It was my birthday, so I hired a professional jester to perform for my cat “Oscar” and I. I don’t mean a clown, an actual jester from medieval times. Anyway, the jester was dressed in a black and red skin-tight suit with bells attached to it. It was just Oscar and I so the jester seemed put off by it, but eventually snapped out of it and got to work. The Jester started juggling axes that were on fire. I laughed, but was secretly frightened. The jester seemed to sense my fear, so he upped it up a notch. Next, he pulled out a bag of wolf spiders and started swallowing them whole right in front of us. I was grossed out, for sure, but it was my birthday and I was having a couple of Pale Ales, so I went along with it. 

When he finished eating the wolf spiders, I clapped and Oscar began walking around in circles as he does when he’s excited. The jester took a formal bow. Then he brought out a birthday cake. It was an ice cream cake with a skeleton on a surfboard on top. I told the jester how much I appreciated the gesture. We all ate. 

After cake, everyone, the jester, Oscar, and I, started singing karaoke and drinking Pale Ales and black coffee pretty heavily until the early morning. Needless to say, we didn’t sleep much at all. In fact, at 6 am, we went surfing at our local spot. We caught some righteous waves. We had the time of our lives. But then, suddenly, the jester dropped so hard from a twelve-foot wave, and just disappeared like a magic trick. I’ve never seen him again, unfortunately. I assume he floated away out to the middle of the sea, insignificant, like the rest of us. Rest in peace, dear jester-friend.