After the lesson from Jello, Teddy was wondering about his hero potential and what he could do to be more comfortable talking to girls. Jello, meanwhile, looked around the room for something else to do. Teddy had an acoustic guitar by his bed and Jello would often idly strum it while they were talking. Teddy had once shown Jello how to play a few chords and soon Jello played Teddy's guitar better and more often than Teddy did. Then Jello got his own guitar and started writing songs, if you could call them that. Jello picked up the guitar and offered to preview a new one.
"I call it 'Yoga Girl,'" he said, "and it goes something like this..."
Jello strummed a slow C chord and started to sing:
"Yoga girl with your sweet yoga ass,"
Teddy laughed. Jello kept singing.
"Downward-facing dog works your glutes to the max.
Long and lean, you're my yoga queen.
You can stand on one leg, baby, all day...
Namaste
Yoga girl with your rolled up mat,
Your muscle definition and your low body fat,
When you work your core, makes me want you more.
When I see those tight pants, baby, I say...
Namaste."
"Chorus coming! Backing vocals!" Jello pointed at Teddy. "Be my be my be my be my yoga girl... Be my be my be my be my yoga girl."
Teddy half-heartedly joined in as Jello launched into the chorus:
"Be my yoga girl!
Rock my yoga world!
Let's align our chakras, baby!
My hot yoga girl..."
"OK, cut the backing vocals!" instructed Jello before starting into the third verse.
"Yoga girl, yeah, you got flexibility,
But I got to know 'bout your sex ability.
Can you touch your toes? Even with your nose?
Can you do a headstand, baby? That's the way...
Namaste."
"Chorus! Go! Be my be my be my..."
"Be my yoga girl!
Rock my yoga world!
Let's align our chakras, baby!
My hot yoga girl..."
"Cut the backing vocals!" Jello strummed a final chord and let it fade.
"My hot yoga girl,
My hot yoga girl...
Namaste."
Jello took his hands from the guitar and put them together prayer-style, bowing solemnly after the last word. Teddy shook his head and laughed.
"That's just wrong in so many ways. You're some kind of demented genius, my friend."
Jello grinned and said, "I know, right?"
YOU ARE READING
What Passes For Normal
General FictionA girl, nineteen, living on the streets and addicted to meth, discovers that getting hit by a car might be the best thing to ever happen to her. A guy, eighteen, wonders what just happened to his normal life.
