Day Two—The Book of Land O’ Lakes

Around 9:45am, I was roused from my deep sleep on Tits’ couch by the melodious crooning of a mechanical dancing Christmas Penguin (I couldn’t make this stuff up). This, of course, was not nearly enough to take me away from sleeping, but the promise of a delicious breakfast at a local diner was. After a couple intelligent members took showers (present company excluded, unfortunately), we piled into the cars and headed into town. When we arrived, we realized we weren’t the only ones who feed before noon, and the wait time was simply too much for our distended bellies to take. This being the case, we turned the cars around and hit up Bob Evans’ for some French Toast, Waffles, and camping stories from Bubbles, which gave an entirely new definition to the term “roughing it”.

Having completed our feeding frenzy, we made our way toward the highly anticipated Scallywag Tag, anxious about the quality of this laser tag facility. We bought our games in style, serenading our lovely cashier with TTYD. It was good enough for a flashing smile, but apparently not good enough for a discount. After entering the debriefing room and staring down the few 8 year old girls huddled in a corner, we all spread out along the wall to help Tori, our Laser Tag Wench, more effectively flirt with the entire group. After selecting our teams in the manner befitting a recess Kickball game (i.e. Me and My Gang v. everyone else), the guys in green pitted their wits against an onslaught of enough elementary school children to fulfill Michael Jackson’s Christmas List. What began as uncertainty leaning in favor of the young ‘uns quickly transformed into complete annihilation by F15. While it was a collaborative victory, we can all agree that we owe it to our One Eyed Jack……umm………hmmm…….

We immerged victorious and sweaty, or at least this buttery fellow did. Soon after, five openings for another game were offered to us, allowing a few to play again and the rest to grab some much-needed White Castle. As will soon become a recurring phenomenon, the White Castle shown on Bubble’s GPS did not actually exist. We settled for option #2, DQ, for a chilidog and some ice cream. On the ride there, Gameboy rejected our opinion regarding the saucy minx Tori, claiming she was only being friendly rather than flirtatious. Gameboy was immediately pummeled by the collective arguments of L.O’L, Tornado and Bubbles as well as the belated opinion of Rocktapus. It was settled.

We returned to a new game of Scallywag Tag, assuming it would be yet another massacre. Our dreams were quickly shattered when only 10 prepubescent opponents challenged us, prompting a severance in the group. Tori selected Vahj? and I to disband our fellow comrades and join the forces of evil. This was a painful departure, but Vahj? and I accepted our circumstances and chose to rise above them.

Epic Fail.

Ever seen a bunch of kids sit in corners in laser tag? Yeah, me neither. Karate Kid disgraced Mr. Miyagi when one of my “teammates” (I prefer “laser tag acquaintances”. Don’t group me in with them) proceeded to physically beat Karate Kid with his weapon. This was complimented by another kid who, whenever shot, would scream, “I’M SO PISSED!”. However, the favorite moment went something like this:

Vahj?: *turns a corner*
Stupid Girl On Our Team: *begins firing*
Vahj?: “Don’t shoot! I’m on your team!”
S.G.O.O.T: *continues firing until she hits Vahj?*
Vahj: “Why did you shoot me? I’m on your team.”
S.G.O.O.T: *stone faced (or as Slutkin B. would add “with a face of stone”)* “….Oh. I didn’t know.”

So, yeah, we lost. But Freshman 15 won, so it was a victory for all of us. Moving on.

We made the trip to the freshly christened BOOYAH’s house to check grades and…wait for grades to actually be posted. Following a brief vocal warm-up and a short caroling rehearsal, we loaded the cars for our next gig. The set went smoothly with an interesting skit in the middle involving introductions. They apparently liked us, because they paid for our dinner. It was fairly unanimous to hit up Fat Burger, where the conversations over other skit ideas crashed and burned. Well, they didn’t actually get up into the air. They just sort of combusted on the runway. Once our food was devoured and our set list on the juke box had played, we made a dash to BOOYAH’s friends, the Mirkopoulis’(sp?), to get in some last minute caroling. We weren’t very well received, as made apparent by the fuming babysitter, an exuberant Weimaraner and one man who, mid-door closing, asked for no more songs. Oh well.

Anywho, we arrived back at BOOYAH’s, checked again for grades to be posted, and made plans for the next activity. A few of us wanted to go bowling, the others wanted to watch reruns of M.A.S.H. and play shuffle board while complaining about why their grandkids never visit them anymore. We decided that said party poopers would go drive to the Mirkopoulis’ residence and the rest of us would finish the night with a bang. Little did we know that BANG would be Woody’s bowling ball leaving his hands a bit early and flying behind him toward Vahj?’s ankles (is that the possessive form of “Vahj?”?). After a couple games, a series of "cock blocks" and a very impressive clutch play by Vahj? (4 strikes in a row), we headed back to the BOOYAH abode to get some shut-eye, but not after a thoughtful discussion between Gameboy, Snapz, Woody BOOYAH and I. Eventually, I grabbed a couch and tried to get some sleep. I wasn’t getting any help from Bubble’s constant texting, but eh. He’s my brother. We’re there for each other. We look out for one another. We're family.




……ZzzzZZzzzzzz……



—L.O’L