Invasion of the Bloggy Snatchers!

I'm getting in on this super duper late in the game. When Rebecca at Sonshine Thoughts first announced it I wanted to jump on board, but of course life got in the way and I looked at the calendar today and realized, OMG! It's Invasion of the Bloggy Snatchers day and I've got bubkis to post. So I'm pantsing this.

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"Road trip!" I hollered, jangling the Happy Acres van keys I stole from the nurse's station after sneaking into the coma ward and pushing the call button.

The sun shone through the windows of the common room, leaving a striped pattern on the floor from the bars that kept us safe. A techno beat thumped from the stereo.

"Come on, let's go you guys. We can go anywhere. See? I've got freedom right here, in the palm of my hand." I pumped my fist in the air, shaking the keys to emphasize my point.

"Leave me alone. I'm too edgy for the outside," Bill said, then added, "Zimbabwe."

He cringed as a matter of habit right before Claudine slapped him upside the head. He was well trained to expect the head-slap, but not well enough trained to keep his mouth shut.

"Courtney?" I asked, joining her at her computer where she was madly scheduling and adminstrating her group critique blog. And doing homework. And researching. And writing. And pulling her hair out in little tufts that drifted to the floor.

"Fine. But I'm bringing my laptop," she grunted.

I approached Mia in the corner. She was having another tea and hot dog party with her imaginary zombie friends. They all wore bow ties and flip flops. One sported a spiffy bowler hat. It's Happy Acres. We can all see each other's imaginary friends.

"Mia? Road trip?" I asked.

"ZOMG. I'm totes in! (this never happens)(where's my caffeine?!). All the zombies nodded their assent, as well.

Just then Tessa danced in from the hallway, making her customary entrance, trailing sparkles behind her. She stopped long enough to giggle and throw confetti on the zombie party, then fluttered to a red leather chair where Suzie sat rereading her tattered copy of Twilight yet again. I followed her.

"So, um, Tessa. Suzie. Wanna road trip?"

Tessa threw a handful of sparkly confetti. "Will there be cupcakes?"

"Can I bring my book?" Suzie asked, not looking up from her book.

"Yes and yes," I said. I'm a compulsive liar. I'm really bringing donuts.

One final stop on my tour of the room. "Your majesty?" I asked Simon (we all know he's really the king of Scotland, even though Scotland hasn't come around yet. There's an e-mail campaign going on as we speak).

He glanced up from his icy glass of vodka and his entourage of imaginary literary babes, deigning to acknowledge me. "Yes?"

I jingled the keys seductively. "Wanna go for a ride?"

"Would I ever," he said. The gaggle of babes giggled in unison at his innuendo. "But only if I control the radio."

"Fine." I rolled my eyes. That meant more symphonic metal. But it was a price worth paying.

"Shotgun!" Claudine called from across the room, loud enough for the nurse (who had returned to the nurse's station in a huff, embarrassed that she'd fallen for the call-button-in-a-room-full-of-coma-patients yet again) could hear her.

I quickly swung the keys behind my back and slapped on my innocent eyes, but she knew better and approached me with her fists on her broad hips.

"Hand them over, Margaret," she said and slid a wide open hand toward me.

"Damn," I said, and gave her the keys. I glared at her. She glared back. The silence was deafening (except for the techno). Her glare turned into a glower and I knew I was in trouble for sure.

"Um, can I have a donut?" I blinked, then gave her my best puppy dog eyes.

"Hmph," was all she said, then turned and marched back to the nurse's station. I shrugged and went to sit with Bill.

"Zimbabwe," he said.

"Indeed."