Funny business: reading realistic fiction; Use What You Have 8

Use What You Have

1. I want to be a comedian when I grow up—like for my legitimate job, not just being a weekend wit warrior.
2. Apparently, it was a mistake to divulge this sacred information to my older brother who, after hearing about my intentions, instantly attempted to extinguish my fledgling flame.
3. “You think you can actually make money being funny?” he howled incredulously. “No way, Simone—that’s about as likely as Mr. Woofy becoming president of the Squirrel Protection Society of America.”
4. “Ruff!” Mr. Woofy barked, wagging his almost nonexistent stub of a tail.
5. I should have anticipated my brother’s smug response. After all, it was only on rare occasions that he found me even remotely amusing. His scoffing was my cue to exit stage left. My wounded pride and I stomped out the door with Mr. Woofy at our heels.
6. I collapsed onto the sprawling grass lawn of our neighborhood’s post office and stared introspectively at the clouds. It’s kinda a habit of mine—at first I stuck out like a sore thumb, but now the workers are used to seeing me here—sometimes they even graciously bring me a leftover doughnut. On occasion, my trusted associate (also known as my best friend) Raj shows up and joins me. It doesn’t happen often—he’s usually helping his grandma in her shop.
7. I was watching a humongous dancing hippopotamus waft across the sky (and trying to come up with some killer hippo jokes) when Raj plunked down next to me.
8. “Not working today?” I inquired.
9. “Naw. There’s a water leak,” he responded, making giant explosion gestures with his hands. “Shop’s closed ’til the plumber plugs the problem.”
10. Suddenly, Mr. Woofy jumped over me and darted to the bush. He returned with a movie theater popcorn tub wedged on his head. He jumped and pawed at his face in a cartoonish way. It was hysterical! Raj and I couldn’t stop laughing. Soon, customers from inside the post office were pointing, and some even came out to inspect the hilarious situation. That’s precisely the moment that I remembered an article I’d recently read about the comic power of improvisation. I needed to act on this turn of events—and fast! I quickly stood up, made an obnoxiously loud sound, then swaggered over to the small crowd that had gathered. Then, with exaggerated arm gestures I proclaimed, “Welcome! I’m so glad you’ve come to our show . . .”