Susan P. Stinsky, or Stick Stinsky as she was better known, sat in her regular spot on the gym floor for which she was named, gawking lustfully up at the decadent cheerleaders flying overhead. How beautiful they looked in their brightly colored uniforms and ribbon-adorned pigtails bobbing elegantly from side-to-side. Surely they were as gods who lead the fawning crowd with such verve and cheer. Susan wondered if Caesar himself could have boasted such excited loyalty, even at the height of his glory. How could it be that she had not been asked to join the ranks of this exquisite sorority?
No one could deny that Susan looked that part. She had the iconic long glossy hair, which she deep conditioned every Sunday, precisely at 3:33 am, in a formula of her own devising comprised principally of mayonnaise and Aloe Vera. Hair which could be worn high enough to bounce arabesquely, but not so high as to look neurotic. Combined with her nymphish physique and above average smile, Susie P. was cheerleading personified.
In terms of capability, again, Susan was more than qualified. She was more than competent in both front and side splits, which she practiced nightly after a hot bath when she knew her muscles would be the most limber. Also Susan had more that met the minimum for cheers memorized, having committed to memory over 150 separate cheers including the fabled “Oswego Chug.”
Of all the pep rallies, football games, and bonfires that had occurred this year (or any given year for that matter), Susie P. hadn’t missed a single one. Even when Susie was nearly killed last October by a drunken motorcyclist, she showed up for the following Friday’s big game against the Orange town Orangutans, body cast and all. Susie thought for sure that the girls would have noticed her spunk, her effort, and her love of pep by now. But they hadn’t.
“Who need’s them?” Lil’ Sally with the lazy eye would snort. “You’ve got all you need right here with your best friend, this half-full carton of booze, “Reba” on DVD, and this old Chinese food.”
“That’s easy for you to say Lil’ Sally, you’re a dead ringer for that Lazy-Eyed Narwhal mascot!” Susan hissed, then turned away and muttered to herself. “You get your panties stuck to the gym floor one time and you’re Sticky Stinsky for life.”
“There’s no need to be jealous, we can’t all be popular.” It was true; despite her lazy eye, unkempt hair, and the fact that one of her legs was slightly longer than the other, Lil’ Sally had to be the most popular girl at Westmoreland High. Susan figured that it had to be either Lil’ Sally’s confidence or impecably pristine bridgework that keep her in vogue with all the kids.
“Forget “Reba” on DVD, Lil’ Sally, just go get your best spare set of dentures and meet me in the garage, I’ve got a plan.” Susan said with a glimmer in her eye, then grabbed the half-full carton of booze and strutted confidently out of the room.
Although this request seemed mighty odd, Lil’ Sally didn’t hesitate for one second. Susan and she had been best friends for almost four and a half days now and she had never steered Lil’ Sally wrong. In fact it had been Susan’s idea in the first place to try out to be the Westmoreland Lazy-Eyed Narwhal, a move that put Lil’ Sally on the map. Whatever Susan’s plan was, it was going to be good.
Ten minutes later Lil’ Sally walked into the garage, dentures in hand, to find Susie P. lying in the center of the floor hugging an almost-empty carton of booze in one arm and eagerly waving a crimson-handled Craftsman wrench toward Lil’ Sally with the other.
“What is it, Lil’ Sally, that makes you so popular among the kids at school?’ Susan mused as she handed the wrench to her best friend.
Lil’ Sally shrugged. “Uhh… Probably either my incredible, narwhal-themed dance moves or my sparkling dentures.”
“Well which of is more popular than the others?” Susan asked then took a long swig from her carton of booze.
Lil’ Sally could tell where this was going. “Ah, you want me to teach you some of my dance moves.” Lil’ Sally grinned. Susan had always been the brains of the relationship.
“No, Lil’ Sally, I need you to remove my old, unpopular teeth with that wrench there so that I can have some nice dentures like you.” Susan stated then downed the last of her booze, laid down flat, and smiled wide.
“Oh, Susie, you’re so smart.” Lil’ Sally retorted as she wound the wrench up, high above her head. “I can’t think of a better way to get on the cheerleading squad.”
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