I Look Like What? (Wednesday Writing Essential)

Al obviously heard me swearing at the computer as I printed out today’s prompt. He called out to me, “Max? What’s the matter?”

I pulled the sheet out of the printer and walked out into the living room. “Oh, man I have to do a caricature.”

“Huh?”

“You know, those pictures that they make when you go to Disneyland? A picture that makes you look silly.”

“You want to look silly, just look in a mirror.”

“Al! Get serious or I’ll chase you around the block.”

“All right, what do you have to do?”

I drew a deep breath, sank down on the couch next to him, and said, “I told you, I have to come up with a caricature of myself.”

“Well, that ain’t gonna work. Neither one of us can draw.”

“No, I have to do it in words.”

I saw the smirk creep across his face as he said, “Words? What do you know about words or how to use them?” He was fast enough that the pillow I threw at him missed.

“Come on, Al, help me with this. I have to come up with a caricature of myself.”

He shook his head, sighed loudly, and said, “Well, start at the top -- that haircut.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Uh, it’s uneven.”

“Look, once a month or so I take a pair of scissors to the long stuff and then use my beard trimmer to clean up the hairs around my ears and my neck.”

“Yes, but you don’t get it even.”

“Okay, there’s one part of the caricature. What else?”

“Your glasses.”

“Oh, come on. Years ago these were the ‘birth control glasses,’ but that’s over now.”

“How do you figure?”

“Back in the early ‘90s my wife took me to a store to get new glasses and the girl behind the counter pointed out that my military glasses were called ‘birth control glasses’ because I’d never get laid wearing them. Then Drew Carey made them acceptable.” I sneered at my friend and added, “I don’t have any trouble getting laid, thank you.”

He took so long to answer that I said, “Come on, what else? My ears? Nose? Eyes?”

“No,” he answered slowly, “your ears are kinda average. Your nose doesn’t have a ski slope shape or a hook. It’s just kinda average... not even that big.”

“Okay, how about my lips?”

He studied my face a second and said, “Well, your upper lip is pretty much covered by your mustache, and you don’t have much of a lower lip. Hmm, chin is strong, except it’s covered with your beard.”

“Okay, great, now we’re getting somewhere. How about my beard?”

Long pause and then, “Well, you’re kinda gray, but if it were white you could be kinda like Santa. Oh, if it were longer.”

“There you go, that’s what I was looking for. Caricature is taking something and exaggerating it to something silly. So we draw my beard longer and whiter. What else?”

 He chuckled and pointed down. “Well, as long as we’re talking about Santa, that gut would really fit into the picture.”

I shook my head and said, “Okay, the gut fits Santa, but he’s big all over, I just have this.” I jiggled my belly as I said it.

He stared at me for a moment and then said, “Isn’t that the purpose of a caricature? We take the beard, turn it white and longer, and then enlarge the gut until it fills a Santa suit.”

“Yes, yes, that’s it.” I picked up my glass and pushed it toward him. “Bottoms up, my friend, I think we’ve just come up with the perfect caricature of Max.”

He chuckled as he said, “I guess your destiny is to be the next Santa. Now all you have to do is push him off a roof.”

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Prompts:Write a caricature of yourself, but if you're going to spell out your faults, be funny about it! Include the words: lip, chase, destiny. Include the phrase: Bottoms Up! Tag with gwwe.