It was another morning in the Belcher household. Louise enjoyed her eggs, toast and bacon, the cooking/toasting of which filled the kitchen and the hallway with their delectable smell. Tina was carefully wrapping cheesecloth around her arm in preparation for a report that she was going to give that day. The school was having a theme month in which a number of the grades would study a particular subject. This time around, it was Ancient Egypt. It was mainly grades five through eight that were doing these projects. Louise was still in grade four, so she didn't need to concern herself with it.

At that moment, she mainly concerned herself with what she was going to drink with her breakfast.

"Mooooom," she said.

"Yeah, Louise?" asked Linda.

"Can you bring over the coffee and top me off?" she asked as she waved around a mug.

"Nice try, Louise. You're not drinking coffee until you're older."

Darn. She was certain that would work. "Then can I at least have orange juice?"

"Say the magic word."

Deep down, Linda missed having small children and it was moments like this that made Louise think that maybe she should make more of an effort to be rude and unruly. But why would she need convincing of this? She was already Louise.

"Please," said Louise.

"There we go," said Linda.

"My mummy report is going just as planned," said Tina, "I even made specialized jars for the different organs that would be removed from my body if I were an actual mummy." She started picking up the different-colored jars as she spoke. "Like, this one's for the heart, this one's for the brain…"

"Was the brain ever removed before a person's death?" asked Louise, "Because that would explain some people."

Linda poured a glass of orange juice and placed it in front of Louise.

"Finally," thought Louise, "Some fruity, Florida goodness." When the sweet, orange liquid touched her lips, she felt the sunshine touch her tongue… along with something unpleasant, something… flaky.

Louise spit the orange juice back into the glass.

"Aw, yuck!" she said, "What the crap, Mom?! Why did you get orange juice with pulp in it?!"

"I'm sorry, sweetie," said Linda, "I grabbed the kind with pulp by accident and I didn't think you'd mind."

"Didn't think I'd mind?! Do you have any idea what an insult pulp is to orange juice?! How would you feel if I sold you a house with sawdust all over the wooden floors, huh?! Would you like that?!"

"Calm down, Louise. I'll stop by the store today and get some pulp-free orange juice."

"All right. It's not like my morning is ruined or anything…" Louise crossed her arms in discontent. "Whoever invented orange juice with pulp in it will meet their fate in the fire-and-lion pits… and I don't like you very much right now either, Mom."

Tina stopped wrapping the cheesecloth around her arm and touched her index finger and thumb to her chin in thought.

"Hmmm…" she said. "Hey, Gene."

When Gene looked up from his breakfast, Tina motioned for him to come out into the hall with her.

Once they were in the hall, they had a whispery conversation that Louise didn't even try to listen in on because she decided to focus on her breakfast.

Once Tina and Gene were done talking, they walked back into the kitchen.

"Hey, Louise," said Tina in her approachable babysitter voice, "I think Gene would like to show you his latest one-man show."

Louise sighed.

"Okay, I'll bite," she said, "What is it about?"

"Come to my room for the dress rehearsal and you'll see!" said Gene.


Louise soon found herself Gene's room, which smelled better than usual but not by much. Gene was at his dresser with a handheld mirror in front of his face. He was clearly applying makeup that he "borrowed" from his mother. He had slipped on a light blue dress that vaguely resembled something that Ancient Egyptian royalty would wear. On his wrists were gold bracelets, at least one of them having a scarab pattern.

"So, you're doing yet another one-man show?" she asked.

"You know it!" said Eugene. "Why stop at my Die Hard musical? EVERYTHING should be a one-man show, including my report on Cleopatra!" He turned around and showed that he had sloppily painted cat's eyes on his face with eyeliner. He put on his wig of long, black hair, which was decked with a golden crown. "My one-man show is about the last day of Cleopatra's life. It's called… The Passion… of Cleopatra."

"Why is it called The Passion of Cleopatra?"

"Well, The Passion of the Christ was about the final days of Jesus' life. I'm assuming that's what the word "passion" means. Anyway, I just want to start this dress rehearsal by saying 'Elizabeth Taylor, eat your heart out.'"

Gene walked to the center of his room to start his play. He nearly tripped over his dress. He inhaled and then let out a big sigh.

"We begin our play on that fateful morning. Cleopatra and her flamboyant male friend Quintus were at the plaza shopping at what I can only assume is the two-thousand-year-old equivalent of Sephora…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" said Louise, "Cleopatra had a flamboyant male friend named Quintus? Also, she was shopping that morning?"

"Listen, the history books were scarce on the exact details of her last twenty-four hours. For all we know, she was doing normal stuff with her original character friend. A little creative freedom can be taken here and there. Anyway…" Gene pantomimed going inside a building and walking up to an employee. "Hello, Cornelius. I trust that the malachite for my eye makeup has been freshly mined and that you have plenty of red ochre in stock. Oh, you have everything I said? Splendid! I'll take some…"

"Ugg, this is boring!" said Louise, "Why is this important?"

"Because I'm trying to show that Cleopatra wasn't born looking this beautiful and that her looks took effort and money!"

"Can we just skip to the exciting part? You know, the part where she dies?"

"I guess I can. Let's skip way ahead to the scene in Cleopatra's private mausoleum." Gene grabbed his giant teddy bear and placed it on the "stage." He pantomimed shock and fear while looking out an invisible window. "Oh no! Octavius' army is at the city's gates! I'm not going to back down, Mark!"

"Who's Mark?"

"Mark Anthony. He was Cleopatra's lover during this time. You would know that if you let me perform the rest of the play for you. Anyway…" Gene cleared his throat. "I'm not going to back down, Mark! I'm going to make sure we see through this to the end!" He then looked behind him and made eye contact with the bear. "Yes, I know we made a death pact for when things get really bad, but I assure you, this is not one of those times!" Gene paused. "You think it is? Wait… what are you doing with that dagger? Don't stab yourself in the stomach! Nooooooooo!"

Gene fell to his knees and held the bear in his arms.

"My love!" he proclaimed, "Your memories shall live in my heart and your name shall be spoken through the ages! Goodnight, my lovely Mark. May the gods be good to you." Gene stood up and grabbed a stuffed snake with googly eyes. "Octavius is going to capture me and my children if I live. A promise made to a lover is still a promise." Gene put on his best sad look as he looked at the silly-looking snake. "Oh, happy dagger! I mean, happy snake! Inject me with your venom and provide me with my escape." He took the snake's head and pushed it against his arm to make it look like the snake was biting. "AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH"

Gene fell to the ground and shook wildly while gagging. Much like how the snake injected venom into his character, Gene injected as much drama into this performance as it could take.

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH" he continued. This went on for about thirty seconds.

"How long does this go for?" asked Louise.

"For as long as it takes a person to die of poison."

"It's taking her so long that I feel like Octavius' forces would have found her by now."

Gene finally finished his dramatic death scene and lay on the ground with his tongue hanging out. He placed his wrist on his forehead and placed the stuffed snake on his chest to show the world how he "died." In all, the way he presented himself was befitting of a Renaissance painting.

After several seconds, he stood back up.

"Tadaa!" he said. "What do you think?"

"Well… wow. You really outdid yourself with the wardrobe and you milked that performance for all it was worth," said Louise, "Maybe just keep the part where she dies and leave out everything else?"

"I'm keeping the makeup shopping scene because it's educational," said Gene. "And you didn't even see the entire scene! I was about to talk about all the other things they used for makeup!"

"Even though you're just supposed to do a report on Cleopatra's death and nothing else?"

"Think of it as a bonus for witnessing my acting ability. The kids didn't ask for more educational content, but sister, I'm giving it to them."

"Louise!" shouted Tina from the kitchen. "Come back!"

"Ooh, she's ready!" said Gene.

"Ready for what?" asked Louise.


When Louise walked back to the kitchen, she saw that her half-eaten breakfast was still there in the same arrangement in which she left it. However, the rejected glass of orange juice was slightly closer to her seat. Someone had touched that.

Tina was keeping track of her organ jars when she looked up and saw Louise.

"Drink your orange juice," she said.

"What?" said Louise, "No!"

"You'll be surprised. Just drink it."

Louise sat down and trusted what Tina said. Tina was usually trustworthy. Louise put the glass to her lips and sucked it down. There was tangy sweetness… but no pulp. Okay, there were a few pulp pieces here and there, but it wasn't an entire pulp convention like the last time she drank it.

"Wha… the pulp is gone?" said Louise, "What did you do? What sorcery is this?"

"I drained the orange juice through the cheesecloth." Tina pointed to the box of cheesecloth that she was using for her mummy report.

"Wow… thanks, Tina."

"No problem. By the way, it was my idea to call the snake in Gene's play a 'happy snake.' I was inspired by Romeo and Juliet when Juliet called her dagger a happy dagger. It made me think that performances of that play should at least draw a happy face on that dagger to make it make sense."

The holes in that cheesecloth must be tiny, thought Louise. As she drank the rest of her orange juice, she decided to calm the fiery hatred of her mother and the person who invented pulped orange juice. Actually, she didn't hate her mother at all. Hatred for her was just something that happened in the moment and faded, like a firefly's light. The hatred of the person who invented pulped orange juice, on the other hand, was eternal, like the light of the sun. Or her love for Booboo from Boyz 4 Now.

Sometimes, it really was the little things that made her day.