Johnworld arrives with his steady girlfriend, Anna, in a pink tuxedo jacket with white linen pants and purple patent leather loafers. He immediately goes over to a large potted palm tree that is guarding the entrance to the ballroom, unzips his fly and urinates at the base of the palm tree on national TV. I’m so humiliated. Ala explains to me it’s a custom of the Magentas to mark what they perceive to be their territory. I though animals do that.
All twenty-eight of our Magenta grandchildren—four of Johnworlds ladies had twins—are dressed in pink tuxedo jackets, white linen shorts and little pink or blue patent leather loafers depending on whether they are boys or girls. Although they are all less than one year old, they look and act seven year old. They sit quietly through the ceremony with their mothers and grandparents. Then they start marching around the dance floor and the tables in some type of herd mentality marking their territories as their father did and shouting, “We are coming. Their mothers and grandparents look startled as do the rest of the Human guests.”
The banquet manager puts out yellow plastic stanchions that say, “Watch Out, Slippery Surface.” but they don’t help that much as the invited guests go slip sliding around the dance floor.