Family members struggle to get along in an area where no space can be accumulated.
Meet the Blazers. They're a bunch of family members struggling to get along in an area with no space. Would you blame 'em? Joe Blazer is trying all his best to try to talk sense into these people. Will it work? Will it fail? Read this topsy-turvy comedy to find out!
Hello. My name is Joe Blazer. I'm a male pegasus. I live with a large family up in Manehattan, with 16 people. Yes, the children count in that total. I have 5 kids running amok. Their names are Lacy, Timmy, Maxie, Adam, and Eddie. And I'm the one who got my wife into having them all. Me and my horse---
''Why the heck do you want to bring THAT thing up anyway?'' my wife asked me in this introduction to my life. I sigh and I tell her, ''Whatever.''
Well, now it's six o'clock. The Manehattan Eye Exam is at my doorstep. I write for that paper. I write about whatever takes place down on Bridleway. My wife doesn't give a damn about that, but I do.
My kids are already out of bed and roughhousing. My two gals are playing with their pony toys, while my guys are playing with their robot toys. Transformers, they call 'em. As one of my gals is combing a pony toy, in comes one of the boys to stack a Transformer on top of that pony's stable. That gal then throws that goddamn robot toy off the toy stable. The boy proceeds to put the stupid robot thing on top of the stupid pony thing in a manner that suggests that they really like to make ---
''Shut up Joe. Now let's go downstairs. Breakfast is ready.''
UGH! Fine, Marta. You win.
In case you don't know, Marta Vladim-Blazinsky is the little Jewish mare that I, the little Jewish stallion named Joseph Edward Blazinsky, married one fine little evening in 1976. Down the stairs I go singing Hava nagila, hava nagila, hava nagila . . .
Our family's breakfast is the typical Scrambled Eggs and No Bacon type. We're not allowed to eat ham, and bacon is ham at least to us. It's funny because Paul McCartney, whom I very well like, once had Scrambled Eggs in mind while trying to write the song ''Yesterday.''
''Uh sir . . . that's very off-topic''.
Marta, please.
''Mmm! This is quite nice!'' So says Marta's little grandma Susannah. ''How did you come up with this?''
I said, ''Like you don't know how Scrambled Eggs are made. Well, first you crack two eggs wide open and put them into the frying pan, and next you -- ''
In comes Marta's mama Natasha to say ''Explain how they are made in a simple detail.''
I say, ''That's what I'm doing.''
Natasha says, ''It's not simple enough.''
I say, ''What I'm doing, Natasha, is explaining the situation in as simple a detail as I can tell it.''
Natasha says, ''Yeah right. All you're doing is taking unnecessarily long descriptions of what you do and selling it as simple details.''
I try to eat my breakfast as fast as I can. By now, I'm done arguing with her and that's what I tell her. The kids are off to school and I am off to The Manehattan Eye Exam.
''What the heck is The Manehattan Eye Exam?'' asks my wife.
I tell them, ''It's the paper that I work for, remember Marta?''
Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it's off to work I go, to The Manehattan Eye Exam, heigh-ho, heigh-ho, heigh-ho, heigh - - -
Oops, I sung a little too loudly to that little Disney piece that I put on my cassette deck in my Volvo. That's why all the cars had to go toot-toot in the background. If the cars can't stand my singing, they have no business on my road.
One of the drivers is probably saying, ''Ya little hack, get off my side of the road!''
Anyways, my car is now grounded and parked firmly at The Manehattan Eye Exam. It's basically a snooper's paradise, in which I'm quite proud to live.
The Manehattan Eye Exam's head publisher is Dick L. Saqua who is an Earth pony. Saqua says, ''GOOD MORNING SIR!''
I tell him, ''What's so good about it?''
He says, ''I got a good little scoop for ya buddy!''
i tell him, ''What?'' and he says, ''Buddy did you ever hear somebody bring up Countess Coloratura recently?''
I say, ''What about her?''
He says, ''Countess Coloratura is arriving at the Grand Palace on Thursday. As you're a music and Bridleway writer, would you like to write a critique about her?''
I say, ''How many people do I have to bring at once?''
He says, ''Only you, your pen, and your notepad.''
I say, ''But isn't it a family concert? I mean I could bring as many as eight people over to it --- ''
He says, ''I want you to come ALONE. Get that?''
I shudder and gulp and say, ''Y-y-y-yes sir.''
Then I fly off to bump into Countess Coloratura herself and then tell her, ''Hello. My name is Joe Blazer. I write for this little paper whose building you're in right now.''
The Countess says, ''Why the heck is that important to begin with?''
I say, ''Because the head of the paper wants me to write about you. I've got sixteen people living in my crowded little house, OK? But that guy wants me to only come alone, with a pen and paper in my hooves.''
The Countess says, ''That's foolhardy. You can bring as many people with you as you like; the theatre limits 10 members per family however.''
I say, ''Well tell him so.''
The Countess says, ''I'll make sure I do!''
The Countess goes off to talk to Mr. Saqua about the dilemna I have; unfortunately, Mr. Saqua is quick to dismiss it, and says, ''Mr. Blazer needs only to come alone to your concert.'' Then she talks about the welcoming presence she showcases at her concerts, with Mr. Saqua quick to dismiss THAT, too. Poor Mr. Saqua. I have a crowded house, and he doesn't even know HOW crowded it is. *sigh*
I say, ''Countess Coloratura! She's coming to the Grand Palace up in central Manehattan on Thursday! She wants up a lot of ponies showing up to her concert -- ''
''Hold on, hold, on, oy, oy, oy, Joey boy, a lot of ponies? That's too much for us.''
''C'mon Pa. The theatre she's playing at is only letting in 10 per family and our house is crowded as it is! I'd say, let's have 8 people come with me to the concert.''
''Son, all we gotta do is talk about family management.''
''No, you see, Countess Coloratura fought her way through the paper that I work for and the paper guy said that I could bring half my family over. Now pa, what's half of 16?''
''Uh . . . 8?''
''Exactly. I want 8 of you to come with me and I want 8 of you to stay in the house for the night.''
''How much does the concert cost?'' asks one of my kids, Eddie.
I say, ''5 bits apiece.''
Pa sighs and says, ''Oh, OK. You win.''
REHEARSAL ROOM 13 GRAND PALACE MANEHATTAN
Countess Coloratura cracks her hands and starts playing her prized possession other than her voice: a grand piano. Tentatively, she sings:
Arrivederci Roma, Goodbye, goodbye to Rome . . .
City of a million moonlit places, City of a million warm embraces, Where I found the one of all the faces, Far from home!
In comes a noted fan, Crescendo Hearts. Mrs. Hearts asks the singer, ''What a lovely song you are playing!''
Coloratura smiles and explains, ''Well, it's a favorite of my heritage.''
Mrs. Hearts quips, ''And what would that heritage be?''
Coloratura says, ''Mrs. Hearts, your husband Sunburst is an Italian, right?'' Mrs. Hearts nods, and Coloratura says, ''Well, he happens to have a lot in common with me, because as some of you know, I'm also an Italian.''
Mrs. Hearts says, ''So technically both of you happen to be familiar with that song.''
''Oh yes we are. Say, your husband isn't busy on Thursday, is he?''
''No.''
''Good. I'd like him to sing it at my concert. I can play piano and he can sing. Besides, I heard him sing in his room once and would you like to know what I thought of his voice at the time?''
''What did you think of it?''
''I thought it was an amazing voice. He's such a talented singer. In fact, I consider him to have much more of a singing than a magical talent. He admits to not having much of a magical talent after all.''
Crescendo Hearts chuckles, and says, ''Ah yes. That Sunburst. He's just a lovely man to hear isn't he? And that song is SO so perfect for him!'' then states, ''So have you heard the news regarding your concert?''
''What's the news?'' Coloratura replies.
Replies Mrs. Hearts, ''Somebody at The Manehattan Eye Exam says that he's gonna bring 8 ponies, including himself, to your concert that evening. He says that that's half of the 16 ponies that are in his incredibly crowded house. In fact, it's so crowded that I could hear some of his family members at crosstalk over the phone.''
''Ah yes. He told this to me too. He wrote to me, 'my family lives in a crowded house. I can't just bring myself, with you saying you encourage a lot of ponies to come to this concert of yours. I have decided to bring just half the family to it. Do you agree to this plan?'''
Mrs. Hearts says, ''Well, he's just gonna have to sort his whole problem out by himself.''
One of my kids, Adam, is playing a game on one of our many TV sets. It's a game about some pony who flies through rivers and whatever. Yes, THAT'S what makes my house even more crowded than it should be. We bought so many TV sets. We have 5 in all! Anyway, it's 7:30 at night so I go in the little kid's room and tell him it's a school night and that it really IS time to go to bed. Promptly he refuses to follow my instructions; in fact he barely does follow them until we get to 7:40 at night and he finally surrenders to me.
7:30 - I call out, ''Adam, time for bed. Adam? Adam?'' 7:35 - I call out, ''Adam, come on, it's a school night. That little river-jumping pony can sit on her tuchus until tomorrow. Meanwhile all YOU need to do is get to be well-rested like the other kids that I put to bed already.'' 7:40 - After a few unneeded minutes of shouting off the top of my lungs, Adam pathetically sighs, says ''Whatever, dad'', and shuts the console off. By this point all the kiddies had their bath, brushed their teeth, and were put in bed. Except for Adam, so all I have to do is make him do all that.
At school the next day, Adam and some of his little friends sit down and have a talk with each other.
Adam says, ''Guess what my dad is doing this Thursday night?'' One of his friends, an Italian unicorn named Ricky, says ''What is it?'' Adam says, ''He's taking me to see Countess Coloratura LIVE IN CONCERT!!!'' Another of his friends, a Latin pegasus named Deanna, says, ''Really? Countess Coloratura? Ah, what a pony!'' Adam says, ''Yeah, yeah, yeah, but that isn't all. For you see, it's taking place right across the street from this school, at the Grand Palace.'' Deanna is like, ''YAY! SHE'S SINGING IN A GRAND PALACE!'' Adam says, ''Me and 3 other of my daddy's kids is coming along with four adults, including my daddy.'' Deanna says, ''That's lovely! You all get to see Countess Coloratura in all her magical glory! Ah, yes! She has a beautiful voice!'' Adam says, ''Yeah, yeah, yeah.''
Bell rings and it's time for them all to re-enter class. The kids are now firmly seated and now, all the other ones with the idea of Countess Coloratura singing live in concert implanted in their little heads, write all about THAT instead of what they are supposed to be writing about, something on the EBC about the Bermuda Triangle, which all MY kids write about. Unsurprisingly, most of the other students got an F for their ''essays'' on the Bermuda Triangle, which either involved Countess Coloratura performing in that Triangle (which she technically shouldn't because it's too dangerous) or performing in another venue. Poor Adam should've realized that he and my other kids are in a class full of easily distracted students; alas, he didn't and this is the result. He and my other kids did better on their studies about the Bermuda Triangle than the other kids, all because they wrote about Countess Coloratura in and out of the Bermuda Triangle in one way or the other.
At 2:15 PM in this afternoon on the day before I go to that concert, and I'm sitting at the Grand Palace waiting for someone to say, ''Hello, Countess Coloratura would like to see you now.''
Meanwhile, I'm stuck in the waiting room of the Palace, and bored to death listening to their radio, which is tuned to that station that plays nothing but old things all day long. Not that I don't like its brand of music. I do. A lot. But when you have an important assignment on your hands, the last thing you want to do is sit in the waiting room for so long that you now hear somebody singing the very same song that somebody else sang 2 minutes ago!!
And then it happened. Just as ol' Pat Boone was about to break into the third verse of that God-forsaken song, in comes the announcer to say over the intercom, ''Hello, Mr. Joe Blazer, Countess Coloratura would like to see you right now.'' I've been here for an hour now! I'm glad that I can't sit here any longer because the radio said it would next play a song some little jerk sang about roses.
Sure enough, Countess was all smiles when she saw me, but somebody else wasn't looking too happy. Yes, I'm talking about that old boss from the Eye Exam.
''So . . . I heard this gal told ya to tote half your family along to her concert, huh?''
''Uh . . . yes.''
''SIR! That's taking my whole statement - the one about just bringing your pen and paper - IN COMPLETE AND UNDENIABLE VAIN. I don't care if this low-lifed deviant told you to break my rules because of your stupid troubles, all I'm gonna say is, we're gonna a long long talk with ourselves following the concert that's being hosted by this dunce tomorrow.''
I was horrified by what he had said not only about me, but also about Countess Coloratura. She was clearly NOT low-lifed, NOR a deviant, NOR a dunce! She was a well-bred, highly skilled, highly talented, highly intelligent mare, and all Mr. Saqua had to do in front of the both of us is hurt our feelings for no good reason.
I gained my comfort from this lady, who said to me: ''Joe . . . this guy doesn't care about you or your job. He just cares about the number of bits in his wallet. I dunno how many knots his head is tangled in, but there seem to be a lot of knots. He's a complete and total jerk and you don't deserve to spend the rest of your God-given life with that man.''
I said ''Y'know what, you're right. On Friday, I'm gonna quit this paper that I work for the amount of time left before he gets fired or something.''
Tonight's that big night, the night where Countess Coloratura sings at that Grand Palace in Manehattan. That concert starts at 6:00, and now it's 5:00 and time I get in my car. As you'd suspect, I don't just bring my pen and paper, y'know. I bring in 8 of my family members (my five kids, plus Marta and her mother and her father) and 40 bits at hand because one ticket to the concert costs 5 bits, and we all know what 8 times 5 equals, right?
In the car, we play a few songs on my cassette player, all arrangements by that guy who corks champagne bottles all the time. We know the lyrics to a few of them: ''Wonderful! Wonderful!'', ''Don't Think Twice, It's All Right'', ''Wives and Lovers'', ''Fools Rush In'' and ''Blue Velvet''. Largely because of this, we sing along to their melodies as they come through our car speakers.
Now we are at the Grand Palace, and we approach that guy at the ticket booth, giving him two 20-bit bills. The guy says, ''OK! Good to go to the show! You're keeping the 10 Members per Family limit we have, right?''
''Yes I am.''
''OK. Good.''
The show proudly begins as a salute to her heritage (she's an Italian, as you know). She allows Babs Seed to conduct her orchestra into a piece called ''Funiculi, Funicula''; she's an expert conductor and plus, she has my family's religion! But that's not the point. The point is she invites the whole audience to sing with her (and some clap and sing along): Some think the world is made for fun and frolic, And so do I! And so do I! Some think it well to be all melancholic, To pine and sigh; to pine and sigh; But we'd now like to spend our time in singing, Some joyous song, some joyous song, To set the air with music bravely ringing Is far from wrong! Is far from wrong! Harken, harken, music sounds a-far! Harken, harken, with a happy heart! Funiculì, funiculà, funiculì, funiculà! Joy is everywhere, funiculì, funiculà!
Those same lyrics are repeated for two full minutes and THEN she ends the song.
We were all off at the concert, and we left behind eight old Blazers, consisting of Susannah, my mother Carol, my father Martin, my grandpa Larry, my grandma Jackie, Alexander, Gregory, and Sophia. Bored spending after a 30-minute dinner watching an old Andy Williams program, Larry asks if the rest of the people we left behind could treat ourselves to a game of pool. All the men are naturally happy about this idea, but the ladies all sigh. Carol says, ''Pool, whatever that is, isn't our kind of game. We're grannies. We should be playing bingo.''
Larry says, ''OK. We grandpas are gonna play some pool. You grandmas are gonna play some bingo. It's settled!''
The men cue up an old Glenn Miller album on the turntable and go right off into pool. Round one and Alexander's got one of those eight-balls. And he happens to hit the top one and he scores with a lot of balls pocketed all at once. Next goes Gregory, with the eight-balls having been re-assembled, but he proves to be quite weak at pocketing pool balls. Larry's up next with all the re-assembled balls and he's doing a wee bit better at pocketing them, and then Martin comes out and does about as well as the last guy. Alexander won this round and they all gather around him and cheer as the old ladies of the house that play bingo watch and scoff.
Speaking of the old ladies, they're really scoring at this old game of poker! Carol has won her game and it took her only 7 minutes to do so! To celebrate her win, she yells out, BINGO! Needless to say, the other three mares basically just stare at her.
Meanwhile, back at the concert, Countess Coloratura announces that she will next sing a great Italian ballad in that particular nature (of course WE know this particular song as ''Come Back to Sorrento'', but that's not the point. The point is that, well, I very well sense that Coloratura feels quite comfortable singing a song from the language of her blood in the language of her blood. That's got to be the loveliest sight I've seen at the concert so far especially given her star status. And I'm writing all that down on my paper - I can write, but I can't open my mouth up unless she wants me to, remember?)
Round 2 of the men's pool game is in session and Larry is at the table again. It's another 8-baller and, with all his luck and all his might, he SCORES AT IT! All the other stallions clap and now it's Alex's turn at the table, and, he finds the top ball and - - BAM! He pockets all them in there! What a player, the other stallions shout as Gregory takes to the table. Yet another 8-baller that he fails at. Now, Martin returns with another shot at the 8-ballers, and it's another time he gives them another BAM! As the next Glenn Miller track gets cued up, all the stallions crowd around each other, give themselves handshakes, and hug each other pretty hard. And one of the old mares, who's trying to concentrate on another BINGO round, looks at them with contempt. ''Men'', she sighs.
Meanwhile, back at the concert, again, it's been a half-hour and The Countess showstops with a tango-flavored rendition of ''O Sole Mio'', which she sings passionately and which Babs seems to enjoy conducting; Babs is one of my old buddies. And there's that comfort I sensed and wrote about from earlier in the show.
That same comfort is felt yet again in the next song of the show, which is ''Santa Lucia'', in which she sings in Italian accompanied only by her superb piano playing. Well, Countess Coloratura is Italian, which I know for a fact, which makes that particular comfort easy to understand.
The third round of the men's game is called a Bank Pool, where you have to be be the first player to bank five balls in any order. And they're ordered in a way that resembles a typical household basically.
This is the kind of game that requires participation from all the teammates, and so everybody on the team gets to play in this round. And the winner, once again, is Martin. He pockets them all perfectly, all in one round. Then another Glenn Miller thing starts up.
Similar case with Round 4 which is the same round as earlier, except it's Alex who scores at it.
And the stallions all crowd around each other and cheer again, once again, to the contempt of yet another of the old BINGO-concentrating mares.
Well, that mare's concert's about to end, it's been an hour, but definitely didn't feel like one. It could've gone on forever and it would still feel like a few minutes of time well spent with that mare. That's all I wrote down. I wrote down a great review of that concert.
Anyway, the Countess concludes her show with a powerhouse repeat of the song ''Funiculi, Funicula''. And just as the chorus around her begins to repeat the title of the song a few times she says, ''HEY EVERYBODY! DON'T JUST SIT THERE IN THE CROWD! COME ON, UP YOU GO! JOIN ME AND SING ALONG!'' and they all get up and do that. What a great woman, and what a great encouragement of audience participation she has.
Well, we arrive back home at 7:20. We're greeted by Carol, whom I brought up earlier. She says, ''Y'know, Joe? It's a school night. I'm glad you and they had their fun but it really IS time for them to go to bed. Up they go into bed.''
Then she looks at the clock. ''How did these kids ever manage to have dinner tonight?''
I say, ''We ordered from the drive-thru. It's some burgers and fries, nothing more.''
''Hello, Joe, how are ya?'' greets one of the Manehattan Eye Exam workers as I head off to work on Friday. I'm off to Mr. Saqua's office now. But, bear with me, Mr. Saqua isn't too happy with what I did even though my review's been published for all of Manehattan to see.
''LISTEN UP JOE! 40 bits?! 40 GODDAMN BITS ON THAT CRUD?''
''It wasn't crud. It was great.''
Mr. Saqua didn't seem to think so, and thus said to me, ''Kid, you weren't allowed to bring ANYBODY but yourself to that concert. It's our company policy, remember?''
''Um . . . um . . . WHAT'S WRONG WITH BRINGING THE FAMILY OVER?! If Countess Coloratura doesn't mind my doing so, why do you?''
''GRR! Because it's our company policy! We're loners, so you should be one too.''
Mr. Saqua goes on, ''Mr. Blazinsky . . . ''
''Blazer.''
'' . . . whatever, YOU'RE FIRED! And don't ever to seek employment around here again. And as for that thing you wrote, I'm gonna tell all my staff to stop printing it.''
Horrified at Mr. Saqua's move, I stand on the paper's courtyard outside the building itself. Watching all the cars and ponies go by, I sing a melody out of Stephen Sondheim's songbook called ''Send In The Clowns''.
Then one of the cars stops, neatly parked near the building. It's Countess Coloratura. Countess is like ''What happened with you?''
''I was fired from that building for spending 40 bits on your wonderful show.''
''You have a great voice, Mr. Blazer. You'd be a great star. Anyways, I thought about your whole situation, having a crowded house and thought about helping out with your problem. Meet me at my house later tonight.''
Looking around the room, Countess Coloratura comments: ''Wow. you got so many things here. You got a lot of kids, I know but look at this, TV's, VCRs, video games, turntables, beds, closets, everything crammed in one house. No wonder it's crowded.''
I say, ''Well, that's the problem. Where am I gonna put all this?''
Countess replies, ''My best solution is to get a new house. Think about it. Half of you can live in this house, half of you can live in the other house. There's really no opportunity to miss!''
I say, ''i guess there isn't - - hey! Wait! Another house? But I don't feel like that could make me see enough of the kids!''
The countess says, ''You won't miss them. They'll just be waiting in that other house.''
I say, ''But how are you gonna afford to give me another house just to see how my family will do in it?!''
The countess says, ''Simple. I had to earn enough and sell enough to come up with that idea. I mean, I have 500 million bits in my pocket these days. The job of financing my little idea costs 300,000 bits. And to think, when I got my cutie mark at camp for doing what I did at camp, I had virtually NOTHING!''
I say, ''Well, fair enough.''
After thinking it through I say, ''If you can afford to build us an extra house, I can afford to build us an extra house. It's a deal, Countess.''
She says, ''I'd like to thank you for agreeing to it. It's a pleasure working with you Mr. Blazer. And maybe while we're at it, I might find room to finance your singing career. You DO have a beautiful voice, like I've already said.''
Then it's off to look for contractors to help build that gosh-darn house.
One morning, I'm watching television. I see a commercial come on the set. It's for one notable contractor. The person in that commercial is the head of the company that would build houses. She seems relatively calm and stoic.
Hello.
I'm Margaret Algorithm.
I am the head of Algorithm Contractors Limited.
Are you or your family members struggling to get along in an area that lacks in space? [at which point I yell at the TV, quote ''YES WE ARE!'']
Algorithm Contractors Limited can give half of your family a new house for under 300 bits, whether it'd be 2 of 4, 5 of 10, or even as far as 10 of 20. We're located at 18 East Gable Avenue in Manehattan. And you can call us at 500 555 116. We'll be happy to see you!
[Mrs. Algorithm sings] Wunderbar, wunderbar! Algorithm Contractors Limited builds your house from top to bottom in a manner so wunderbar!
Countess and I arrive at Algorithm Contractors Limited, and promptly enter the building. There we meet Margaret Algorithm there to see us.
We hear the distinct, familiar air of ''Tie A Yellow Ribbon'' at mid-level volume in the background. I ask Mrs. Algorithm what it's by. She says, ''It's a recording done up by Babs Seed, one of my favourite singers.''
I say, ''Oh, OK.''
After 12 seconds I say, ''We got a problem.''
Margie turns to me and says, ''What's the problem?''
I say, ''Well, it's the problem addressed in your little TV commercial: we have a crowded family.''
Margie says, ''Ah. Well, let's see . . . how crowded is your house exactly?''
I say, ''Quite crowded. We have 16 family members in our pegasi family, and this house can house only room for 8 ponies.''
Margie says, ''Hrm . . . I say, give us 150 bits and we'll be on your way.''
I say, ''150 bits? I don't have that kind of money!''
The Countess says, ''I do'' and pays her 150 bits. I breathe a sigh of relief at that. For a minute I thought I was getting sent to the poorhouse.
Margaret and a real fleet of ponies drove over to my house the next morning. Margaret knocked on my door. Countess had been busy reading one of my wife's magazines, ''Star Power'', and said, ''Joe, there's somebody at the door.''
I responded. It was Margaret, to be redundant. She said, ''Hello Joe. We've begun work on your new, um, half a house.'' Imagine my delight!
I told her, ''How many folks does it take to build one?''
She said, ''About 5 to 6. I got plenty a busy body.''
I said, ''You're gonna need one to build any kind of house, big or small!''
She chuckled and noticed a huge pile of stuff from my one house had been stacked in the backyard. She asked the construction workers to slowly and carefully get everything in that yard into this new house she built for half my family. They promptly did just that. So they got the two TVs, and the several dozens of records and two phonos and some other things and they took them into the new house.
The whole construction of the house took 3 hours. The time it took to get all that we had in the yard in was a half hour.
By the time it was late afternoon, Margaret knocked on my door again. I answered.
Margaret said, ''All done!''
I said, ''What's all done?''
Margaret replied, ''Your other house. Have your whole family take a look at it!''
So we all got outside and saw a giant, well-decorated house right next to ours. We were wowed and amazed. My father said, ''Ma'am, how much does it take to build something like this?''
Margaret replies, ''That's a 300 bit job.''
My father, horrified, replied, ''A 300 BIT JOB?!?! How did my kid get the money to do this?''
I said, ''Correction, how did this lady get the money to do this?''
Of course, we turned around and looked at Countess Coloratura. We all grinned. My father told her, ''Mazel Tov! You solved our huge problem all along! How can we ever repay ya baby?''
The Countess blushed. She said, ''How about an autographed copy of my new album, The Bright Lights? I can sign one for every member of your family! Just meet me at the Castle in Upper Manehattan this Tuesday!''
Joe Blazer recorded the album ''Love 89'' which Countess Coloratura's label, CBS, successfully advertised via TV. The Countess subsequently signed Blazer to said label, where he recorded one album and three singles. When they flopped, Joe went back to writing. He now writes for the Foal Free Press.
Joe encouraged his kids to get involved in music. The collective 12 children have formed their new music group, Maximum. We may see them hit the charts in the future.
Margaret Algorithm and her company continues building houses for mid-to-low-income families to this day.
The rest of his family members possibly don't need any explanation
Countess Coloratura definitely needs no explanation.