Cowboy Mouth wrote:
My hurricane party got outta control
I'm lying in the gutter eatin' tootsie rolls
With red ant bites all over my ass
Beating on my buddies with a baseball bat
Hurricane Party
Gordon groaned and rolled over.
Or rather, he attempted to roll over. There was a weight on him – more than one – across his stomach and legs, and as he wriggled to get out more groans sounded.
He eventually was free enough to sit up, grumbling as he pushed a rather shapely pair of legs off his thighs, the owner of which uttered a swear word his Grandmother would have boxed his ears for.
It made him grin.
Gordon looked around him. The ground was littered with bodies in various stages of undress, and what was free ground was covered in the remains of food from the wild party he'd thrown for the entire swim teams USA, Canada, Australia and Great Britain.
The Olympics were over for another four years and this was the one opportunity they had to let their hair down before returning to their respective countries and beginning training anew. So they had crashed the house Gordon's Dad had bought him as a base and partied.
God, how they had partied! Take-out was ordered and food and drink in great quantity was consumed. And not a crumb of it was 'sanctioned food'.
A memory arose as one of the Canadians threw a pool noodle at him and Gordon caught it. They had been very tipsy and had begun beating each other up with the noodles. There was a vague memory of piggy-back riding and jousting too.
More and more bodies were moving and Gordon absentmindedly scratched at the back of his upper thigh where he suspected an ant had bit him during the night. Considering the food strewn about the place he wasn't surprised to have been bitten.
There came a crash from the house and a curse that told him his time was up. Before he could move his three older brothers appeared at the door, amusement warring with frowns. Gordon smiled sheepishly. It wasn't the first time they had found him after an important win all partied out.
John and Virgil disappeared into the house and Scott came forward, stepping over people until he reached Gordon and hauling him to his feet.
In silence he accepted the coffee Scott held out, and in silence he drunk it, Scott's arm slung over his shoulder, surveying the yard.
'Thanks, Scott.'
'Don't thank me, Squid.'
'Oh?'
'John and Virgil are clearing the house.'
Gordon squinted up at his eldest brother. There was a smirk upon Scott's face and a twinkle in his eye.
'You have fifteen minutes to clear the pool. Dad, Grandma and Alan are on their way.'
They could have set a new world record with the speed the pool was cleared.