A rich lady’s backyard. There’s a
swing set assembled. EMILY is there,
MRS. FIPPINGER enters.
Oh no, oh no. What is this?
(she looks at a piece of paper)
Oh no, oh no, oh no. What is this? What is this?
This is your Jungle Safari Adventure.
This is your Jungle Safari Adventure.
I didn’t request a Jungle Safari Adventure.
I’ve got an order right here for one Jungle Safari Adventure
at 1810 Overlook Terrace. Is this 1810 Overlook Terrace?
Then this is your Jungle Safari Adventure.
Who are you?
Emily stubs out her cigarette, puts in
a piece of gum.
I’m your Safari Fun Guide.
Well, I specifically requested a Deep Space Galaxy Wonder.
Well that’s not possible.
Well, it must be possible because I did it.
We don’t have a Deep Space Galaxy Wonder, or any space-
related wonders, available on this fine day.
Well I ordered a Deep Space Galaxy Wonder.
Well my order says Jungle Safari Adventure, so I can’t oblige
(looks at paper again)
Well, I’ve got the receipt from online right here, and my
paper says Deep Space Galaxy Wonder. And people will be here
in 1 hour, and I want what I ordered.
Let me see that.
MRS. FIPPINGER hands her the receipt.
Emily examines it.
Jesus. Damnit Scotty.
EMILY pulls out her cell phone and
starts to dial.
Hold on a minute.
(into phone, too loud)
Hi, Manuel? Manuel? Gimme Scotty. Si. Scotty. Si. Si.
(shakes her head, waits)
Hey Dumbass. I’m at Overlook Terrace right now with Mrs.
Fippinger? And the Jungle Safari is all good to go. Yeah.
But Mrs. Fippinger says she didn’t order a Jungle Safari.
She ordered a Galaxy Wonder. Yeah, a Deep Space Galaxy
Wonder. And it says here that the person who assisted her
phone payment was Scotty Powers. What the fuck, Scotty? I
don’t DO Deep Space Galaxy Wonders any more. I’m here to
lead a Jungle Safari Adventure, and so I am going to do a
Jungle Safari Adventure. And if you need someone to lead a
Deep Space Galaxy Wonder, then come down here and put on your
spacesuit, and you can fucking beam me up, Scotty. This is
your issue, not mine.
Yeah, yeah he did.
Oh really? Oh. Ok. I’ll let her know.
She hangs up.
I’m sorry there’s nothing we can do.
Your husband signed for the equipment when it was assembled.
If there was a problem, that was the time to bring it up. I
hope you enjoy your Jungle Safari Adventure.
I will not enjoy my Jungle Safari Adventure! Look around
you! Does this look like the appropriate environment for an
adventure in a jungle safari?! Have you seen the aliens
adorning the trees? Have you seen the rocket-shaped cake?
As you watched them assemble a ratty termite-infested jungle
gym in my back yard, were you perhaps given pause by the
giant sign saying “Blast Off to a Great Birthday Daniel”?!!
Did that strike you as odd for even a moment? Did you even
Ma’am I’m not paid to think. I am paid to be a Safari Fun
Guide, and that is what I’m going to be.
Well, I didn’t pay for a Safari Fun Guide, and I didn’t pay
for the temporary installment of a decrepit decades-old swing
set that frankly looks unsafe for children’s use. I paid for
a Moonwalk, a spacewalk, a bouncy castle, a giant inflatable
cage for jumping children under the age of 10.
A Deep Space Galaxy Wonder. I understand the term ma’am.
Yes, I paid for a Deep Space Galaxy Wonder, and that is what
I am going to get.
Don’t “Ma’am” me, you little lackey. This is Daniel’s day
and there are a lot of people coming, and the theme of
Daniel’s day, in case I haven’t spelled it out enough to
penetrate your drug-addled brain, is Outer Space. And while
I’m sure that you have been to some form of Outer Space with
your little friends in your parent’s basement, the real outer
space, Daniel’s outer space, doesn’t have any Jungles or
Safari Fun Guides or any of the attitude and bullshit you
have to offer me.
What Daniel’s Outer Space, however, is supposed to have is an
inflatable Galaxy Wonder for Daniel and his friends to bounce
in, being tended to by a friendly clown dressed as a friendly
astronaut. And when everyone arrives from the planetarium in
less than 1 hour, instead of all of that, what we have is
You who have offered Jungles instead of Galaxies, problems
instead of solutions, and attitude instead of service. You
have no answers and no authority, and I don’t even know or
care who you are.
I’m the friendly clown, bitch.
Look, I regret that your husband fucked up. I’m sorry that
you don’t trust him enough to involve him in the intricate
workings of Daniel’s birthday donkey show, which might have
prevented him signing off on what is obviously the wrong
piece of equipment for an Outer Space theme. But we can’t do
anything about that now. Even if Scotty wasn’t such a
dickless idiot and there were actually a Deep Space Galaxy
Wonder available, which there isn’t, and on it’s way right
now, which it’s not, your busload of plantarium monkeys would
be disappointed because it wouldn’t be set up in time, and
there wouldn’t be a friendly fucking Space Clown to greet
So we can either tape some rocket ship decorations on this
Jungle Safari Adventure, make that goofy yellow swing a space
pod, and let me do my Safari Fun Guide thing…or you can
flip a fish bowl over your bitch face, pretend to be a space
clown astronaut, and actually engage with your son on his
special fucking day.
Your clown makeup’s half way there, I can help you with the
rest. Step away or engage. What’s it gonna be?
MRS. FIPPINGER thinks.
I think we have some extra rockets in the kitchen.
MRS. FIPPINGER exits.
EMILY lights up another cigarette.
Happy fucking birthday Daniel.