DoDo Deca












“Oright, you ready? One- Two- Three- BLOW!”
And on Mike’s whistle Linda and Sammy blew. They blew hard and fast and before long Sammy’s face started to turn blue itself! So she stopped blowing and her bubble deflated onto her nose. Linda, not one to give up on any competition- even after winning- continued to blow into her purple wad of hubba bubba until it popped and sprung away from itself, becoming a sticky mask on her face.
“Mwinnerrrr!” Linda cheered herself on through the gummy mess.
“Oright, onto the next competition,” Mike was good at keeping things moving. “Chug a glass of bubbly while hanging upside down on the back of the couch. Preparation time begins Now!”

“Mikey, where’d you put my champers?” Sammy asked, peeling apple flavoured bubble gum off her chin.
“Ay- I can’t help, I’m the referee,” Mike was very professional. “Bee- It’s Passion Pop- that’s $4 bubbly wine, not champagne. Champagne is from Germany.”
“Mike, how’d you get to be so intelli-hanté my big hunk-a spunk?” Linda was constantly impressed by Mike. That’s why they’d been getting on regularly since Christmas.
At this point the girls were in the fourth round of a special eight event decatholon of overall-everyday prowess which they competed in every Saturday afternoon. This competition “Deca to the Death” always kept them guessing, they never had any idea whatsoever what Mike would have them doing next. Last week it was mud wrestling, the week before they had gone gnoming in the eighth round. It was always a very exciting competition which came down to the wire.
Strangely enough, in this story, “wire” is a pertinent word to be using at many intervals. If the story order was reversed, in fact, it might have been written: “which came down to the wire- no pun intended.”
In the 7th round the girls had to run around the block with their underwire bras on the outside of their shirts. Linda fell over in the final downhill sprint and Sammy got through in a prancing blaze of glory, setting herself up with 4 wins against 3 heading into the final round.
Now, this is where Mike liked to make things interesting:
“Bonus points round ladies! Listen up- this’ll test you. You must both enter the skate park across the road from the corner shop, where you will have purchased a large bag of Barbecue Samboy’s. Find a boy in the park with braces. Full, wire-to-wire metal gear. You must tell him you’re competing in a competition for a lot of money and you need him to eat a handful of chips and whistle the full Home and Away theme song. The winner, ladies, will be the individual who returns to me with the most flecks of chip on her face. Double points for older food particles. Look alive ladies. There is glory on the line.”
With stoic determination inspired by afore mentioned-and-chugged Passion Pop, the ladies thought of nothing but that blaze of glory as they took their position at the starting line, clutching coin for chips.
As they ran into the small takeaway shop they heard nothing but the blare of the trumpets of victory and as their small, girly faces were washed in the rains of chip-speckled spittle they felt the warmth of hero worship.
But as they stood before Mike to have their collections collated there was something new washing over their senses. It was sense. And shame. It spiralled down upon both girls simultaneously and they turned to face each other with identical reflections.
Then they took Mike’s ears, one girl to each ear. And they twisted. And it hurt. And they declared themselves equal winners and they walked away. And that was their most clever day.

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