This is a test of sorts. What I am doing is taking a familiar cartoon clip (that involves tickling of course) and creating a detailed script from it. It is not my intention to embellish the story, though this might happen a little bit should the need arise. It is simply a retelling, and hopefully, will give a different perspective than just the cartoon we have all come to know and cherish. If this proves successful, I will add more stories. If not, well… it was fun writing this one.
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The sign says ‘Cobblestone Public Beach’.
It is a warm afternoon and the Flintstones and Rubbles are enjoying a relaxing day at the local beach. A light breeze is blowing in from the west. A lifeguard casually surveys the ocean from atop his trusty Brontosaurus. Two couples on beach blankets are seen off in the distance. Surprisingly there are not a lot of other people at the beach today. Wilma and Betty are chatting to each other on their own, green leopard skin beach blanket. Both are wearing two piece bathing suits. Though Betty wears her familiar blue bow in her hair, Wilma decides that because of todays breezy weather, she should wear a cloth headband of white. They are having a friendly conversation together.
“Oh… Cobblestone beach…” Wilma reflectively sighs. “Don’t you just love it on a hot summers day like this Betty?”
“Oh, it’s just wonderful…” Betty says in agreement. “and so good for the children.”
“Including our husbands.” Wilma softly chuckles. “Look at Fred.”
The two women look over at Fred, who is buried in a giant mound of sand. Buried in fact, to the point that only his head and bare-feet remain visible. Pebbles who is Fred and Wilma’s baby, sits atop the mound, patting the top of the completed pile.
Fred laughs to himself. “Isn’t that cute? Pebbles buried me in the sand.”
Pebbles laughs at her crowning achievement, then mumbles something in ‘baby talk’ and walks off the mound on her hands and knees.
Fred suddenly realizes his predicament and calls out to Pebbles who is crawling towards her mother, who is still on the blanket.
“Hey Pebbles, where are you going?” A faint tremor of mounting panic steals into Fred’s plea for help. “Let me out of here, I’m stuck in the sand!”
A familiar voice bellows from behind the pile of sand: “WILMA!!”
At this point Wilma is already standing in front of Fred’s pair of exposed feet. Her arms akimbo, as she surveys the situation.
“Relax Fred, I’ll get you out…” She bends down and examines Fred’s helpless feet with an uncharacteristic Machiavellian grin on her face. “but is isn’t easy to pass up this opportunity…”
She says the word ‘opportunity’ in a teasing manner as she reaches out with her index finger, and begins to gently stroke the middle of Fred’s right, ticklish sole… up and down. Fred immediately begins to giggle and laugh.
“HO HO HO, Cut it out! HA HA HA!!”
Wilma begins to lightly tickle both feet now, using all of her slender, delicate fingers and well manicured fingernails. By this time, Fred can barely speak or make himself understood through all the forced hysterical laughter.
“HA HA HA!!! STOP IT! HAHA! HELP ME! HAHA! IF YOU DON’T STOP MAKING ME LAUGH… I’M, I’M GOING TO GET AWFULLY MAD WILMA HAHA HAHA!”
Suddenly, with Herculean strength, Wilma grabs Fred by the ankle and pulls Fred out from beneath the mound of sand. Holding his bare-foot with both hands, she exclaims.
“There you are, all safe and sound… “
She bends down still holding his foot, then leans in, bringing it to her chest. A look of bewilderment passes over Fred’s face.
“Honestly Fred, sometimes you’re just a big baby…”
——————
The sign says ‘Cobblestone Public Beach’.
It is a warm afternoon and the Flintstones and Rubbles are enjoying a relaxing day at the local beach. A light breeze is blowing in from the west. A lifeguard casually surveys the ocean from atop his trusty Brontosaurus. Two couples on beach blankets are seen off in the distance. Surprisingly there are not a lot of other people at the beach today. Wilma and Betty are chatting to each other on their own, green leopard skin beach blanket. Both are wearing two piece bathing suits. Though Betty wears her familiar blue bow in her hair, Wilma decides that because of todays breezy weather, she should wear a cloth headband of white. They are having a friendly conversation together.
“Oh… Cobblestone beach…” Wilma reflectively sighs. “Don’t you just love it on a hot summers day like this Betty?”
“Oh, it’s just wonderful…” Betty says in agreement. “and so good for the children.”
“Including our husbands.” Wilma softly chuckles. “Look at Fred.”
The two women look over at Fred, who is buried in a giant mound of sand. Buried in fact, to the point that only his head and bare-feet remain visible. Pebbles who is Fred and Wilma’s baby, sits atop the mound, patting the top of the completed pile.
Fred laughs to himself. “Isn’t that cute? Pebbles buried me in the sand.”
Pebbles laughs at her crowning achievement, then mumbles something in ‘baby talk’ and walks off the mound on her hands and knees.
Fred suddenly realizes his predicament and calls out to Pebbles who is crawling towards her mother, who is still on the blanket.
“Hey Pebbles, where are you going?” A faint tremor of mounting panic steals into Fred’s plea for help. “Let me out of here, I’m stuck in the sand!”
A familiar voice bellows from behind the pile of sand: “WILMA!!”
At this point Wilma is already standing in front of Fred’s pair of exposed feet. Her arms akimbo, as she surveys the situation.
“Relax Fred, I’ll get you out…” She bends down and examines Fred’s helpless feet with an uncharacteristic Machiavellian grin on her face. “but is isn’t easy to pass up this opportunity…”
She says the word ‘opportunity’ in a teasing manner as she reaches out with her index finger, and begins to gently stroke the middle of Fred’s right, ticklish sole… up and down. Fred immediately begins to giggle and laugh.
“HO HO HO, Cut it out! HA HA HA!!”
Wilma begins to lightly tickle both feet now, using all of her slender, delicate fingers and well manicured fingernails. By this time, Fred can barely speak or make himself understood through all the forced hysterical laughter.
“HA HA HA!!! STOP IT! HAHA! HELP ME! HAHA! IF YOU DON’T STOP MAKING ME LAUGH… I’M, I’M GOING TO GET AWFULLY MAD WILMA HAHA HAHA!”
Suddenly, with Herculean strength, Wilma grabs Fred by the ankle and pulls Fred out from beneath the mound of sand. Holding his bare-foot with both hands, she exclaims.
“There you are, all safe and sound… “
She bends down still holding his foot, then leans in, bringing it to her chest. A look of bewilderment passes over Fred’s face.
“Honestly Fred, sometimes you’re just a big baby…”
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