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Chip Morton's Journal

Skin Deep 3

Well, today’s the big day and the noise has been incredible. First I had to endure singing, dancing, and even a few really bad comedy routines to determine the finalists in that category for later tonight. My ears will never be the same again after being squawked or shrilled  to death. Not that a few of them can’t sing. Some can pretty darn well and are probably hoping for some Hollywood talent scout in the audience later.

Breakfast earlier was okay, but what with Angie and Lola demeaning the whole pageant thing while the Admiral and I had tried to enjoy the pancakes and waffles, it boded to become  a miserable day. I knew I should have refused the whole thing. But then there would have been Lee to contend with and I did promise.

And so here  I was hoping, praying, for the last of this batch of talent to get over with so I could jot down my score and finally go get some unaccompanied lunch. 

“Chip?” Angie waylaid me as the small group of officials filed out of the auditorium, “you don’t have time for lunch, you have to go get the things on this list.”

Hemorrhoid ointment? Oh, I, uh, yeah, sure.”

“It’s not for me, idiot!”

Idiot? Angie never called me idiot, despite the many times I’d felt like one in her presence. To her I was usually Commander. In her better moods, Chip. Yes, I was still in deep doo doo for talking her into this pageant.

 “It’s to reduce puffiness in the eyes!” she corrected my assumption.” The contestants are kind of stuck here and they’re completely out of it.”

“Don’t forget the WD 40!” Lola called out.

This time I didn’t ask.

“Right, Hemorrhoid ointment and WD 40, anything else?”

“Well,” Angie thought, “ some duct tape and a couple of bags of nipple pads wouldn’t  hurt.”

“Uh huh…um…” I didn’t exactly ask but my inquirining mind still wanted to know.

 “Oh for Pete’s sake,” Angie said, “I’ll do it! Lola, you take over…shouldn’t be a problem having just one of us during lunch. “

I’d rather do it,” Lola said, “I’d like to go check on Lee.”

‘Like you really care’, I muttered.

Bad move.

Lola looked a bit like a yellow panther  ready to pounce and tear me to shreds.

That, Commander, is none of your business,” she said coolly.

“Okay, you go ahead Lola,” Angie said, “he’s supposed to be with the Admiral on the golf course. By the way, Morton, did you know that Kowalski had to dash into the men’s room after the last performance? The one with the hula dance contortionist? Maybe he’s sick.”

Frankly, I hadn’t noticed as the girl’s routine hadn’t exactly been the norm for a hula. Let’s just say she rather reminded one of a pretzel as she twisted and contorted herself into various positions and still managed the rhythmic swaying. 

Ski had been positioned in the wings on stage to make sure the right contestant number went with the right  girl. In minutes I found him, moaning in distress, leaning against the wall, clinging to the clipboard for dear life. At least he wasn’t hunched over one of the toilets.

“Ski? You okay?” I asked,  “it’s lunchtime. The officials are hosting a buffet , remember. All the girls will be there.”

“I’d rather not sir.”

“It’s not like you to turn down any looking at pretty girls.”

“Yeah, but so many of them… I…er….”he flushed and held the clipboard tighter. It was then I noticed just where he was holding it.

“Oh,” I managed, for once at a loss at what to say. I mean, things like this do happen. Sometimes a guy just can’t help getting aroused at the sight of a voluptuous and/or pretty girl. But it’s damned embarrassing when it happens without you telling it to.

I patted him on the shoulder and left him alone, and headed to the buffet.

It wasn’t the kind of buffet I expected. I suppose they figured the girls would prefer to munch on carrots and salad and that was pretty much what was offered.  What I wouldn’t give for some mac and cheese. Oh well.

I managed to see Angie in betwixt some of the contestants, but instead of a scowl on her face, she actually seemed to be smiling, laughing, and enjoying herself.

Will wonders never cease.

But I still don’t know what the WD-40 is for.