Monday, October 15, 2007

Taking The 'Hands-On' Approach A Leeetle Bit Too Far

Hi, come on in! I'm about to start up Infidel Story Hour. So why don't you grab yourself a food storage bean bag chair.....NO, not that one! That one has the last of our potato pearls in it and I don't want the buttery perfection ruined by tainted butt. Come take this one with the dry bean soup mix stuffed inside. Dry bean soup mix is the main reason we fear a sudden apocalyptic attack-don't nobody wants to eat that to survive. Today I'm reaching way back into the annals of Infidel Family History to bring you a rousing story of Familial Traditions.......
My once flame-haired and eternally flame-tempered maternal grandmother was once a runner-up in the Miss Indiana pageant. I think she had high hopes for my mother following in her footsteps as she entered her in several beauty contests where my mom relied on her years of classical piano training to carry her through the talent portion of the competition. Dreams were dashed during one contest, though when stage fright set in and she lost her place while playing 'Maria' from West Side Story. My poor beleaguered mom just kept nervously pounding out the same chorus over and over again........"Maria, Maria, Maria, I know a girl named Maria" until one of the judges mercifully stepped in to put her out of her misery. I guess being tall and skinny with blond hair and blue eyes will only take you so far in a pageant.

Like pack animals using an innate sixth sense to sniff out weakness, my two uncles knew that this calamitous event really bothered my mom. So, they laid in wait for the perfect opportunity to torture her.......

And then, as the whole family sat in the living room, gathered around the television set watching an episode of Alfred Hitchcock Presents, my mom's brothers realized they just struck gold! The shows theme revolved around a pianist who gets his hands chopped off for some reason and every night his severed hands come back to haunt and terrorize him. It freaked my mom out completely as nightmares tormented her slumber for weeks following.

Always ones to capitalize on the misfortune of their older sister, my uncles set their dastardly plan into motion by filling up a pair of latex cleaning gloves with water and freezing it. That night, they crept into my mom's darkened bedroom and placed the frozen gloves on either side of her head--counting on the fact that she's a notoriously light sleeper.

The terror-filled shrieks filled the house as she woke up thrashing about and fighting with the ice-cold, disembodied hands. My uncles, still hovering outside her door, collapsed in laughter.

This prank became a favorite for my uncles and a yearly Halloween tradition. My poor mom still gets the shakes when she hears any songs about hands. The Beatles 'I Wanna Hold Your Hand?' No. Forget about it. I feel sorry for any boys who ever tried to get 'handsy' with her. But at least she doesn't run screaming from the room when people mention the Hands Across America event anymore. That's progress. Just don't ever make any sudden "Jazz Hand" movements towards her, and you'll get along with my mom just fine.

*This is my entry into Wynne's Literary Mutations Halloween Contest!*

30 comments:

aubrey said...

jazz hands!!

aubrey said...

i've never been first on your blog, elastic. wow.

aubrey said...

or second for that matter. and third now too. if i write fast enough. your mom's brothers sound exactly like MY mom's brothers. even though she was the older sister they would torture her nonstop with mean pranks. this one is so sad, though. your poor mom! and a potato pearl beanbag, what a lovely, useful idea for those crappy potato pearls.

on.the.run said...

I've got to HAND it to you, that was a pretty funny story. If I ever need an idea for a prank, that will come in HANDY! (yes I know, I know.)

Bee said...

If not for the fact that your mom is older than I am I would have thought her brothers were my brothers!
I say for Halloween we torment our brothers!
Well for those of you who don't have any brothers maybe you can borrow a pair...

wynne said...

Hmm. I think bee's on to something there...

I've got five if anyone is short a brother to torture. I'll share.

(Great, elastic! Soon you'll know...)

elasticwaistbandlady said...

I wasn't all that happy with the way this post turned out. I guess I have a hard time punching up and making someone else's story funny.

elasticwaistbandlady said...

Aubrey's NUMBER ONE! Aubrey's NUMBER ONE!

Tori :) said...

Oh dear... I think your uncles may be related to my husband. That SO sounds like something Sei would do.

Diesel said...

That's so freaking messed up, and yet hilarious. My rule is that a joke has to be at least twice as funny as it is mean, and that one is right on the line.

aubrey said...

i'm NUMBER ONE, hey! i'm NUMBER ONE, hey!

Johnna said...

wow, what a story! I'm gonna tell my kids to freak them out.

Your throwaways are priceless. No one wants the end of the world to come if it means eating the dry bean soup.

jams o donnell said...

Civilisation has broken down and all there is left to eat is your stock of dried bean soup. Surely the living will envy the dead!

Your uncles got your mum good. It would have been good to be a fly on the wall when she woke up!

Lisa said...

I've never experienced brother torture and neither will my girls. However, their dad bugs them enough that they feel like they have a brother.

Funny story!

Nancy Face said...

I guess I'm a meanie...I thought the whole thing was completely hilarious! Story Hour has never been this much fun...thanks for the laughs! :D

Our dry bean soup mix took a one way trip to the dump long ago.

Stacey said...

On one hand I feel bad for your poor mom...on the other hand,I'm laughing my head off.

Jean Knee said...

Oh, my. your poor mom

now I am intrigued by the dried bean soup mix. It isn't tasty and delicious? I always see crafty homemakers layering it up in bell jars and giving it out like a treat. wait, maybe it's really a trick
disturbing..

wynne said...

Email me, elastic.

muskadillo at hotmail
yadayadayada.

Melissa said...

That's exactly why I loved being the oldest. I stuck plastic spiders in my sister's flute case one time... yeah... I got into a lot of trouble for that one since she CRIED for an HOUR!

Bee said...

Clicks across America, Part One.

VE said...

I was an only child; it didn't have quite the same effect doing it to myself...

Annie said...

Evil brothers, latex gloves, and a beauty queen. That's a wynning combination, if I must say so.

Tamra Norton said...

Your poor mother!

Hey, Elastic, come over to theinkladies.blogspot.com and play "Ten Totally Snoggable Literary Characters" with me! Is Edward or Jacob on your list?

compulsive writer said...

I think we should all give your mom a hand.

Elizabeth-W said...

Your uncles are long lost relatives of my dad. I swear it.

compulsive writer said...

...and when did Annie become a pirate?

Or is that piratess?

Special K ~Toni said...

I have to hand it to you, I am so glad I don't have brothers! Although that was pretty darn smart of them!

Thoroughly Mormon Millie said...

This prank reminds me of the "frozen Kool-Aid hands in the Halloween Punch" trick, which I still want to try someday.

I hope you win. :)

Lauren said...

I would rather die in a deadly meteor catastrophe than eat Potato Pearls again.

That practical joke is AMAZING!

Geosomin said...

Ah. Childhood freak outs...
My friend Corey was scared of werewolves. The song "Clap for the Wolfman" was a constant source of terror for him...he thought it was a radio bulletin warning people the Wolfman was coming and to clap to warn others. He honestly thought the lyrics were:

"clap for the wolfman
he's gonna eat your leather hide
clap for the wolfman
or he'll dig at you until you die."

Me? Watched The Fog when I was 4.
Lemme say that'll give you the fear of fog and zombies until oh...at last week...