Cindy Jelly:
Have you ever thought about jelly? I mean really thought about jelly? Not just thought about making jelly or the sweet taste of jelly, but about the true essence of jelly? Have you ever tried to be jelly? A big bowl of thick, sweet, grape jelly.
"I can't do it!" Cindy shouted out.
Everyone in the room turned suddenly around to face her with appalled faces. There was a harmonious gasp from every single one of them.
"What my girl?" cried the director rushing across the room to stand in front of her, "We don't say we can't. You must be mistaken."
Cindy politely mustered smiled for him, "I must just not be concentrating enough. I think I will be able to concentrate better at home. I guess I will leave and tomorrow I know I will have it."
The room gave a collective sigh of relief. "Can't" was just a word they did not use in Who-ville. In Who-ville everyone could do everything.
Cindy trudged her pointy shoes through the perfectly white snow. Why was she in this stupid Christmas play anyway? She had not even gotten a good part. She was jelly. She wasn't even a whole bowl of jelly. She shared the bowl with three other girls who apparently could excitedly think like jelly much better than she could. If only she could quit the play, but no one in Who-ville quit either. They especially would not quit a group that was involved with Christmas. No, that was definitely not heard of.
She sighed and walked into the front door of her house. Her mother was home like always tidying up around the house in her pink apron and high heels (Cindy could never figure out how she walked around the house all day in those fuzzy pink stilettos without breaking her ankles, but she never asked).
"Home so soon? How was your rehearsal dear?" Her mother asked in her sweet sappy voice as her heel clapped against the floor while she walked.
"It was great mother," Cindy answered pulling out another one of her fake polite smiles, which lit up her cute round face. "The director said that I was the best jelly he had ever seen." She lied, but she did not feel like going into the truth, she might explode.
"That's wonderful darling!" her mother exclaimed, "Make sure to tell your father when he gets home."
"Okay mom, I'll be up in my room," Cindy called back. She had mastered the happy daughter, but no one would probably ever mistake her for a chunk of grape jelly. She locked her door behind her and collapsed onto her bed. Her headphones fit snuggly over her tiny ears and she put in her rock CD. She forgot about all jelly and all other fruit preservatives. When her mom came to tell her that dinner was ready, she pretended to be asleep.
*~*~*
For the next week she was still jelly at least now they got to get into the singing and dancing part too. The jelly still had to stick its gooey face into everything.
As she and her bowl tap danced across the room the director would call out things like, "Cindy Lou remember the jelly," "Remember, sweet and happy like jelly," "Jelly holds its head up, remember that." Cindy had never seen happy jelly holding up its head. Actually, most jelly she had seen looked depressed drooping over the edge of the bowl (now she thought she knew how it felt), but the director insisted it was happy (and with his round belly Cindy assumed that he had seen a lot of jelly donuts at least) so Cindy did happy. Apparently they had some artistic difference. If Cindy ever directed the show she would put the jelly in all black with matching black lipstick. Maybe she could talk to the costume designer.
Instead of black costumes they had purple ones and their makeup was bright purple with lots of pink blush. Even her little tap shoes were purple. It was disgusting. However, looking on the bright side they weren't as ugly as the sweet potatoes or the green bean casserole. The designer should have been shot.
Cindy wriggled into her purple dance outfit for dress rehearsals. Her and her bowl waited backstage for their cue. Then the music swelled for their entrance and they began to tap onto the stage. When they were about a foot from center stage there came this loud ripping sound and then a thump of four girls falling flat on their faces.
"Hold!" the director cried from his seat in the middle of the theatre. "Girls, graceful like jelly! Wardrobe!"
A group of women with pins stuck in their hair rushed out to the bowl and (with much effort and discussion) managed to pull them to their feet. Many "ow"s and "sorry my dear"s came from the bowl as the women pinned and sewed them back together with amazing speed. Unfortunately they were able to fix it so Cindy could continue in the rehearsal, yippee.
After rehearsals Cindy took off her shoes and saw that the paint of the tap shoes had rubbed off through her tights and all over her shoes. "Great purple feet, just what I need." She muttered to herself. The director handed them each a bowl of jelly to help them "study" it. "Remember, until the performances are over you can't eat anything, but your foods". Cindy definitely did not want to see anymore jelly, but there it was, a heaping bowl of grape jelly sitting in her lap. She watched the jelly roll around the bowl as she stood up. She could picture herself lying in bed listening to her music and staring blankly at the bowl. Wait a minute, she had an idea.
Cindy ran back to the stage to see all the techies tottering around with last minute touches. She looked around and spotted who she was looking for. He was a young man with a tattoo on his arm, which was visible as he leaned over to put his trumpet away in its case, and he was known for causing mischief. Most importantly, he was in charge of the pit band. Cindy rushed over and whispered in his ear. His face turned into a mischievous smile, and he nodded fervently giving Cindy a high five before muttering to the rest of the pit.
She was grinning as she walked out of the theatre. She tossed the grape jelly into the snow and ran home.
"How was your dress rehearsal sweetie?" her mother asked.
"The best ever!" Cindy truthfully responded and walked up to her room.
*~*~*
"Stop rubbing at your makeup!" the make up woman hissed as the girls walked out of the dressing rooms anxious and excited. They could hear the crowd applauding for the song that had just finished on stage.
The girls all excitedly got to the edge of the wing ready for their cue. There it was and there they went, tap dancing on. Cindy could see her mother wearing a fluffy, candy cane striped dress smiling up at her. Suddenly a trumpet was heard above the other instruments and the drums began to beat quickly. Cindy ducked out of her bowl and ran up stage to the apron pushing sweet potatoes out of her way and began dancing. An alto sax started to blow some jazz and Cindy rapidly tapped to the beat. She could see her mother's face grinning at her in surprise (thankfully she could not see the director in the audience with a face turning red with anger). The trumpet was about to end with chromatic sixteenth notes up to a high G. Cindy did a back hand spring and ended with a split before running off the stage leaving everyone in shock. She would be in so much trouble, but right now she was just happy.
(That is the most times I have ever used the word jelly. Hope you liked it! Please R.)
Have you ever thought about jelly? I mean really thought about jelly? Not just thought about making jelly or the sweet taste of jelly, but about the true essence of jelly? Have you ever tried to be jelly? A big bowl of thick, sweet, grape jelly.
"I can't do it!" Cindy shouted out.
Everyone in the room turned suddenly around to face her with appalled faces. There was a harmonious gasp from every single one of them.
"What my girl?" cried the director rushing across the room to stand in front of her, "We don't say we can't. You must be mistaken."
Cindy politely mustered smiled for him, "I must just not be concentrating enough. I think I will be able to concentrate better at home. I guess I will leave and tomorrow I know I will have it."
The room gave a collective sigh of relief. "Can't" was just a word they did not use in Who-ville. In Who-ville everyone could do everything.
Cindy trudged her pointy shoes through the perfectly white snow. Why was she in this stupid Christmas play anyway? She had not even gotten a good part. She was jelly. She wasn't even a whole bowl of jelly. She shared the bowl with three other girls who apparently could excitedly think like jelly much better than she could. If only she could quit the play, but no one in Who-ville quit either. They especially would not quit a group that was involved with Christmas. No, that was definitely not heard of.
She sighed and walked into the front door of her house. Her mother was home like always tidying up around the house in her pink apron and high heels (Cindy could never figure out how she walked around the house all day in those fuzzy pink stilettos without breaking her ankles, but she never asked).
"Home so soon? How was your rehearsal dear?" Her mother asked in her sweet sappy voice as her heel clapped against the floor while she walked.
"It was great mother," Cindy answered pulling out another one of her fake polite smiles, which lit up her cute round face. "The director said that I was the best jelly he had ever seen." She lied, but she did not feel like going into the truth, she might explode.
"That's wonderful darling!" her mother exclaimed, "Make sure to tell your father when he gets home."
"Okay mom, I'll be up in my room," Cindy called back. She had mastered the happy daughter, but no one would probably ever mistake her for a chunk of grape jelly. She locked her door behind her and collapsed onto her bed. Her headphones fit snuggly over her tiny ears and she put in her rock CD. She forgot about all jelly and all other fruit preservatives. When her mom came to tell her that dinner was ready, she pretended to be asleep.
*~*~*
For the next week she was still jelly at least now they got to get into the singing and dancing part too. The jelly still had to stick its gooey face into everything.
As she and her bowl tap danced across the room the director would call out things like, "Cindy Lou remember the jelly," "Remember, sweet and happy like jelly," "Jelly holds its head up, remember that." Cindy had never seen happy jelly holding up its head. Actually, most jelly she had seen looked depressed drooping over the edge of the bowl (now she thought she knew how it felt), but the director insisted it was happy (and with his round belly Cindy assumed that he had seen a lot of jelly donuts at least) so Cindy did happy. Apparently they had some artistic difference. If Cindy ever directed the show she would put the jelly in all black with matching black lipstick. Maybe she could talk to the costume designer.
Instead of black costumes they had purple ones and their makeup was bright purple with lots of pink blush. Even her little tap shoes were purple. It was disgusting. However, looking on the bright side they weren't as ugly as the sweet potatoes or the green bean casserole. The designer should have been shot.
Cindy wriggled into her purple dance outfit for dress rehearsals. Her and her bowl waited backstage for their cue. Then the music swelled for their entrance and they began to tap onto the stage. When they were about a foot from center stage there came this loud ripping sound and then a thump of four girls falling flat on their faces.
"Hold!" the director cried from his seat in the middle of the theatre. "Girls, graceful like jelly! Wardrobe!"
A group of women with pins stuck in their hair rushed out to the bowl and (with much effort and discussion) managed to pull them to their feet. Many "ow"s and "sorry my dear"s came from the bowl as the women pinned and sewed them back together with amazing speed. Unfortunately they were able to fix it so Cindy could continue in the rehearsal, yippee.
After rehearsals Cindy took off her shoes and saw that the paint of the tap shoes had rubbed off through her tights and all over her shoes. "Great purple feet, just what I need." She muttered to herself. The director handed them each a bowl of jelly to help them "study" it. "Remember, until the performances are over you can't eat anything, but your foods". Cindy definitely did not want to see anymore jelly, but there it was, a heaping bowl of grape jelly sitting in her lap. She watched the jelly roll around the bowl as she stood up. She could picture herself lying in bed listening to her music and staring blankly at the bowl. Wait a minute, she had an idea.
Cindy ran back to the stage to see all the techies tottering around with last minute touches. She looked around and spotted who she was looking for. He was a young man with a tattoo on his arm, which was visible as he leaned over to put his trumpet away in its case, and he was known for causing mischief. Most importantly, he was in charge of the pit band. Cindy rushed over and whispered in his ear. His face turned into a mischievous smile, and he nodded fervently giving Cindy a high five before muttering to the rest of the pit.
She was grinning as she walked out of the theatre. She tossed the grape jelly into the snow and ran home.
"How was your dress rehearsal sweetie?" her mother asked.
"The best ever!" Cindy truthfully responded and walked up to her room.
*~*~*
"Stop rubbing at your makeup!" the make up woman hissed as the girls walked out of the dressing rooms anxious and excited. They could hear the crowd applauding for the song that had just finished on stage.
The girls all excitedly got to the edge of the wing ready for their cue. There it was and there they went, tap dancing on. Cindy could see her mother wearing a fluffy, candy cane striped dress smiling up at her. Suddenly a trumpet was heard above the other instruments and the drums began to beat quickly. Cindy ducked out of her bowl and ran up stage to the apron pushing sweet potatoes out of her way and began dancing. An alto sax started to blow some jazz and Cindy rapidly tapped to the beat. She could see her mother's face grinning at her in surprise (thankfully she could not see the director in the audience with a face turning red with anger). The trumpet was about to end with chromatic sixteenth notes up to a high G. Cindy did a back hand spring and ended with a split before running off the stage leaving everyone in shock. She would be in so much trouble, but right now she was just happy.
(That is the most times I have ever used the word jelly. Hope you liked it! Please R.)