The Parker family and the Wells family combined : Episode Seven Act I: The Curiosity of a Cousin

## The Parker family and the Wells family combined : Episode Seven ### Act I: The Curiosity of a Cousin The commotion inside the soft blueberry hedge was continuing to attract a small crowd of amused celestial residents. The brilliant blue-stained legs of Mr. Moose, also known as George Garfield, were still kicking wildly in the air while his ankle-halo flashed like a tiny lightbulb. Tyras, D.A., Aunt Shirline, Sylvia Wells, and Noriko Parker were practically doubled over on the cobblestone path, their angel wings shaking with unstoppable laughter. Walking down the avenue at that exact moment was Ruth Naomi Harrison. Ruth was a radiant angel whose white wings shimmered with a soft, pearlescent glaze, her golden halo sitting perfectly level above her neatly styled hair. Ruth was the niece of Prince Parker, which made her the cousin of Amin, Rasheem, and Princess Parker. Because Noriko was the granddaughter of Amin Parker, this meant Ruth and Noriko were cousins by bloodline, connected deeply through the extensive Parker family tree. Hearing the absolute uproar of laughter and the muffled, slurred complaints echoing from the shrubbery, Ruth’s curiosity was instantly sparked. She adjusted her robe and glided over toward the group, her eyes wide with amusement. "What in the kingdom is going on over here?" Ruth asked, a giant smile breaking across her face as she reached the perimeter of the blueberry patch. "Noriko! Is someone trapped in the landscaping?" Noriko wiped a tear of pure comedy from her eye, waving her hand toward the bush. "Ruth! Oh, you came at the perfect time! It’s Mr. Moose! My Aunt Shirline and the Wells family came to check up on him, and he’s been on a comedic tirade for the last thirty minutes. He just tried to perform a 'majestic leap' and completely missed the runway!" Right on cue, the branches rustled violently. Mr. Moose managed to shimmy his torso backward, pulling his head out of the hedge. His entire face, robe, and hair were completely smeared with bright purple and blue fruit juice. A single large, intact blueberry was perched directly inside his left nostril, and his wobbly halo had slid down from his ear to sit perfectly around his neck like a glowing necktie. He blinked heavily at Ruth, his expression instantly shifting into a look of dramatic, slurred seriousness as he pulled himself up to a sitting position on the grass. "Whoa... hup... hold everything! Who invited the grand inspector?" Mr. Moose announced, pulling at his sticky collar with a grand, theatrical flourish. "I tell ya, I get no respect in this neighborhood! Absolutely no respect! I was having a perfectly quiet, private lunch inside this nutritional fortress, and suddenly the paparazzi show up! My luck is so bad, if I bought a pumpkin farm, they’d pass a law outlawing pies! The nerve of some people!" ### Act II: The Interrogation of the Wobbly Legend Ruth Naomi Harrison couldn't help but chuckle at the sheer ridiculousness of the sight. Instead of backing away, she stepped right up to the edge of the grass, crossing her arms with an amused, inquisitive look. She decided to join in on the encounter, not as a comedian herself, but simply as a curious observer asking him direct questions to see what wild answers he would come up with. "Alright, Mr. Moose," Ruth questioned him, her voice dripping with playful curiosity. "If you're such a sophisticated inspector, let me ask you a question. Why exactly were you sleeping upside down against your own front door this morning?" Mr. Moose staggered to his feet, leaning so heavily to the left that D.A. had to quickly extend a wing to block him from falling right back into the hedge. George gripped his glowing tie-halo for support, slurring his words beautifully. "Why was I upside down? Because my posture is too advanced for regular architecture, lady!" Mr. Moose shouted, gesturing wildly with his blue-stained hands. "I tell ya, I get no respect! I went to a high-end celestial furniture store last Tuesday—or maybe it was a century ago, who's counting! I told the clerk angel, 'Hey, this recliner is completely defective! Every time I sit in it, my feet go higher than my thoughts!' The guy looks at me and says, 'Sir, you are sitting in a shopping cart!' Can you believe that? The absolute disrespect to an intellectual!" The entire group erupted into another wave of laughter. Noriko was leaning against Ruth’s shoulder, her wings flapping uncontrollably. "George, please," Aunt Shirline pleaded, stepping forward with a soft cloth she had produced from her robe, trying to wipe some of the blueberry juice off his forehead. "We are just trying to get you into the house safely. Let's walk toward the door." "Get me into the house? I can't go in there, Shirline!" Mr. Moose slurred, dodging her hand with a clumsy, comical sidestep that resulted in him doing a slow-motion spin on the cobblestones. "The kitchen is completely haunted by my own past choices! I tried to boil water yesterday morning. I followed the instructions perfectly, but three hours later, the water was completely gone! I called the local culinary department to file a major complaint. The angel on the line asks me, 'George, did you put a lid on the pot?' I told him, 'Hey, I’m an artist, I don't believe in boundaries!' My mind is like a steel trap, I tell ya—it just snaps shut when nothing is passing through it!" Sylvia Wells shook her head, trying to take his right arm while Tyras took his left. "Come on, George. Just take one steady step forward. Just one." Mr. Moose lifted his foot high in the air, completely miscalculated the level ground, and accidentally executed a bizarre, marching stomp that brought his shoe down directly onto a stray paper cup on the path. The cup crumpled with a loud crunch, and George froze, staring down at his foot in absolute horror as if he had just triggered a mechanical trap. "Aha! Caught in the act!" Mr. Moose yelled, pointing a trembling finger at Tyras. "I’m telling ya, the ground is completely uneven in this sector! I went to an eye doctor down on Earth once. I told him, 'Doc, every time I look down, everything is completely blurry!' He looks at my face, checks my charts, and says, 'George, try taking your sunglasses off before you take a shower!' No respect at all! The guy charged me full price for a piece of advice I could have gotten from a mirror!" ### Act III: The Never-Ending Routine D.A. Wells stepped in front of him, his golden halo shining with absolute amusement as he tried to guide the wobbly comedian up the alabaster steps of the mansion. "George, your house is right here. Look at the door. We just want to make sure everything is going smoothly for you inside." "Smoothly? Nothing goes smoothly for George Garfield!" Mr. Moose chuckled, his voice dropping into a rapid-fire, rhythmic delivery as he leaned his back against D.A.’s shoulder for support. "I tried to paint a self-portrait in my living room yesterday. I spent four hours working on the chin alone. I took a step back to admire my masterpiece, and I realized I’d been painting the back of the canvas the whole time! I tell ya, I went to a local library in the city district last week to find a book on how to be organized. The lady at the desk says, 'Sure, it’s in the non-fiction section.' I asked her where that section was, and she says, 'We don't know, we lost the map!' No respect! The whole system is completely upside down!" Ruth Naomi Harrison was practically in tears, her hand over her mouth as she watched the five angels form a protective, laughing barrier around the staggering legend, trying to shepherd him up the stairs like a chaotic parade. "He is absolutely unbelievable, Noriko," Ruth whispered through her giggles. "He has an answer for everything!" "Every single thing!" Noriko laughed, helping Sylvia support his loose robe as Mr. Moose stumbled over the top step, his ankle-halo rattling against the stone. "Watch the feathers, folks! These are custom-made!" Mr. Moose slurred, his face bright red as he finally reached his front door. He turned around to face his family and his new interrogator, trying to give a grand, sophisticated farewell bow. He leaned forward, forgot to stop leaning, and his forehead tapped gently against the solid wood of the door frame with a soft clack. He didn't even flinch, keeping his eyes wide as he looked through his skewed halo. "I tell ya, the entrance to this mansion keeps moving when I'm not looking! But remember this, family—my doctor on Earth once told me that laughter is the best medicine. I told him that was great, because his bill was a complete joke! No respect at all! Goodnight to the afternoon!" With one final, uncoordinated push, Tyras turned the doorknob, and the five of them gently guided Mr. Moose over the threshold into his beautiful alabaster living room, where he promptly slid onto a plush velvet sofa, closing his eyes with a huge, blue-stained grin. The comedic mayhem had finally paused, leaving the combined Parker and Wells families standing on the porch, exhausted from laughter but completely united in the joy of eternity.