Now I Can Dance
Thank you Madam Toastmaster.
Ladies and gentlemen I would like to share with you a tale of when I prevented a greedy goat from gobbling my golden statue of Gloria Estefan.
It all started on a Sunday afternoon. I was out in the backyard so I could carefully clean my seven foot golden statue of glorious Gloria Estefan. Arms straining and hoping that it would not be raining. For high up above me the clouds from up above were starting to darken like a sleeping laptop, and the winds from the west were trying to slice me into cubes. Not wanting to become human gladwrap, I decided to try and finish as quickly as possible.
“Bloody rain. Why can’t you just stay away for once?” I muttered to myself.
Making my way towards the statue, the grass felt soft beneath my bare feet. Taking care of golden Gloria was to me one of life’s simple pleasures. Like watching a gecko catch a morose moth. There was nothing that I liked better than polishing and waxing the statue. Every day I would come out and spend hours upon hours lovingly and tenderly making sure that Mrs Estefan was looking fresh and spotless. I protected it like an eraser protects a pencil. Having my cleaning time cut short because of some rain made me feel awful.
About half an hour later I was tenaciously tidying her toes and neatly nurturing her nose when I saw a goat standing next to me. Licking his lips and greedily eying the statue of Gloria like it was leftover candy on the kitchen floor. Jumping back slightly I decided on my plan of attack. The easy thing to do would have been to yell at the goat and chase it off my property with my chasing broom. But I could see that this goat had a special red triangle badge pinned to himself. Indicating that he had some sort of diplomatic status in our country. Which meant that I could only be as sweet as sugar on a lollipop to this insensitive invader.
“Hello, my name is reepbot. Can I help you?” I said with a smile as fake as a plant in an office.
“Why hello there young fellow.” Said the Goat eyes glinting with gluttony. “Name’s Garry. Don’t mind me. I’m just going to eat this statue.”
“But you can’t! That’s Mrs Gloria Estefan!”
“I don’t care if it’s a statue of the Archbishop of Canterbury! I’m going to eat it! With lashings of ginger beer.”
“You touch this and I’ll…”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort my dear boy. Now get out of my way before I have you arrested for interfering with a goat!”
I took a step back, not wanting to spend the night in a clammy cell. Suddenly the sky started weeping and the rain lashed down on top of us both. Neither of us wanting to stand there arguing like soggy sardines, we went our separate ways. This problem would have to wait for another day.
The next few days were uneventful. I knew though that it would not be long before he had another go at the statue. The only solution to this stalemate was for me to get Garry wet from a sprinkler. For as everyone knows, Goats hate sprinklers. Even a drop from one descends them into devilish derisions and delusions. All I could do was just sit and wait for him.
A couple of days later I saw Garry, carrying what looked to be some type of silver cutlery, come into my amiable abode.
“Hello there, reepbot!” Said Garry with cheery grin. “Nice day for a picnic isn’t it?”
“There isn’t going to be any picnic. Not today.” I said with a glare.
“Oh, yes there is old chap. You see, you’re forgetting one little thing…..DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY!” Said Garry, pointing to his red badge.
In a tick of the clock I raced over and turned on the sprinkler system. Garry, reacting as if he had been bitten by a cacophony of crazy chillis, let out a silent yelp.
“It’s just been revoked.” I said, watching Garry scurry away into the distance like an ant on a summer’s day.
From then on I had no trouble with any goats trying to sneak into my sanctuary to savour the statue of grand Gloria.
That concludes my speech Madam Toastmaster.
Ditto lol
