The sun breaks on the Caribbean Sea in many golden reflections, spreading the taste of salt in the air and giving the people of Mont of Groovia a colourful summer with markets and music.
The unmistakable smell of spices on the stalls, the splash of water after a dip, the laughter of the people filling the air, nothing seems to disturb the serenity of this August.
Until the time came for the government of the President Daniel Kramp to organize Father’s Day…
BIG HOUSE – PRESIDENTIAL APARTMENT – MORNING.
“Did you see, honey, what a beautiful day?” asks the First Lady.
“Yes, yes, so great…” replies Super Dan as he’s struggling with the knot of his tie.
“It’s a pity we can’t go to the beach like we used to…”
“Yeah, with all the commitments we have now…”
“And then imagine, by the sea surrounded by security men? No, those days are gone now. Now is the time of duty. By the way, what is today?”
“What is… what?” asks the surprised President.
“Your duty, dear…”
“Duty?…what duty…?” stammers more and more interdicted her husband.
“Your job, I’m talking about your duty as President. What do you have planned today?”
“Ah…the job! Sure, sure. I’m just on my way to the Eagle Room meeting to discuss a party.”
“Party”? Which one?”
“Um…the party…of…a party…uh, that we’re gonna have to throw.”
“I understand, sweetheart, you don’t know anything this time either…”
“What? Are you kidding me? I love parties!”
“I know that, but do you even know what we celebrate every year in August?”
Quiet, embarrassed Super Dan could choke on his tie knot.
“Father’s Day, teddy Bear, all father’s Day.”
“Of course, I was going to say, Father’s Day…”
“Father’s Day falls on the third Sunday in August, a month after our American cousins’.”
“I knew it, of course, I’m the President!”
“Sure. Now go on, teddy bear, and try not to overdo it as usual…”
“Exaggerate? What do you mean?”
“Beers and sausages, dear, beers and sausages…”
“Who? Me? But when on earth… uh, the sole purpose of the meeting is to extol family values.”
“Of course, honey, of course.” she kisses him on the cheek. “And among your family values, barbecue comes first. Have a nice day.”
EAGLE ROOM – MORNING.
“Well, gentlemen, we are gathered here to plan Father’s Day.” Blanco begins.
“Great!” cheers Super Dan.
“I’m in!” agrees General Byjove.
“I had no doubt about it…” says Moore.
“Certainly… in the sense that this is an important holiday for our country.” the President replies.
“And not only that. It has also become a true tradition for all countries around the world,” Bell adds.
“That’s right.” Blanco continues. “This year, however, we wanted to change something, add something new.”
“Yes, distinguish us from previous administrations. I mean, the parades, the music, the fireworks…”
“They’re fine!” jumps Byjove. “The fireworks are very good!”
“…I was saying, the parades, the mayors’ speeches, the picnics and barbecues…”
“Great! Perfect, I’d say!” exclaims Super Dan.
“Just as I was telling…” sighs Moore.
“Ultimately, we want to renew this celebration without upsetting its roots.”
“Roots?” mumbles Byjove.
“Sure. For example, we could examine how other countries around the world celebrate this anniversary and take a cue.” Wright suggests.
“Roots? Cue? But what happened to the fireworks?” grumbles the general.
“Great idea.” Bell intervenes. “In France, for example, children bring their fathers a red rose…”
“Bell,” slams Byjove, “that’s all I could expect from you! It’s Father’s Day, the man’s Day, the head of the family! A red rose… shame on you.”
“Uh…and in England the party almost takes on the connotations of a lovers’ party, with chocolates, flowers and sweets.”
“Chocolates and sweets?!” the military replies, “Bell! What are you, a man or a pastry chef?”
“Easy, General,” Wright says, “we’re just trying to examine the various traditions in the world. For example, in South America, bonfires are lit in all the cities and fathers challenge each other to overcome them with a single leap.”
“At last!” cheers Byjove. “A real man’s test! Bell, you will perform the jump on behalf of the government.”
“What?!?” startles Bell.
“Roses and chocolates! Shame on you,” continues Byjove. Bell starts looking for the inhaler in his jacket.
“General,” Blanco intervenes, “calm down, there are many countries and many customs to which we can inspire. For example, in Canada there are those who prefer to spend their Sundays outdoors, going fishing on the shores of Ontario, others play golf and others go for a picnic on the lawn.
“Approved, put on record!” Super Dan comes in. “It seems to me a fair thought to all fathers!”
“I agree!” Byjove says. “Such a deep feeling must be worthily celebrated!”
“That’s right!” follows Super Dan.
“And what would you have in mind, pray tell?” question Moore:
“Well,” answers the President, “Blanco just said, a healthy day out, going fishing…
“Or playing golf…” Byjove says.
“Or picnicking on a nice lawn!” concludes Super Dan.
“Bingo!” exclaims Moore.
“Bingo?” mumbles Byjove.
“Yes,” continues Moore, “a very deep feeling, I see…”
“You can say it loud and clear!” Super Dan bursts out with his big, tight jaw. “Deep and sincere.”
“But shall we throw a bingo too?” stammers Byjove still banned.
“As deep as your soul, Mr. President…” comments Moore.
“But wouldn’t a target shooting competition be more appropriate for a male figure?” Byjove advises.
“Honest as your heart…” continues Moore.
“Like a nice picnic with grilled sausages and beer at will!”
“That’s right!” answers the President.
“Perfect!” cries Byjove. “Now you’re talking, Moore.”
“Uh…no, I mean…” stutters embarrassed Super Dan, “family picnics, it’s…it’s a very old tradition…”
“And traditions must be respected, right, general?” asks Moore acid.
“Absolutely, woe betide breaking them! I’ll take the beer. Who’s thinking about sausages?”
“Gentlemen,” Bell tries to intervene, “excuse me, but…”
“You’re not excused.” Byjove nipped it in the bud. “Then for the sausages…”
“But, General, the spirit of Father’s Day is another…” Bell needlessly insists.
Byjove, drawing his saber, “Bell, I’ll make a spirit out of you now…”
The saber this time ends up on Wright’s nose, who brings his hands to his face and starts bleeding.
“Missed!” almost rejoices Bell.
“General, have you gone mad? You hit Wright!”
“What? I missed the earthworm?!”
“Bell! Don’t kid yourself! I still have the saber in my hand!”
“Wright, take these,” says Bell pulling swabs and meds out of his briefcase, “they’re effective, I have experience in this field.”
“Congratulations Bell,” yells the general, “I see you’ve organized. Louis no longer brings you medicine, now you bring a pharmacy with you…”
Knock on the door, Louis comes in with a tray.
“Mr. Bell, it’s time for your pills.”
“Thank you Louis, you’re always precious.”
“Famous last words…” whispers Moore.
“Sir, is there anything I can do for you?” the chief usher addresses Wright with concern.
“Yes, bring me a new nose…”
“A few more swabs,” Bell asks, “just in case, Louis. Ah, a few Band-Aids, just in case, a couple of bandages and… did I forget something?”
“Yes. A new backbone.” comments Byjove.
“All right, I’ll get right on it, sir.” says Louis on the way out. “For the backbone, I’m afraid that will be a problem, general.”
“It was a joke! Louis, don’t involve yourself in this! It wasn’t enough with the shellfish and his walking pharmacy, it took the Wright’s nose and your medicine tray!”
“Swabs, give me more swabs…” begs Wright in pain.
“Bell, take all the swabs you got and shove them in his mouth, so you can stop it!” the soldier yells. “Rather, shall we resume the discussion on this blessed celebration?”
“Just a moment.” Blanco takes the word. “Wright, how are you?”
“I’m still alive…” mutters Wright.
“All right, but after this meeting you need to go to the infirmary. Bell, do you need anything else for our Wright?”
“Yes, a shovel.” Byjove comes in. “Dig a hole and dive in.”
“General!” raise her voice Blanco.
“But in short,” yells the soldier, “shall we resume this discussion about the party?”
“All right, but keep that saber where it belongs.” Blanco replies. “Where were we?”
“Beer and sausages!” reply Super Dan and Byjove together.
“Here are the true values of family…” smiles Moore.
“Rather,” she tries to take matters into her hands Blanco, “weren’t we examining the various traditions in the world?”
“True.” Moore intervenes decisively. “For example, did you know that in Germany, fathers are put on wagons pulled by oxen or other men, and driven through the streets of the city? And also these wagons are full of traditional food and alcoholic beverages.”
“Great, I second the motion!” cheers Byjove.
“Write it down in the minutes! Approved!” Super Dan joins in.
“Actually, there is no motion yet…” says Moore. “Also forget that, should you decide to adopt this custom, surely the First Lady and Ms Brontoserious would be on one of the wagons…”
“I mean,” Byjove replies irritated, “is it Father’s Day or Mother’s Day? What the hell do women have to do with it?”
“Well, actually,” Bell points out, “you two don’t really have much to do with it either, since you don’t have kids…”
“Bell,” the general says, “why don’t you put your inhaler in your mouth instead of opening it wrong?”
“And by the way, I’m the father of the nation,” says Super Dan raising his jaw, “the father of all citizens…”
“Right! The father of the nation!” Byjove supports him.
“Poor children…” Moore thinks out loud.
“And the general is the father of all the soldiers in the country!” the President replies.
“That’s right!” Byjove continues. “No one has more right to celebrate than the two of us!”
“About the parents, we’re in a really bad situation…” Moore mumbles.
“Yes I understand, as institutional figures,” tries to mediate Blanco, “I don’t doubt that you two…”
“Perfect. Blanco agrees too.” interrupts Super Dan.
“What? No, I was gonna say…”
“That the President and I are the parents of the people. We know, Blanco, we know…” Byjove concludes.
“Hurray for the orphanages…” concludes Moore.
“Rather, a fundamental point has yet to be decided…” says the President thoughtfully.
“I really haven’t finished speaking yet…” Blanco tries in vain to be heard.
“What point?” asks Byjove. “The fireworks?”
“Not really…” says Super Dan.
“Mr. President,” says Wright with his nose plugged up, “I think Blanco was trying to say…”
“A few cannon shots to liven up the party?” the general suggests.
“Not exactly…” mumbles the President.
“A couple of missiles instead of fireworks?” Moore mocks.
“Great Moore! By a thousand bayonets, what an idea. You are a true patriot…”
“Missiles? Again?” sighs Bell. “Oh, God, where’s the inhaler?”
Byjove hands him his saber.
“I feel sick!” he says as he plugs his nose and starts bleeding.
“General,” Blanco says, “what are you doing? You know Bell is delicate…”
“Delicate? A tapir is delicate.”
“Sorry,” interrupts Super Dan, “my point…”
“That’s right,” asks Byjove, “the point is, how many missiles do we fire?”
“Shall we shoot?” jumps Bell.
“No, wait a minute,” tries to speak Super Dan, “the point was another…”
“Has anyone seen Bell’s inhaler?” Wright asks by holding his nose.
“Mr. President,” insists Moore, “then how many missiles do you want to fire?”
“Missiles”? No, wait a minute, the point was…”
“I can’t breathe, do something…” Bell begs.
“Take him down.” Byjove suggests.
“General!” Blanco scolds him.
“My point!” continues Super Dan.
“His point,” asks Moore aloud, “has anyone seen his point?”
“The President missed the point?!” stammers Wright with a puffy nose.
“I didn’t miss anything! I just wanted to understand…”
“Understand?” says Moore.”Eh, this is really hard…”
“Where’s my inhaler?” Bell says.
“Maybe with the President’s point?” Moore suggests ironic .
“The inhaler with the point?!” Wright exclaims surprised. “Sorry, I’m a little confused…”
“Don’t worry, kid, I gonna clear your head.” Byjove responds promptly. “So, how many missiles are we firing on Father’s Day?”
“But the point was another…” Super Dan tries desperately to explain.
“But I mean,” Blanco gets impatient, “will somebody please tell me where this point came from?”
Louis knocks on the door and comes in, bringing Bell the inhaler on a tray.
“Oh, God, finally…”
“Just in time, Louis, I was about to put him down,” Byjove says.
“General, what are you saying?” Blanco takes him back.
“General, calm down.” Wright comes in. “The point is…”
“The point! My point! There it is…” exclaims Super Dan.
“His point!” stings Moore. “So you got his point?”
“What?” Byjove says. “Who dared to take the President’s point?” drawing his saber, this time hitting Bell’s nose, in pain and panic, with one hand grabbing the inhaler and swabs with the other.
“General!” cries Blanco. “What are you gonna do, take us all down one by one?”
“If I don’t find out who stole the President’s point, I’m going to burn the whole building down, is that clear?”
“Are you out of your mind?” mumbles Bell with his inhaler and swabs. “Someone wants to explain to him that the point…”
“He’s gone! I totally get it. But who the hell took it, you know?”
“That was the point!” yells Super Dan to overwhelm everyone’s voices, making his toupee move to one side. “Will the wagons be towed by men or by cows?”
Sudden silence descends. Not a tremor, not a movement, even the swabs in Wright and Bell’s noses have stopped bleeding.
Only a voice breaks the silence.
“Better cows.” That’s general Byjove’s voice.
“What? …and why?” Blanco asks.”What’s the difference?”
“Because after the party, we can turn the cows into many steaks to grill.”
“General!” Wright says. “You can’t be serious!”
“Congratulations Byjove!” compliments Super Dan. “Great idea!”
“Here are the fathers of the nation…” says Moore lashing.
“Well, it’s decided: wagons, oxen and barbecue for all!” exclaims Super Dan.
“No! Never that!” Blanco says out loud.
“The vows.” Knowing she can’t appeal to the common sense of the two, Blanco plays hard to get. “You’d lose a lot of votes and your popularity would drop to a minimum. No one would re-elect you president for a second term.”
“Oh no?” comes down to earth Super Dan.
“No. That would be the end of your political careers.”
For the second time silence dominates the room.
“I think it’s time to continue with the examination of traditions in the world.” breaks the silence Moore.
“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” Bell’s trying to express through swabs in his nose and his inhaler.
“Did you know that in Russia this party is associated with the celebration for “Defenders of the Fatherland” and the political aspect is in the first place?”
“Great! That’s how it’s done!” exclaims Byjove.
“General, actually Bell said in Russia…” Wright explains.
“What?!? In Russia?”
“And yes, so it seems…”
“The Bolsheviks”? I didn’t make them so patriotic…”
“Instead” Moore intervenes, “in the United States of America of our friend Donald Trump in schools they direct the children’s activities towards tasks that put the figure of the father at the center of the lessons.”
“Sacrosanct! I approve!” rejoices Byjove. “The children of all schools will have to do a good essay on the President! I like it!”
“General,” says Blanco, “maybe you misunderstood, children usually write an essay about their daddy…”
“Indeed, the President, the father of the nation!”
“Thank you, General, too good.”
“Duty, Mr. President!”
“I get it, maybe it’s better to move on and look at other countries.” Blanco tries to change the subject, supported by Moore who takes the initiative.
“Did you know that in Thailand, for example, fathers are celebrated on December 5th, the birthday of King Rama IX, who died a few years ago and by all the people considered the “father of the country”? Think that he reigned for over 70 years. On that day, children bring grandparents and father a cane flower as a sign of respect.”
“Yes, I understand them.” comments Byjove to himself. “Cannabis blossom, like in the good old days of Vietnam, I can’t forget… how many of those flowers went around in the trenches. I confess, these Thais are not bad for Chinks…”
“General,” wheezing Bell with the little breath left in him, “but what are you saying? You want to include those flowers on Father’s Day?”
“Absolutely! Is mimosa the symbol of Women’s Day? Then I propose that the Cannabis flower becomes the symbol of Father’s Day!”
“Uh, general, what would the reporters say?” Wright’s trying to reason with him.
“That we are people who know how to have fun! Listen to the program: beer, sausages, a few grilled oxen, a couple of missiles and Cannabis flowers to round off.”
“Outstanding! A hell of a party! I second that, on the record!” cheers Super Dan.
“Do you guys realize what you’re planning?” begs Wright with a nose full of swabs.
“The greatest party of all time!” says Super Dan.
“Forget Woodstock! This is gonna be a party!” the President says.
“Woodstock?!” stammers Wright.
“I can see it already,” continues the President on the edge of excitement, “parades, music, picnics…”
“…the army parade, the fireworks, the flight of the Air Force aerobatic patrol…” Byjove says.
“…the barbecues, the beer, the oxen on the grill…” continues ecstatic Super Dan.
“…the missiles, the parade of tanks, Cannabis flowers for everyone…” continues the general.
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing…” Blanco stammers speechlessly.
“No more delays!” exclaims the big boss. “Let’s put this year’s news on the record… Pic-nic doubled…”
“…the parade of oxen-drawn carts…” Byjove continues.
“…and the wagons must be full of food and drink…” recalls the President.
“…and the oxen on the grill after the parade…” adds the general.
“Of course! And the barbecues…”
“Barbecue for all, my President! I’ll slice those oxen with my saber, don’t worry!”
“Slice up the oxen”? Are you crazy?” mumbles Bell.
“Bell, shove your inhaler down your throat and go back to your grave!”
“Then I’m counting on you, general, for the oxen and the barbecue!”
“At your orders, Mr. President! And let’s not forget the fireworks, they’re my specialty!”
“They’re all yours, general! Did we forget something?”
“Yes, the Great Flood…” says Moore.
“The Flood?!?” pants Wright. “Why, is it going to rain that day?”
“Wright, don’t talk nonsense! You want to compete with Bell?” Byjove says.
“No, I don’t want the flood, I don’t like the flood,” Super Dan comes in, “it would ruin the barbecues. Take that off the record!”
“It’s not possible…” Whisper Blanco in amazement.
“Gentlemen,” tries Moore in vain to restore order, “I would like to remind you…”
“The Cannabis flowers!” Byjove bursts. “Great Moore! That’s what we had to remember: the Cannabis flowers!”
“There, so now the party’s really complete…” Moore murmurs desolately.
“You’re right! Cannabis flowers for everyone! General, can you handle it?” Super Dan asks.
“Don’t worry, my commander, I’ll take care of it!”
“That’s what I was afraid of…” Bell complains between swabs and inhaler.
“Bell, you party pooper! Quiet! The motion’s passed!” the general shuts him down.
“Well said. On the record!” Super Dan’s pushing it.
“I’m speechless…” Whispers Blanco’s frustrated.
“Blanco, woman of little faith,” insists the President, “you will see the greatest event in the history of this country…”
“Yes. The Big One.” Moore murmurs.
The First Lady comes in without knocking.
“Good morning, teddy bear.”
“Good morning, how are you?” Moore asks promptly.
“How are you?”
“Yes, thank you Moore, it’s a beautiful day: the sun, a clear sky, an inviting sea, what more could you want?”
“I don’t know,” Byjove says, “maybe continue the discussion?”
“Oh, go ahead, don’t mind me…”
“Honey,” stammers embarrassed Super Dan, “did you know we had to discuss Father’s Day…”
“Of course,” says Moore, “and you think the kids in all the schools will write a essay about your husband…”
“My husband? What does my teddy bear have to do with Father’s Day?”
“Good question…” says Moore mocking. “What’s it got to do with you, Mr. President?”
“What do you mean?” slams Byjove. “The President is the father of this country!”
“So you’re the mother of the whole nation?” Moore asks smiling. “Congratulations, I didn’t know you’d become a mummy!”
“Neither do I! When did I become a mom?!”
“Today.” Moore says. “And of millions of children…you love big families, tell the truth…”
“Millions of children?!”
“But no, dear,” tries to explain Super Dan, “is that in the United States of America our friend Donald Trump in the school children do homework on their dads and …”
“And so from this year,” Byjove bursts in, “all the children of this country will write a beautiful essay about our beloved President!”
“Millions of themes?!?” replies the First Lady in awe. “Teddy bear, we have no children…”
“Details!” comments Byjove. “Your husband is the dad of the country, so like all good dads…”
“…he’ll have to provide for his family’s groceries.” Moore intervenes with sarcasm. “Our President will pay for all Father’s Day food and drink!”
“Really?!” exclaims Byjove surprised. “I knew it, a real commander doesn’t back down from anything!”
“What?!?” exclaims Super Dan. “What the hell are you…”
“Our President is too modest to receive the honours he deserves,” insists Moore with a sneer, “as a true leader he is, general?”
“Absolutely!” snaps on Byjove.
“No, wait a minute, wait…” stammers lost Super Dan.
“Of course,” Blanco intervenes to support the Chief of Cabinet, “we all know the modesty and generosity of our President, don’t we, general?”
“Gee, our President has all the qualities of a true leader!” Byjove says.
At that moment, secretary Naive comes in with some accounts of the previous year’s party.
“Oh, Miss Naive, good morning.” Moore immediately takes advantage of her presence. “Are you aware that our beloved President has offered to pay all the expenses for Father’s Day?”
“What? Really?” exclaims the young lady.
“Of course,” insists the Brit, “how can you stop such a unselfish soul, after all?”
“A true leader’s heart, I might add…” comments Byjove.
“Such a generous nature…” Joins in mocking Blanco.
“But… I… really…” stammers Super Dan.
“Oh, Mr. President,” exclaims Naive, “I knew deep down you were a good soul.”
“Under the armor of a warrior,” exclaims Byjove, “there is a big heart…”
“…and under the toupee,” adds Moore, “an even bigger head!”
“What? Moore, I…” Super Dan hints at a reaction.
“Teddy bear,” says the first lady, “I’m proud of you! Father’s Day celebrates family values. Even your colleague Donald Trump couldn’t have done better.”
“Of course…uh…I…on the other hand…” mumbles Super Dan now trapped.
“And you should hear the rest…” continues Moore. “The wagons, the oxen, the barbecues… General, would you explain to the First Lady what you and the President are preparing?”
“Of course!” jumps ready Byjove.
“No, General,” tries to stop Super Dan, fearing his wife’s reaction, “it’s no good…”
“Madam,” Byjove hits the ground running, “know that we are preparing the greatest party of all time!”
“Really?” says Gwendoline, intrigued. “explain to me, tell me everything…”
“Yes, madam. First parades, music and picnics doubled!”
“I didn’t doubt it…” whispers the First Lady resigned.
“The flight of the Air Force aerobatic patrol. And afterwards the fathers will climb into oxen-drawn carts and drive through the streets of the city.”
“That’s not the end of it, is it, Mr. President?” Moore’s stinging him.
“Actually, I…” tries in vain to stop Super Dan.
“By a thousand bayonets! No, it ain’t over! These wagons will be full of food and drink…”
“Well, that doesn’t surprise me…” says Gwendoline.
“And after the parade, I’ll slice up the oxen with my saber for barbecues.”
“What?” cries Naive.
“Slice…?” echoes the First Lady.
“Not to mention the fireworks, your speciality, isn’t it, general?” continues Moore.
“For a thousand cannons! I’ll take care of those! And to finish them all off, Cannabis flowers for everyone!”
“I understand,” concludes Gwendoline, “Ms Brontenserious and I will take part in the party.”
“What?” exclaims Super Dan. “But no, dear, you mustn’t tire yourself out. It’s going to be a long, busy day.”
“But yes!” Moore intervenes. “The President and his wife together! On the same wagon: the symbol of family. A nice public image, don’t you think?”
“Family values, of course…” Bell can whisper.
“Moore, one of these days I’m going to…” says Super Dan, staring off at the Brit.
“…I thank you for that wonderful idea, don’t I, Teddy Bear?” concludes the First Lady.
Louis knocks on the door and walks in with bandages, patches, swabs and a spare inhaler.
“Here we go again,” slams Byjove, “the pharmacy delivery service has arrived.”
“Mr. Bell,” says Louis calmly, “here’s everything you asked me. If you want anything else, you have only to ask.”
“Yes,” slams Byjove, “a bed in the intensive care unit.”
“General,” Wright speaks in half a voice, “I remind you that Bell and I are in this condition because of your saber.”
“This saber has faced more enemies than a platoon of Marines!” the soldier boldly replies.
Knock on the door, quietly enters Ms Brontenserious.
“And we haven’t seen anything yet, have we, General?” stings Moore. “I bet Father’s Day will be at its best, won’t it?”
“You can count on it, for a thousand bazookas!As soon as the parade on the wagons is over, you’ll see how I slice up those oxen for the barbecue!”
As soon as the parade on the wagons is over, you’ll see how I’ll slice up those oxen for the barbecue!”
“No!” cries Naive. “General, how can you think of killing poor, defenseless cows?”
“Teddy bear,” says the First Lady, “if I see one of those poor animals slaughtered for your barbecue, I’ll lock you in the gym to train with Ms Brontenserious for a month!”
“Jawohl!” swish! The Austrian housekeeper’s whip snaps on time a few inches from the unsuspecting Super Dan’s ass, jumping on the chair.
” Goddamn Kraut,” says Super Dan, “One of these days I’ll…”
“My commander,” proclaims Byjove, “do you want me to pierce her with my saber?”
“General!” exclaims the First Lady, “don’t you dare touch my housekeeper!”
Swish! This time, the whip hits Byjove’s buttocks, who splashes backwards on his armchair, spreading his arms and hitting Bell’s nose again.
“General!” Blanco reprimands him. “What are you doing? Do you want to decimate the government today?”
“My ass,” complains Byjove, “damn Nazi, one of these days I’ll show you how…”
“How to organize the parade of oxen-drawn carts and fireworks,” Moore promptly intervenes, “right, general?”
“Absolutely!” tries to get Byjove back, spurred on by the right argument. “The wagons will be full of every good thing…”
“And beer, General,” continues Moore, “don’t forget the beer…”
“Moore, the wagons must be big enough to carry barrels of beer, beer of all colors!”
“Is this Father’s Day or Oktoberfest?” Bell wonders perplexed, nose stuffed with swabs.
“Bell,” says the general, “I remind you there are no two without three, my saber is always ready!”
“General,” Blanco tries in vain to calm things down, “calm down and let’s get something done today…”
“That’s right.” the battered Wright comes in. “To resume the previous interrupted speech, did you know that in Australia on the first Sunday of September fathers enjoy discounts and offers in many stores?”
“Awesome!” exclaims Gwendoline. “After the party we’re going shopping, teddy bear!”
“What?” Super Dan’s squinting. “Wright, what are you babbling about?”
“Great Wright, a great idea!” Moore quickly intervenes “Minutes: after the party discounts for dads in stores!”
“No, wait a minute…” trying to stand up to Super Dan.
“I agree,” Blanco says, “would be a help to the dealers. I guess we can start setting party guidelines…”
“Right Blanco,” Super Dan intervenes, “well said. Then for the wagons we all agree…”
“…pulled by strong, well-fed oxen, of course…” Byjove adds.
“…and with us on board, of course…” continues Super Dan.
“…and with all the delights of local cuisine…” replied the general.
“…and after barbecue for all…” sighs the President.
“…and picnics, let’s not forget them, traditions must be respected…” says Byjove.
“…Mr. President, those are my specialty, don’t doubt…”
“…and in conclusion: Cannabis flowers for everyone!” exclaims Super Dan.
“Ay Dios mio…” whispers Blanco.
“I don’t think that’s an appropriate program for a daddy…” Bell tries in vain to reason with them.
“Bell,” Byjove says, “the only thing fit for you is the morgue!”
Bell’s nose is bleeding again.
“Wait a minute, nobody move!” exclaims Byjove.
“What’s going on now?” complains Wright.
Silence reigns supreme in the hall…
“Beer! We forgot the beer!” exclaims Byjove.
“On record!” cries Super Dan. “Beer barrels on all wagons!”
“And some barrels by the barbecues, too.” Byjove adds. “You never know, better to abound!”
“Approved! On the record!” cries Super Dan excited. “It’s gonna be a memorable party!
“Good luck to us…” murmurs Moore.
To be continued…
See you next week. Ending theme!