Eric’s watermelon phone case glinted in the sun as he stared at it. He blinked his eyes, that were burning from the light, rocking toward his phone and away from it. Biting his nails, he picked it up. The reflection of his face bounced back at him and he threw it on the bed again. “Stop stressing, Eric. It is just a little phone call, it isn’t like you have never called the Frenchies before,” he muttered to himself. He wandered over to his phone again, quickly picked it up and punched in the numbers before he could convince himself not to. The beating of his heart seemed to fill the whole room as the line rang.
“Bonjour?”
“Ahh, yes, can I speak to the Orange Frenchie please?”
“Un moment.”
Eric heard the fish leave the phone and talk to someone in the background. After a couple minutes of agonizing waiting, finally someone returned to the phone.
“Comment puis-je vous aider?”
“Umm, sure, I have a problem… Love related.”
“Pouvons-nous nous en occuper par téléphone ou dois-je venir vous voir?”
“You see it is my girlfriend.”
“Je viendrai à toi.”
The line beeped, and Eric fell on his bed with a sigh of relief. “It’d be nice if I could speak french,” he mumbled to himself.
As Eric sought help, James tried to dress up. A very uncommon event for him, seeing as he hated all outfits other than his banana-yellow sweater with jeans. He tightened his tie, and turned to the mirror. His black suit looked out of place on him, and his blonde hair didn’t suit his look at all. Debating whether he should even go or not, the doorbell rang. “I told her I would pick her up, why is she here?” James quickly flattened his hair and ran down the stairs to the door. He opened it to see a very short orange fish standing there. “Orange Frenchie?! Why on earth are you here?”
“Bouge, j’ai du boulot,” the orange fish responded.
“I have no idea what that means,” returned James.
The fish pushed past him and went up the stairs.
James was curious as to why he was here, but already being late he grabbed his jacket and ran out the door. He took a cab, a very rare indulgence for him, and went to Margaret’s house. As he stood at the door, he once again had second thoughts. This was very out of character for him, but he really wanted to impress Margaret. It seemed he was messing up every one of their meetings lately, so he wanted to make things right with an incredible night out. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the doorbell. The door opened, and Margaret stood there in a scarlet dress and jacket, looking mesmerizing. “You ready to go? Oh sorry, your carriage awaits madam.” He held out his arm, and she linked hers into his, they walked to the cab and entered. “To Michelle’s Diner dear chauffeur, that was too much wasn’t it? Ok, I will stop now.”
“No, it is cute.” Margaret looked up at him and smiled, but she seemed rather down. James chose not to ask her why, he usually didn’t pressure people into talking, she would tell him in her own time if it was important. The cab stopped outside of a very nice looking restaurant, with bright windows and a heavenly smell. “Really James, now this is too much.”
James grinned, went around the cab and opened the door for her.
“I can open my own door,” she said, but she was laughing and seemed in a better mood. He escorted her inside, and they began to talk.
Eric and the fish stared at each other. The fish impatiently, and Eric stressfully. “So, you’re the Orange Frenchie?”
“Oui.”
“You are going to help me?”
“Oui.”
“Cool, cool. Umm, it is about my girlfriend.”
“Continuez.”
“You see, I really like her, but we don’t seem to be meshing properly. I want to fix our relationship so it isn’t so weak.”
“Je vois, c’est toi ou elle le probléme?”
“So what am I supposed to do?” The fish left the room. Eric, not sure what to do, followed him.
They left the house and went down to the park. The fish sat on the swing and patted the other swing with his fin. Eric sat down.
“I just don’t understand what I am doing wrong? I spend a bunch of time with her, I try to include her in things I like, but also try to take interest in what she does. Am I too immature? James always says I am immature. Maybe I just need to be more mature, wait no… I think I know what to do now. Actually, yeah! I do know what to do! You Frenchies are better than people say, thanks!” Eric jumped up and ran off.
The Frenchie sat there and sighed, “La gaffe ne m’a pas payé.” And he left to go home.
Eric came back to his house and went into his room, much happier than he had been in a long time. He finally felt like himself again, and he had a plan to fix everything.
James and Margaret were having a great time. Talking about all the crazy things they had been through, carefully avoiding mention of the carnival, and waiting for their food.
“You know, Margaret? I always feel so much more at ease around you, I’m not sure what it is,” he laughed, but Margaret became suddenly quiet.
“James, I think we should talk.”
“What are we doing right now? Sorry, that was sassy.”
“I mean about something a little more serious.”
“Thank goodness, the food is here!” James watched the waiter make his way over, and Margaret watched James. The food was set on the table.
“This is really serious James,” Margaret pressed on.
“Anything else I can get you?” the waiter asked.
James froze, ice seemed to drip down his spine; that voice, he knew that voice.
“You see James, I have been noticing some things,” Margaret continued, but James couldn’t hear her, he slowly raised his head to look at the waiter. Hardly breathing, he saw the face, but it had a moustache and dark glasses. It couldn’t be Store-Clerk… I just couldn’t be. But, when the waiter twisted to leave, James could see the magenta eye colour behind the glasses. It was Store-Clerk! Panic welled inside of him, this night had to go perfect, how could that guy be everywhere?
“… So what do you think James?” James looked back to see Margaret was crying. “Don’t look at me like that, James. I am sorry, I just think that this is the best.”
“What?” asked James, trying to shift his attention away from Store-Clerk.
She sniffled, and ate some of her steak. James had no idea what was going on, he saw the Store-Clerk going around to other tables, but it seemed he was watching them. “What is happening?” James whispered to himself.
“I am sorry James, I know this must be confusing, but I really think it is for the best.”
“I honestly have no idea what is going on!”
“Don’t yell at me! It hurts me just as much as it does you.”
“What does?!”
Margaret stood and grabbed her jacket, then started to leave.
“Where are you going Margaret, what happened?” He got up to follow her, but a small figure blocked his way, he looked down to see Store-Clerk there.
“Ugh, you,” James said with open disgust, this guy had ruined his night again. “Get out of my way, I need to talk to Margaret.”
“I know you are working with him.”
“Is this that green fish thing again? I am not evil! How many times do I have to say that?”
“I need you to stay away from Margaret.”
“Margaret can make her own decisions, get out of my way.” James pushed past him and headed out into the street. He could see her a little ways away, and it didn’t take him long to catch up with her. “Margaret, what is going on?”
“I am sorry, James, but I really think it is best if we break up.”
“What?!”
“I told you back in the restaurant. You must have blocked it out.”
“W-w-why?”
“I just don’t think we’re working out.” She started to cry again, and walked away.
James didn’t stop her, he didn’t know if he should.
“I have an announcement.” Eric paced back and forth across the living room; James and Lydia sat on the couch in front of him. James was pale and shaking, like he was about to die; Eric wasn’t too worried. Lydia was sitting straight and looking lovely. “Lydia, I think there needs to be a change in our relationship.”
He didn’t notice her smile of triumph. “I think so too Eric,” she said sweetly.
“Alright, here it is. You are lovely, and amazing, and you make me want to be someone I’m not.” She looked mildly confused, but was still smiling. “So here it is, Lydia, I want to break up with you.”
Flaming Chickens 
I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!
LikeLiked by 1 person