your equipment sent here and some food will be brought for you to eat and then you will perform your hearts out until we find the song that relieves me of my curse. If I still look like this by the time you are done, you will all die a horrible death as nobody has ever seen my face and I would like it to stay that way as long as it is still a tit. Okay?” said The Master.
That started sounding a lot scarier than I thought but to stay alive, I would do anything. Self-preservation is a thing that I subscribe to.
They gave us some food to eat that was only made up of eggs from a pig and chicken hybrid. The eggs tasted like bacon to me. Poor Arthur, he was probably eating an ancestor of his.
As soon as we were done eating, we set up all our equipment and got ready to sing our hearts and lungs out and get into the moment and rid The Master of his tit face. This was the day, the day that would determine the rest of our lives.
Since the wicked witch of the west did not exactly tell which exact song to sing, we were to perform all our songs until we got to the one that broke the curse and made The Master what he once was – a handsome prince.
We started with ‘Coconuts’, then went to ‘Spider head’, then to ‘Little lip’, then to ‘Dimple on my butt’ and then the most amazing thing happened.
The tit on The Masters’ head disappeared and his face manifested after 2000 years of waiting patiently for Karen and the Babes. Who knew ‘Dimple on my butt’ would end up being a very important song.
“Oh my goodness, he was quite handsome.” I thought.
He then said,“Congratulations, You lot get to live. Thank you, Karen and the Babes. I appreciate this. I am not tit faced anymore. I am once again a handsome prince. Now, straight to business, Matt and Arthur, oh you lovely two people, I am going to punish you for laughing at my tit face. Don’t worry, the punishment will only last for 24 hours.”
Matt was turned into an ant-size person and sent into my left boob. “Sorry Karen, said The Master, Matt will reside in your boob for the next 24 hours. Everything will be fine unless you start lactating. Make sure not to lactate or Matt will get lost forever.” I could feel Matt walking around inside there. It was quite uncomfortable. Is he looking for milk!!
“And you Arthur, well, what shall I do with you? Mhhh …..let us see….”
Arthur was locked in a room with three chefs and two waiters for 36 hours. Poor Arthur, he was panting and heaving constantly he had to lie down for about 18 hours before he could feel better. Poor Arthur.