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It was already late in the day when they decided to abandon the Pirate costumes.  John had decided the night before that he would shave his four-day beard in order to appear gentle and serene at the office on Friday.  Gabrielle, while in possession of perfect Pirate Wench hair and a killer white cotton top, it seems was only committed to the Wench or the Cutlass as far as it seemed to coincide with the overwhelming number of Ninjas slated to be there that night, and so was disappointed Not at All when there was an end to it, come 6:30 the night of.   Perhaps they would not go in costume at all.

But then there was the Shirt they had purchased for Claire while on holiday in Hawaii, at a Thrift Shop in the town of Haiku, Upcountry, Maui.  It appeared without its wearer, or rather, without bearing its wearer within it: It seems it had grown too short in some areas, too narrow in others and had acquired an overall ill-fitting form.   I mean, for Claire.  Once its sleeves were mercilessly slashed and all ties loosened it fit perfectly over the Kona Brewing Company T-shirt and holey-silk long underwear Gabrielle was already wearing.  In fact, it begged to be joined by a 2-inch wide black silk ribbon that just so happened to be sitting in a pile of ribbons on the desk in the kitchen and that suddenly found its way to my–uh, to Gabrielle’s head.

From there it was all we–they could do to find proper companion attire for John.

To be continued….

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