Goose, Goose—Elaine Bonow

Goose, Goose

“What the hell is a goose anyway? I mean Thanksgiving is suppose to be turkey, turkey, turkey.”

“Me too, I thought you were suppose to have a Christmas goose not a thanksgiving Goose. Where would the stuffing go, and what about mashed potatoes and goose? That just doesn’t compute.”

“I’ve had duck before but really, tell me, how is a duck different from a goose. I know a duck lives on a lake, right. Does a goose ever go in the water or just waddle around in the barnyard?”

“I don’t know what the hell a goose is either. Did you actually eat any?”

“Are you kidding me? I tasted it and pretended to eat it. It was too heavy. The smell and the texture were too savage even for me. As you know, I’m a fried chicken kinda guy. That thing made me think of feathers and skin and beaks and feet.” Rich sat down on the couch and put his socked feet up on the coffee table.

Annette joined him on the couch. “I know right. I don’t even eat meat and she knew that but put some on my plate anyway. I hate it when people think you are a vegetarian but make exceptions on Thanksgiving.”

“You ate the other stuff didn’t you?”

“I had to. You know they have that silly dog. Well, I just dropped the duck in my lap on my napkin and then pushed it to the floor. I kept that dog busy. I bet it’s throwing up all over that house right now.” They laughed over that disgusting thought.

“I had a hard time because it was so gamey, and so dark. A goose is all dark meat. Plus it was so greasy. I sure wouldn’t make a good Frenchman. They had the fois gras for appetizers too. It was gross. You’re so lucky you could avoid that.”

“Look at all of these goose references. Says here people have been eating goose, excuse me geese for centuries but the Christmas goose was a Dickensian invention.”

“I know, I know, let’s play a game. You’re still awake and antsy aren’t you?”

“Sure, I’m always game. What are you thinking of.”

“A drinking stripping game of course, don’t I always come up with great games that involve acting like a sex starved teenager?”

“Well since it is just you and me, sounds like hella fun. I’m definitely not stripping around a bunch of strangers or friends for that matter especially after eating all of that food.”

“Perfect, let me see. Let’s use these Google goose references. I know, I know, Charades. We’ll play goose Charades.”

“Ok, I get it. We’ll write down twelve goose references and pull them out of a hat and act them out.”

“And to make it get very interesting each time we pick a card we both take a shot of vodka, so we can be evenly drunk. It’s no fun to be drunk by yourself.”

“Are you insinuating that one of us will be better at this game than the other?”

“No, that’s not it. I just think the game will be more fun if both of us get fucked up together. That’s all I mean. Although one of us might be more naked that the other.” Rich reached over and goosed Annette and kissed her as she squirmed away laughing at his antics. “But, I propose a strict time limit and whoever guesses correctly has to tell the other person what they have to take off.”

“Fine,” she said reluctantly escaping from his arms. “That’s fine with me. I’ll get the liquid goose and a couple of glasses of ice.”

“And twist us some lemon peel, ok honey?” Rich got up and gathered pen and paper from the desk drawer and got one of his fedoras from the closet. He returned to the sofa opened the laptop. He carefully folded and then tore two pieces of paper into half and then into quarters.

Annette returned from the kitchen putting the ice filled glasses topped by jaunty lemon twists on the coffee table. “Let the games begin.” she said sitting down next to Rich.”

“Let’s pick out twelve geese references.”

“Wait. This is not going to work because both of us will already know what’s written on the paper.”

“You’re right it wouldn’t really be a game with just you and me.”

“I have a great idea,” Annette said as she handed Rich a drink. “Let’s bring this to our writers group, minus the stripping of course.”

“Yes! And we could up the ante. Instead of a physical charade Let’s have everyone make up a story prompt using the goose reference they pick out of the hat.”

“Give everyone a time limit too. What about one minute to come up with a good prompt.”

“I think that’s fair. Plus we’ll bring the Grey Goose and make drinks for everyone.”

“Ok, we’d better write the cards up tonight. Cheers darling. You’re so clever.”

“You’re not an intellectual slouch yourself.” Rich said as he goosed Annette who goosed him back.

 

Advertisements

About bbcstudiowrites

This blog is me archiving the BBC Studio Writers Workshop.

Posted on December 8, 2015, in Fiction, Seattle, Short Stories and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: