Why So Blue?

Why So Blue?
By Plot Roach

"Hey, John." I said, trying not to laugh. "Why so blue?" Then I really did bust up laughing.

"Ha Ha" He whined, trying to towel himself off. "That was so funny I forgot to laugh." he said in a tone that reminded me of a cranky seven year old boy.

It really was funny, for he was head to toe blue. Not a light blue, powder blue or sky blue. But a real deep blue. Like the way kids draw the ocean in a picture.

His toweling had no effect at removing the pigment from his skin, it only served to irritate him further. He threw the towel down in disgust and sighed. He opened the fridge for a beer when my roommate, Mandy, came in from the shower.

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed. Her big eyes taking him in from cobalt colored hair to cornflower blue midsection. We could only guess as to whether the hue continued further. But by the look of his toes, it did. There was a brief pause before she added: "John, I would close the fridge if I were you -you look so cold you're blue!"

"Or maybe he had a fight with a Papa Smurf, and for pun-ishment he was beaten black and blue." I said.

"Oh, no. I've got one." Mandy said. "It's been so long that you've had a date that you have blue balls all the way up to your eyebrows."

John just cringed and pretended to look further in the refrigerator, trying to ignore us.

"Let's not tease the Woad Warrior too much," I said.

"Or maybe I'm just so frustrated with you two that I'm blue in the face!" he yelled, slamming the refrigerator door and turning to face us.

Mandy and I turned to one another and then back to him, shaking our heads. "Nah," Mandy said, never missing a beat. "I bet you were the test subject for wiener dysfunction and took too many of the little blue pills."

"Oh, Neo" I said. "You should have taken the red pill instead."

Just then there was a knock at the door. Mandy answered it and I heard a familiar voice in the hallway. Mandy raced back into the kitchen, laughing so much that she could hardly breathe.

"What's so funny?" I asked. And then Bill walked in, in his own Technicolor glory.

"Bill?" I asked, trying desperately not to laugh and losing the battle. "Why are you chartreuse?"

"You won't believe the kind of day I've had." He said.

"You're preaching to the choir, brother." John said and handed Bill a beer.