Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2266300-Blame-it-on-Your-Muse-Award-Banquet
Rated: ASR · Article · Activity · #2266300
This was written for the 5 Day Blog Challenge at Andre The Blog Monkey's Banana Bar.
Blame it on my Muse a 5 DAY Blog Challenge

"Where in the world did you find a green tuxedo?!?" I was aghast at Grumpy's attire. It wasn't just green; it was really, No, Really green. Shimmery satin lapels, with a matching stripe down the seam of his short little pants, only added to its greenness.

"I found this beauty in the haberdashery yesterday while you and that spendthrift bunny were picking up another mouth to feed." Grumpy did a little spin to show me that his tux had tails. "A real cutie that one, though, so we'll let it stay."

Just as I was about to ask him where the others were, A Guavé Tortuga and Anon-y-Monkey walked in. Anony looked splendid in his well-fitted traditional tux, and he even chose to wear patent leather shoes, polished to a mirrory gloss. A Guavé, on the other hand, was in his Lil' Lime Squeeze, rock star outfit.

"Really, A Guavé, that's what you're wearing to the Blame it on Your Muse Awards?" I was a little disappointed. A Guavé usually had more class.

"Oy Guv. mi'buddy Andre asked me ta do a set with the band tonight. Strumming an air guitar. "So, I'm dressed to fit the bill."

"Wonderful." I muttered, "so where's Pubby? Why are we always waiting on that bunny?"

Anon-Y-Monkey answered. "He said he'd meet us at Andre's." Tilting his head to one side and shrugging. "Something about buying roses and chocolates." Grinning. "And, this being the time for his famous moves."

I got some spray bottles out of the frig.


I herded them into the dugout for the short trip across the lagoon, and thankfully it was a quick trip because Grumpy immediately complained of seasickness. Seem's like he could get seasick looking at a glass of water.

We walked towards Andre's, chatting about what to name the new muse, which was still very much up in the air. Lo and behold, there was Pubby nervously pacing up and down in front of the door. He was mumbling to himself, rehearsing several different pickup lines. "So what's a Beautiful Muse like you doing with an author like this?" He tried another out. "I bet we could write some great stories together!"

I was tempted to spray him, but he already looked pitiful enough.

We left him and went inside; Lilli ☕️ 🧿 had done a great job. The place almost didn't look like Andre's. Tables were all lined up into one long table. Muses and authors were mingling in a little alcove set up as a cocktail area. There was a banana daiquiri fountain and all sorts of little finger foods to choose from. More people were arriving, though Andre wasn't there yet. The piggies in blankets were particularly yummy. The little Jack Russel terrier I shared mine with agreed with me. Brother Nature was checking his watch, a bit nervous, expecting Andre to make an auspicious entrance any minute.

Lilli announced that dinner would be served shortly and asked us to take our seats. There was a bit of tension amongst some of the Muses. Sha-Sha was stirring up some trouble within their midst. I didn't think that would end well, at least not for the authors, but my little fellas were immune to her shenanigans, except for Pubby. I could still see him pacing outside. Grumpy had brought a glass of liquid courage, which he sipped through a straw. Every sip made his ears twitch.

I felt guilty about the spray bottle, a little guilty, well, not really guilty.

We found seats, and dinner started. There were several courses, each one more delicious than the first. Much of the meal was Island-based cuisine: rich tropical fruits, fish. Though Lilli had thoughtfully prepared a steak for me, she remembered my seafood allergies. Grumpy was overjoyed at the sight of his corned beef and cabbage feast, which included multiple versions of potatoes.

The deserts were a sight to behold, a table on wheels pulled by a team of yapping chihuahuas carrying every imaginable pastry, pudding, cookie, and cake. I mentioned to Lillie that I was surprised there were no Banana Cream Pies. She looked at me like I was insane. "Banana Cream Pies?" Her voice raised above the band that was tuning up on stage. "With this crowd?" She smiled knowingly. "I'd look for Banana Creams in March, though."

Things seemed to be going swimmingly, though Sha-Sha seemed to be egging some of the other Muses on to some type of mischief. We were still waiting for Andre. Where could he be?

The sound of an approaching propeller attracted us all to the glassless windows. Sure enough, a blimp was approaching. The sky filled with billows of dark smoke and white steam. The blimp slowed and hovered over us. A rope tossed over the side landed at my feet. The skipper yelled down at me. "Tie us off, lad."

I tied the best knot I could around a stout palm tree. As soon as the line was secure, Andre slid down it, followed by the blimps skipper, Blimprider. He took one look at the knot I tied and said, "Your quite the lubber, I see."

Now that Andre was here, the festivities kicked into high gear. Vodka Virtuals replaced the daiquiri fountain, Sha-Sha continued her campaign, and several trips were made to the basement.

The rest of the evening's events are best gleaned from various law enforcement reports, news clippings, and the log of the blimp.

Excerpted From "I'm Only the Trombone Player"
© Copyright 2022 Richard's Harvest Begins! (brennus at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2266300-Blame-it-on-Your-Muse-Award-Banquet