"For the love of god, whose idea was it to let Maureen have the espresso? Who?" Collins threw his hands in the air. Mimi giggled and Roger rolled his eyes. Angel elbowed him, not quite managing to conceal her own smile. Mark and Joanne didn't respond. They were getting Maureen off the telephone pole.
"C'mon, baby, the pole is just a pole! Let go of it!"
"No! No no no no no! It needs me! Go away!" Maureen clambered up the wooden pillar, the muscles below her left eye twitching. Mark tentatively tried to pull at her foot. She shrieked and shimmied higher, finally perching near the wires at the top. Swinging her legs, she started to hum what sounded like a combination of Clementine and Beethoven's 5th.
"Baby, has this happened before?" Angel asked, putting her hands on Collins's arm. He grinned and rolled his eyes.
"No, because no one in their right minds would let Maureen have anything other than decaf. Only an idiot would even suggest it, Roger," he said, eyeing the musician. Roger shrugged.
"Hey, I was bored. It's better than watching TV in a store window, anyway."
"Maureen, sweetie, get down from the pole! You could get hurt!" Joanne hollered. Maureen looked down at her, eye muscles still twitching.
"Did Picasso get hurt climbing poles? Did Madame Curie get hurt climbing poles? Did Big Bird get hurt climbing poles? Huh?"
"Honey, none of them ever climbed poles!"
"That's all you know!"
"Ok, I give up." Joanne threw up her hands in defeat. "Someone else's turn now."
"Hey Maureen, we'll moo for you if you come down!" Roger called up, sending Mimi into a fit of giggles. Maureen only sneezed and started trying to touch her nose with her tongue.
"Girl, just get down here! I'm freezing!" Angel zipped up her coat a little more, and Collins put his arm around her.
"Why? It's toasty warm! Ooh, like toast! Toast is good! Toast is my friend!" Maureen was getting hysterical now. Mimi and Roger were laughing so hard they had to lean on each other to keep from falling. Joanne was banging her head against another pole, and Mark was filming. Collins and Angel were staring up at Maureen, huddling close together for warmth.
"Pigeons! Ooh, they're so fluffy! And pigeony!" Maureen stared as if hypnotized at three pigeons balancing on one of the telephone wires. Moving like she had springs instead of bones, Maureen got up and began tightrope walking towards the pigeons. Mimi screamed, and Collins yelled, "Ok girl, that's far enough!"
"No! Come back!" Maureen cried as the pigeons, startled by her sudden weight on the wire, took flight. She lunged after them and wobbled, losing her balance. Suddenly, in slow motion, she slipped off the wire.
"OH MY GOD!" Angel shouted. Joanne, Mark, and Collins ran towards Maureen, but it was too late. She plummeted to earth, landing with a thump. Or rather, she didn't quite reach the earth. Instead, she fell to Roger. Actually, on Roger.
"OOF! OH FUCKING GOD, MY BACK!" Roger wailed from underneath Maureen. Collins and Mark took her arms and dragged her up, leaving a crumpled, rather flat Roger on the ground. Mimi and Angel ran and knelt beside him, trying to help him up.
"Wow! That was awesome! But the pigeons got away, and—oh look, feet!" Maureen sat down and started curling herself into a human pretzel, trying to tuck her feet into her ears.
"Shut up, Maureen…" Roger groaned as Angel slipped his arm over her shoulders and hauled him to his feet. Bent over in pain, he leaned against Collins, who had gone under his other arm. Mimi hovered around him, worriedly checking him over. Mark grabbed his camera from Maureen and, trying not to laugh, shoved it in Roger's face.
"Mr. Davis, how does it feel to be flattened by a 106-pound woman falling from a telephone pole?"
"Go and die, Cohen," growled Roger. Angel gently pushed Mark away.
"Take pity on him, honey, he's had a bad day."
"It was good until Maureen decided to sky-dive!" Roger moaned and sank onto the bench Collins and Angel had brought him to. Mimi sat beside him, rubbing his shoulders. Meanwhile, Joanne was struggling to unhook Maureen's left foot from behind her right shoulder.
"So Roger, is this more fun than watching TV in a store window?" Collins asked innocently.
"Go to hell," Roger said. Mimi patted his hair and kept rubbing, while Collins sat down next to Roger and grinned smugly. Angel sat herself in Collins's lap, and Mark was still filming, muttering something that sounded like, "wimp" under his breath. Joanne, sweating from the exertion, hauled the twisted (in many ways) Maureen over to the group.
"Help! Help! My peanut butter is getting away! Help!" Maureen struggled to unknot her limbs, but it was impossible. She strained forward, desperate to catch some imaginary renegade peanut butter.
"Maureen, shut up," said everyone simultaneously. And from then on, Maureen was never allowed to have anything other than severe decaf again.
The End