Stunt-ed

Sally’s back home.

I know those three little words probably don’t fill you with trepidation (real word).

I can only say this . . .

You’ve never lived with her.

For six weeks, whilst the world’s newest stunt double was filming her first movie, her fond and adoring family basked in the quiet peacefulness that was Life Without Sally.

Okay, yes, it was a bit boring.

But a whole lot relaxing.

I think Mom actually gained some much-needed weight.

I know that, for the first time, ever, I could actually see the floor in Sally’s room.

Did any of you know the rug in her room was pink?

I didn’t.

Moving on . . .

All of that ended when a brass band, 140 marching soldiers and 10-car police escort announced Sally’s return.

That and the city-wide lock-down.

Okay, there wasn’t really a brass band.

A few less than 140 soldiers.

And I didn’t really count the police cars.

But the lock-down happened.

Nearly.

Maybe I should explain . . .

There were actually . . . fans . . . waiting to welcome Sally off the plane when she arrived. Kids and a sprinkling of adults waving posters featuring Sally (well, Sally’s body with the head of the actress Sally was doubling) swinging on a rope, with a pump-action shotgun on a strap over her shoulder and fairly plump chicken clutched in her arms while the world behind her exploded into chaos.

Huh. Now that I think about it, Mom and I could probably have taken that same picture at least once a day for the past sixteen years. . .

Just a thought.

Back to Sally’s homecoming . . .

Mom and I waited until she had finished with her adoring fans. Then the three of us made our way outside and toward the bus, already filled to capacity with a sprinkling of commuters and 41 Japanese tourists.

Sally, not particularly silent at the best of times, was spilling over with NEWS.

Which I could probably distill into one word: stupendous.

She bubbled on about the cast. The shoot. The location. The director. The stunts. The daring feats she managed to pull off. The looks on the faces of everyone watching whenever she undertook those same feats.

I could totally sympathize with them.

Ahem . . .

The three of us managed to find seats—Mom and I jammed into the back and Sally somewhere on the aisle in the middle—and Sally continued to talk. She began to pull things from her capacious carry-on. Props. Curios. The actual chicken from the poster. (Like Sally, a stand-in.)

Then, just as the bus was crossing Aldersyde and Croft, kind of the geographic center of our town, Sally pulled out a rocket-launcher and waved it in the air so we could appreciate.

You can see where this is going . . .

Mom and I, both used to Sally and her ways, got a start when we saw what she was waving.

Now just imagine the scores of people, many of whom didn’t even speak English, looking on from a position of complete ignorance.

The panic was instant and notable.

As the bus-driver jammed on the brakes, people started screaming and heading for the nearest exits. By the quickest way possible.

Doors and/or windows proved mere suggestions as they burst outward and were discarded.

I should probably mention that the panic did not end when they all gained the streets and sidewalks.

Nope.

From there, they scattered through the city screaming ‘Terrorists! Terrorists!”, in at least three languages that I could pinpoint, and at the top of their supposedly-relaxed tourist-y lungs.

I’m pretty sure you can imagine the rest.

The sirens. The pretty-much-instant police response.

The barricades.

The soldiers.

In the time it took Mom and I to get over our initial shock and, with the still-talking Sally in tow, make our way from the bus, it was surrounded and the city on the brink of a lock-down. (See above.)

Then the explanations.

And the lectures.

With the distinct possibility of fines and/or community service.

Dear Lord help us all.

Welcome home, Sally.

We missed you.

Sigh.

Each month, Karen’s (she of the Baking in a Tornado fame) followers contribute words to the collective.

Words which are then re-distributed to said collective.

Use Your Words is the result.

Resistance is futile.

This month, my words: pump ~ plump ~ post ~ poster ~ part

Were assigned to me by the Great Karen herself! Thank you so much, my friend!

And Sally thanks you, too…  

Now go forth and visit the others!

Baking In A Tornado

Spatulas on Parade

Sarah Nolan
Part Time Working Hockey Mom