"I have no idea - this is the most fun I have had since Hank took us to see the Harlem Globetrotters play the Washington Generals. I could have sworn I went to high school with the point guard for the Generals but he might have just been my Jimmy John's delivery driver." Tina echoed off the mountain, emitting a pitch only recognized by people under twenty five or sports talk radio call screeners.
All of a sudden, Lois and Clare, the Lewis and Clark of mountain biking in central Washington, came to an abrupt stop on the side of a cliff of terrifying proportions. This cliff was more vociferous than Tina rooting for both teams at the Globetrotters game (she just wanted to see everyone have a good time and get to compete.) "Go Generals go!" She bellowed out in glee as she stabbed her oversized foam finger towards the rafters, vacant of any signs of Washington Generals banners. "Hook em Harlem!" She cried out in happiness as her husband averted his eyes towards a nearby popcorn vendor and did a shrug that implied embarrassment, confusion and toxicity.
Anyway, we come back from those brief commercial messages to rejoin our rugged heroes on the brink of a cliff larger than their imagination allowed them to comprehend. The only problem was, the brakes on Sandra's bike still needed a fine tuning, a fine tuning that she had forgotten about that week because of her newfangled obsession with cutting out pictures of 80s rock stars from every avenue she can find for her colorful scrapbook of 80s rock stars that she is calling, "A Foreigner's Journey to The Police Scorpions. AC/DC?"
On the side of the cliff Sandra found herself stranded, the cliff bigger than Cliff Burton's contribution to. "A Foreigner's Journey to The Police Scorpions. AC/DC?" She clasped on for her life to a jagged rock that jutted out a few feet over the edge, her Rolling Stone if T.J. Lavin will allow it. (Apparently she killed it with her clinging to the rock but he was extremely heartbroken and disappointed about my lack of follow through on that metaphor.)
"Oh no, oh no, oh no. This is not good, not today, not TODAY! Today of all days - this is the worst day that this could happen to me! Oh boy do I wish I could walk this one back." Sandra announced in a voice that was so calm it was spooky. She sounded like she was reading the evening news if they were reporting on the latest search for the most adorable kitten on YouTube led by Harry Felinescratchingpost, the first Native American viral beat reporter for the network.
"What do you want me to do? What can I do to help you right now?" Tina offered up in a charming manner.
"Pull me up. Save me from my foolish ways. Or you don't really have to. To be totally Frank (Zappa or Sinatra, chef's choice) I was too busy watching film of the contours of David Bowie's impish jawline and drawing it on my Etch A Sketch to realize that my brakes needed changing. This is all my fault. You might as well just let me fall to my glitter bombed demise just to teach me a lesson about The Facts of Life. You bet your tuchus that I threw a few sitcoms in the scrapbook too." Sandra said with a single tear Rushing down her face.
"No no no...No way. There is no way that I will let my friend take a dive for me. We're gonna live, baby, oh are we gonna live. I'ma take you to see The Grateful Dead on a reunion tour with John Mayer, sis. John Mayer is a unicorn in blue jeans compared to those 80s singers, honey. John Mayer is a fresh tube of toothpaste and you know I'm talking about Crest, toss that Colgate chowder out the sunroof. John Mayer is a walking, talking and singing seahorse, darling, don't let his Edward Scissorhands appearance deceive your heart's wont." Tina chimed out.
Tina was about to pull Sandra up from the edge of the cliff, she was just a moment away from hoisting her to safety when...Kerplunk! (1991 but still, points). Wham! A-Ha (Christian Bale's favorite band because of The Prestige and if you haven't seen The Prestige then you should lose sixty pounds for a role and get back to me.)
A UFO of a mountain biker, a flying saucer of a man came splaying into the frame. All three of the mountain bikers were sent caroming to their unfortunately timed expiry as their Glory Days came to a resounding halt.
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