Halloween is the best holiday of the year. He knew this, deep down. Deep in his bones. When else could you even attempt to dress like a slutty camel and not get thrown into an asylum?
Apparently not this night. He surveyed the other sexy animals, sexy fruits, sexy trees, as he sat in the corner, ostracized, sipping an Everclear-based punch in what felt like the adult equivalent of time-out. Nobody feels confident dressed as a sexy, two-humped camel, but the murmurs he heard with their eyes daggering his back, never made him feel more outcast than that moment in his whole life. It was at this precise moment when she walked into the room.
That’s right, her. The disco lights shined bright across those long legs, and her feathers ruffled, like a Radio City Hall Roquette: the sexy ostrich had entered the party.
And if he hadn’t been so frazzled before she walked in, his already non-existent game would have been further petrified. Slack-jawed, he stared; not subtly and not briefly. He stared until his mouth’s interior was a Saharan sand dune, and only after his eyes felt like two salted raisins did he manage his manners. He blinked and let Everclear punch wash over that desert, bringing it to life again, and then somehow found the confidence to go up and talk to that dazzling, flightless bird.
That drunken, slutty camel strode confidently, chest out, humps perked, walking right up to that ostrich and as he opened his mouth to speak to that goddess she turned to him and said, “Sorry, I have a girlfriend.”