CTS Writes

Thrilled one of my favourite fictional characters got me through to round 2 of the NYC Midnight 250 word micro-fiction challenge. The criteria were a comedy involving cheering and the word “necessary”. Round 2 was historical fiction, so I’m not holding my breath for that one, but for now, meet Marge, the oldest cheerleader in town.

HOW TO SEND OFF THE OLDEST CHEERLEADER IN TOWN

How one copes with losing their spouse depends on character. For some, it’s the beginning of the end. After Marge lost Arnold, however, something magical started.

When ninety pounds of wrinkle and purple rinse first approached a floundering cheerleading team, titters rippled through the ranks.

“We’ve got a mascot,” scoffed the coach for the Bartleby Beavers, gesturing to the oversized rodent wielding pom-poms. The old lady shook her head.

“My Arnold said he’d love to see me in cheer-leading uniform. I wanna fly! Plus I’ve got these new hips…!”

As Marge dropped into splits, the squad gasped.

“New rule, Beavers” barked the coach, handing Marge spare kit. “Lifts, stands, fine! But no tossing the pensioner!”

Marge drew crowds like the Beavers had never seen. Everyone clamoured to watch the octogenarian cheerleader atop the pyramid, high-kicking the ether with a “Hey Arnie! This one’s for you!” The tiny old-timer gave the squad new life, new hope. The sky was the limit. Until one day coach came with sad news.

Marge’s funeral commanded the biggest audience yet. Even the cemetery erected bleechers.

“Now,” announced the priest, “Bartleby Beavers will grant Marge’s final wish.”

 On cue, the squad dropped their coats, revealing the necessary spandex, and chanted “Marge! Marge! Now has flown! Greatest beaver ever known!

The strongest lifted Marge’s casket, heaving along in time.

“Gimme a three…two…one…wooooooooooooooooo!”

To an almighty cheer, the burley bases hurled Marge’s coffin up, up, up into the heavens.

The congregation prayed Marge’s beloved Arnold would catch her.