Gallery Opening Terror, Part 2

So, I am enjoying Smoked Gouda. And tiny crackers. They are being round. Miss Albania is calling them "water crackers", but I must be assuming it is her very poor command of English that is making her call them that, since it is being obvious that they are not being made of water.

Miss Samoa is having a most animated conversation with Miss Slovakia. Elizabeth Nkwame is looking most unsettled. She is mumbling to herself, and drinking many wine spritzers.

Suddenly, all lights are being turned off, except lights on ill-constructed stage at far end of room. I am thinking to myself, "Oh, good, perhaps this is being performance art." I am much admiring performance art. I am once seeing performance art in which woman placed chicken on her head and danced like a duck. Oh, so ironic! A commentary on our complicated times, to be sure!

Now, slowly, on ill-constructed stage at far end of room, we are seeing mysterious figure. She is wearing many veils, and a mask. She has many bracelets on arms, and a very mysterious bracelet on ankle. This mysterious bracelet on ankle has tiny flashing light, and is making a frequent beep. So odd, that bracelet on ankle.

Mysterious figure is walking across ill-constructed stage at far end of room. With flick of cruel finger she is starting tiny boom box.

I am having a memory. I am thinking this is being familiar. But I cannot remember.

There is music coming from tiny boom box. What type of music? Gypsy music!

And now, mysterious figure with bracelet on ankle begins to dance. But wait! I am recognizing dance! Oh no, it cannot be so! Oh no!

I am falling to floor, covering eyes with hands, for suddenly I am knowing the dance! We are not being at gallery opening at all! We are watching a dance!

And what dance? Oh, what dance?

I will tell you!

It is the Dance of Gypsy Vengeance!

Oh yes, the mysterious figure is beginning to twirl in the special vengeful manner of the Gypsies.

Many in the room are now weeping! Many have fallen to the floor! Ana-Elena Devescu is tearing at her hair and shrieking! Miss Albania is being unable to move, so frightened is she.

And the dance is going on! It is going on!

Suddenly, the mysterious dancer begins to dance towards me. I do not know what to be doing. Who is she? Who is this madwoman who would call down upon us the most horrible of Gypsy Dances. Who would dare to unleash this dark forces?

She is removing her mask.

Pavla Nimkova. Yes! Pavla Nimkova is inviting us all here to dance for us the Dance of Gypsy Vengeance! She is wanting Vengeance! Vengeance for Pavla!

She is dancing vengeful dance towards me. I am lying on floor, terrified for life, when suddenly I am hearing "OK, I have had just about enough of this shit"

I am lifting my head just in time to see Miss Samoa pushing Pavla Nimkova down.

"I do not have time for all of this Gypsy crap. I have a job. I have a kid to raise. I didn't get shit for being Miss Samoa, and I am not going to let some Stevie Nicks wannabe push me around. I am putting you out Pavla. Good Night!"

And with that, Miss Samoa is grabbing the bracelet of ankle of Pavla Nimkova. She is dragging Pavla Nimkova to doorway, and with heave of mighty Samoan hand, she is tossing Pavla Nimkova onto lawn.

Suddenly, there are being many sirens and alarms and much squealing of tires. Pavla Nimkova is making dash for house, but policeman with taser is getting her first. Pavla Nimkova is being down!

I am running so very quicky down to Ernesto's #2. I am ordering three rolled tacos with guacamole. They are not being as lovely as the ones Mr. Velazquez is making, but I am not caring.

Quickly, I am running back to 1515 W. Liberty.

There, Pavla Nimkova is twitching in grass. I am being worried about her. Perhaps twitching face in grass is not being comfortable?

I am walking up to Pavla Nimkova, where she is twitching.

I am kneeling down beside her. She is looking at me with pleading look, begging for help.

Tenderly, I am lifting her twitching head. Lovingly, I am laying three rolled tacos down. Gently, I am placing the face of Pavla Nimkova in tacos.

Pavla Nimkova is continuing to twitch in most horrible fashion. But I am at least feeling confident I am making her most comfortable.

Pavla Nimkova is looking up at me, she is drooling, her eyes are not focusing. And the right side of her face is being covered in guacamole.

I am bending down, and I am whispering in the ear that is not being filled with guacamole. "Oh Pavla", I am saying,

"Who has face in tacos now?"