– a mass text reads sent out to Ginger, Scary, Sporty, and Baby Spice.
After tedious weeks of meticulous planning, the four girls thought Posh Spice would be a little bit more excited about their reunion at the closing ceremony.
Over brunch, they stare at an empty seat where Victoria was suppose to meet them an hour ago…
“Has anyone tried to reach her?” Geri asks while molding her buttermilk shortstack into a peace sign. She’s already used up the majority of her strawberries, blueberries, and bananas to spell “Girl Power.”
“We all have, Geri. NOTHING.” Mel C high kicks her glass of orange juice.
“Hi Vitamin C Ya, Hold Tight!”
“Well she just has to show up. HAS TO. The nerve! We’ve been bloody trying to get a hold of her for ages!” Mel B spills some maple syrup on her gold sequins tiger stripe cat suit. “Bugger!”
BLEEP. BLEEP. BLEEP. The girls cease their crackberries.
JUST CLIFFORD (their manager).
“Well we better be off. Time for rehearsal.” Emma takes turns between two breakfast flavored lollipops, “bacon” and “eggs.”
—20 MINUTES LATER—
All four ornately decorated tacky-cabs roll up to the stadium for their practice session.
Clifford runs over to collect the girls.
With a clipboard he check marks each of them as he calls their names aloud.
“Scary, Ginger, Sporty, Baby…and…and where’s…oh my god, where’s Posh?” He takes off his half crescent spectacles to rub the stitch between his eyes.
“See Clifford, that’s just the thing…we’ve been try -” Sporty is cut off by the sound of engine fuel.
Suddenly, everything goes black.
“Simon Says,” abducts all sound systems in the stadium. FULL VOLUME.
Sheer screams ignite the darkened sky as people run in every direction. Florescent green lights blindly illuminate the spot where the four Spice girls stand rooted to the grass. Whooshes of chaotic wind and turbulence create uneasiness in the atmosphere, as the girls struggle to gain semblance with their six inch stackers.
An iridescent black UFO-like space shuttle with Chanel double logos on each side starts to hoover over the stage. In the right light, the jet sparkles, but right now, it just reads Miss Sinister.
As the shuttle lands, hints of apricot, orange myrth, and black fig are released in thick, billowy, champage-colored clouds by way of the exhaust fans.
Two purple alien video vixxxens with silver mermaid hair appear from the dock that opens from the base of the shuttle. They oddly resemble the Olsen Twins. Could it be? No! Wait…could it?! They wheel out something the size of a coffin and roll it out onto the field. The four Spice girls look like they have just seen the ghost of Lana Del Rey’s SNL performance’s past…pupils the size of the Spice bus, they are planted, horrorfied to move, but terrified to stay and see what happens…
Mary-Kate and Ashley – I mean – The two aliens drape the curtain that covered the object, which is revealed to be a glass vessel. Magenta cords wind serpent-like all over the case, as the alien girl on the right presses a series of buttons, and two glass french doors materialize from the vessel where a cloaked figure literally comes to life in front of them. The alien girl on the right reappears with a silver tray adorned with a freshly popped Vueve and an already poured flute of chilled bubbly. The alien girl on the left reappears with a matching silver tray, only she has two pieces of brie. With a closer look, there is a small sign in calligraphy that reads “CALORIE LIMIT: TWO PIECES OF CHEESE.”
Appearing from behind a Lagerfeld 2013 byMarc Jacob one-of-a-kind cape,
POSH SPICE gives her infamous chesire grin.
“Why so serious, girls? You know how long it takes me to get ready. I couldn’t decide if I should wear the little Gucci dress, or the little Gucci dress.”
With that two claps of lightening erupt the noise and she cackles like a liar at a witch trial. The other four Spices go white as the storm that is about to start…
TO BE CONTINUED.
WRITER’S CUT / INSPIRATION 4 THE POST: I was having a double espresso with Immaculate Conception Spice this morning and we were looking through backstage photos of the Spice force five at the Olympics. After fifteen years, the girls still looked fresh to def and sick as can – CANCUN. Except for one: POSH. Lol. She looked SO pressed to be there, and I’ve concurred that she is the McKayla Maroney of the fab five. The Daria Morgendorffer of Girl Power. The Janine Garofalo at your high school reunion. Don’t believe me, take a look for yourself:
© JAKE THOMPSON