*ring, ring ... ring, ring*
Clark answered it.
"That's right ... you've reached The Unbelievables."
I don't know where Jeff was. I was cleaning up after our little Friday night escapade - the three of us had a grand old time doing tequila lime jello shots and beer while playing Hand & Foot. Left over beer cans and a mess of cards were still strewn across the table. I only caught the last part of Clark's conversation on this end of the phone: "... yeah ... we're here. I just need to round up Jeff then you can call back ..."
Curious, I stopped cleaning and went into the other room. "What's up?" I asked.
"Where's Jeff? Some guy is going to call back and he wants us all to be present so he can run his spiel ..." I got Jeff.
We were all sipping coffee when the phone rang once again. Clark answered once more, then engaged the speakerphone. "Hokay ... what's up buddy?"
This is the image of Pumpkin Spice
that came up on our Unbelieva-phone when he called ...
"The world famous Unbelievables! Greetings, Suave Ones. I am The Diabolical Pumpkin Spice, the silent sixth member of The Spice Girls turned evil and diabolical! And I'm here to wreck havoc nation-wide on the public's obsession with my namesake, that delectable tang pumpkin spice! As proof I have already irradicated it from your local Stiletto Flats Starbucks coffee shop and I intend to spread outward from there, blanketing the entire free world in pumpkin spicelessness! Insert evil laugh: *mwuh-haa-haaah ... MWUH-HAAAAAA-HAAAAAAH ... MWUH-HAAAAAA-HAAAAAA-HAAAAAA-HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH ... !!!"
Jeff waited until the evil laughter had died down then began asking questions.
"You're the silent sixth member of The Spice Girls? We've never head of you before ...":
"That's because I'm the silent member! Were you not listening?!?"
"... and ... your voice is clearly masculine, in complete contradiction to who The Spice Girls are ..."
"That's of little consequence!" Pumpkin Spice declared harshly. "You three have bigger things to worry about than me! Already the public outcry rises in the streets ... and soon the lamentation of the people shall be heard throughout the land when pumpkin spice is gone! Gone! No more pumpkin bread! No more pumpkin lattes! Pumpkin chocolate chip cookies will be but a memory! Pumpkin pie ... kaput! Gone forever, to be enjoyed never more ... !!!" He hung up.
"What a loon!" Clark cried.
"Certifiable!" Jeff joined in.
I wasn't so certain.
I called the Stiletto Flats Starbucks. Sure enough, there wasn't an ounce of pumpkin spice to be found in the store.
"You know ... this dude may be on to something" I offered. "America's infatuation with pumpkin spice is pretty well known. Maybe we should let this guy have at it and see what happens ..."
Clark and Jeff looked at me as if my hair was on fire.
"What? No ... really. Think about it: That crap's like legal crack for a lot of folks. I mean ... I like pumpkin right alongside most folks but I'm not a freak about the stuff. Forcing them to go cold turkey might wake them the hell up and put them on the right thinking track for a change. And *snort* the dude's going to vanquish the flavor completely? Come on ... that would be a neat trick. Personally, I think he's a harmless wack-job. Still, this might be just the wake up call The Pumpkin Brigade (or whatever they call themselves) needs to get their lives in order and realize the world is about more than the desire for their favorite fall beverage ..."
"But ... pumpkin pie ..." Clark said, a little too sadly. And he might have been right about at least that.
"Let's just cautiously approach this and see what shakes out" I tried to reason. "How bad could it turn out to be?"
How bad indeed?
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