IFJ- Insomnia

“Pssst! Tinkerbell! Wake up!”

He poked me in the arm, and I stirred sleepily. Then I looked at the clock. “It’s one thirty in the morning,” I protested.

“Yeah, but get up!”

I flopped over. “That’s a bad idea. Four hours of sleep isn’t enough. I’ll feel glorious bunked later, and won’t be able to write or do anything.”

“We can take a nap,” he said, poking me in the arm again.

“I can never take naps.”

“This time you will, I’ll help you.” When I didn’t respond, he shook me. “Hey, remember that Kids in the Hall sketch? That was freakin’ funny.” He made a silly voice. “God in heaven! This is progress?!”

The scene rolled through my head, and I was convulsed in helpless giggles. “The union!”

He laughed. “And hey, we have to write those book jacket blurbs for Genesis. You can do the Noah story next.”

I lay there for a moment, sighing, then flopped over in frustration. “I don’t have to do that now. I need more sleep.” I put a pillow over my head.

He stood there tapping his foot, and after a minute or so he shook me again, but he didn’t have to; I had potential lines for the blurb running through my mind, and I had the giggles again. “Fine, fine, I’m up.” I hauled myself out of bed and padded out into the kitchen. I turned on the light. Then I squinted at him. “Hey, you’re not Invisible Friend Jesus,” I said.

He shuffled his feet, his eyes darting around. Then there were footsteps in the hall, and Invisible Friend Jesus came out, rubbing his eyes. He was wearing striped white flannel pajamas. “What’s all the commotion?” he asked. Then his gaze fell on the other guy, and he grinned humorlessly. “Satan, go back to sleep and leave her alone,” he said.

View Kids in the Hall sketch:
Arms in a Trough of Dead Fish

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