Chapter 27: Can You Tell Me How To Get, How To Get to Sesame Street?

I wasn't too sure how I came to be in the situation which I now found myself in. Edward, Jacob, John Guevernmont, R. Kelly and I (Bret, having just given birth, was forced to remain in the hotel) were all now walking the streets of the large and prosperous city of Memphis Tennessee. I tried my best to blend in with the crowd, which was definately not what my companions were trying to do.

"Hey! These Hammer pants were a great idea!" Jacob said to Edward. "I feel like we really blend in with the people of the streets!"

"I know, right?" Edward looked proud of himself as he adjusted his bright day-glow yellow and blue shirt. "I'm so glad I decided to watch MTV that time!"

"When exactly was this time?" I asked.

"The nineties, of course!" He chortled. "Gosh Bella... can't you tell by our hip threads?"

I shrugged. It did make sense, judging by their clearly '90's era clothing. I wasn't sure how Edward thought this related to the streets as they were now, but he looked so proud of himself, I didn't really want to burst his phat bubble.

"By the way!" John Guevernmont said, throwing his hands behind his back. "Did you know that I invented the streets? It was a social experiment back in the day. I'm so brilliant, you know."

"Oh gee!" I said with mock enthusam. "How extraordinary! You really are in a class all your own, aren't you?"

"What? No. You're dumb. I'm a teacher so I have many people in my class. If I was all alone, I wouldn't be teaching anyone," he replied, clearly not seeing my sarcasm. "Who's rye would I be catching then? Hmm?"

I declined to answer, shaking my head in frusturation. It had only been a few days since my wedding and I never imagined life as a wife to be so bizarre. I was hoping for a week filled with mind blowing orgasms and Elvis. Not a week filled with farting, viagra and soulful music by the R and B singer .

"HEY!" Edward snapped his fingers in realization. "Maybe John could cure your yeast infection. Rye can be used to make bread, and if he catches rye he must know a thing or two about yeast!"

"I'd like to keep my infection thank you," I decided to play along. It seemed easier even if it got me stuck with a bunch of men that looked like MC Hammer's back up dancers.

"Look at what these pants are great for!" Jacob turned the attention away from my yeast and towards his badly dancing body. He was going down the street dancing in the MC crab walk thing that he does in the 'Can't Touch This Video.'

"WOW!" Edward jumped in shock and excitement. "THAT'S GREAT! I knew these pants were a great purchase. I just bought them for the consederable leg room. I mean Jakey boy and I have a lot of rippling muscles to worry about. But now! NOW I see the true awesomeness of these pants. Let's all walk like that all the time!" with that said him and Jacob crabwalked the next ten blocks before they smashed into each other in shock.

"Is that?" Jacob breathed.

"Yes kids!" A man with a nasal Rhode Island accent answered for Jacob. "It's me Alan Shawn Fienstein." he took each of hands and shook it only like a local philanthropist could.

"OHMYGOD!OHMYGOD!OHMYGOD!" Edward and Jacob held each others hand and danced around in circles. Apparently this man was of some importance to them.

"Uhh...who are you?"

"GOD BELLA!" Edward yelled in embarressment. "HE'S ONLY THE BEST GOOD DEED DOER ON THE PLANET! Why, in fact, he's always feeding the hungry of Rhood I-land!" he pronounced the small state much like his tweed jacket clad hero.

Alan Shawn help up a modest hand, "Now, now. I don't like to brag!"

"Oh but Mr. Fientsein!" Edward took both of Alan's hand in his own as if he were a saint. "You have no need to be famous! You taught me that we're all a family under one sky. A FAMILY UNDER ONE SKY!" with this Edward took his hands off Alan and did the cheesy sign language cues that went along with the song.

"We're people!" Jacob joined in.

"We're animals!" John also added his voice to the song.

"We're... rocks?" I tried to join in when everyone was gazing at me to continue the song. They all glared as I obviously got the lyric wrong. "Sorry..." I said sheepishly.

"Please excuse her," Edward said to Alan Shawn Feinstein. "She's not a Junior Scholar..."

Alan Shawn Fienstein looked at me in horror, backing up slowly. "W...what...?"

"It's okay!" Edward tried to reassure the Rhode Island resident. "She's crazy... it's okay! Anyway... we... Mr. Fienstein... we need your help."

"Do yous need me to do yous a good deed? How bout a high five or a hug?"

"Oh a hug!" Edward bounced on his toes gleefully before sobering. "No... Mr. Fienstein... I'm afraid what we need is help in finding Farterella."

Alan Shawn Feinstein looked pensive for a moment, gazing over all of us in turn. "Edwahd," he said after the pause. "I need you to does me a favoa. You needs to make dis girl a juniah scholah. Then she can geet one of mai special baseball chards. It holds da key to da fhat."

"Right!" Edward snapped his fingers in realization. "That makes perfect sense! I wish I hadn't left mine back in Forks..."

"Me too," Jacob sighed. "But if we can get Bella to fill out the good deed book... then we can get the card and find Farterella, right?"

"Right!" Edward said as he took the handbook that was being held out to him by the old Jewish man. "Bella, this is for you! You have to fill it with your good deeds so then we can meet the Feinstein Singers and learn all the neat songs and then you can get a junior scholar card and then we can get the special baseball card and find Farterella! Ella ella hey hey hey..."

I looked at the book being handed to me. It appeared to be a work book in which I was supposed to write down different good deeds that I had done throughout the day and how I felt about doing the good deeds. It also gave me special instructions and inspirational statements made by the man standing before us. Apparently, he was very proud of me and was glad that I was helping to make the world a better place. I felt... oddly at ease, holding the book. Like I was going to change everything for the better and make this place a happy one to be in.

"She's got the look in her eye," Jacob said, smiling at me warmly. "She's realizing what it means to be a Feinstein Junior Scholar."

"I remember my first time..." Edward gazed off into the distance. "You never really forget, do you?"

"Good luck youngstahs!" with that Alan Shawn Fientsien vanished, as if he never really even existed.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE WE JUST MET ALAN SHAWN FIENSTEIN!" Jacob squealed and fanned his face with his hands.

"Tell me about it!" Edward giggled like a school girl. "I'm all giddly like a teenage girl who just walked in on the foot ball team showering!"

"OH MAN!" Jacob joined Edward in his simile. "That would be so hot for a teenage girl. All those buff bodies sweaty from practice."

"Oh yeah! It'd definitely have to be after practice. What's the use of seeing a buff body if its not all sweaty. I mean isn't that why sex occurs in the nude."

I cocked an eyebrow at this conversation. It might have won as the weirdest of them yet.

"You don't have to be nude to be having sex," I explained, knowing that it didn't matter in the least bit. "You can be in various states of dressed and it still works basically the same."

"That's nonsense I say!" Edward flipped his wrist in my direction. "Why in the Titanic they had sex naked, and everyone with half a brain knows that the Titanic is the canon on how sex should be had."

"So true!" Jacob nodded in agreement. "I can't tell you how many times I've watched to movie in order to prepare for the big day. Why I've spend so much time practicing the steamy hand on window slide that all the windows on my house are imbedded with hand prints!"

"Wow!" John Guevermont gaped. "That's devotion."

"What can I say? I'm a hopeless romantic."

"Hmm," I thought aloud, "But if farterella is gas and steam, also gas, is present in your love making bliss, how can you be sure you're not really smacking Farterella when you push you hand against the steam ridden window?"

The four men stood pondering this thought. Hands stroking chins, they all weighed the options of the possible implications of this act.

"Well," Edward was the first to speak. "I guess that would make you a wife beater."

"Gee," Jacob scratched his head. "But I don't have any of those ribbed white man tanks. Isn't it required to have one of those if you're going to be a wife beater. I couldn't possible be abusive without one of those. But perhaps I'll have to modify the situation a bit. Improve upon the sex situation I've learned about. Kind of like when a Renaissance artist teaches another and the other surpasses the artist making him not want to paint again. I'd be like that!"

"HEY!" Edward came to another realization. "Bell you just helped Jacob, by informing him of this possible bad outcome to steamy sex with Farterella! That reeks of good deed doing! You better put it in the book!"

"I don' think th-"

"OF COURSE THAT'S A GOOD DEED!" Jacob exclaimed, why anything can be a good deed. Once, I did a good deed just by making sure to flush the toilet after I used it.

"Uh...fine," I thought it better to just comply than to aruge. I opened the first page of the book. The page was set up so I had to draw my good deed and then write about it. I took pen to hand and began to create my artistic interpretation of my deed.

"What is that?" Edward asked, once I had finished filling out the page.

"I think it's a coconut crab..." Jacob said, squinting at my picture. "Good job, Bella. That's a very nice crab."

I sighed. "It's a drawing of me telling you about Farterella..." I said, kind of embarrassed for my artistic abilities. "I... I tried really hard..."

"We could tell," John Guevernmont said as he tapped his foot impatiently. "It's been nearly eleven minutes since you started! We have to get the good deeds done so we can get the fart."

"Right!" Edward said, clicking his tongue. "We need to get going on this! I'm sure there are people out there who could sure use some smiles right about now! Come on, Bella, let's get going!"