Time of Your Life Competition

'Where's the car key?' I say.
'Beth had it when she locked the door,' says Ben.
'Maybe it's in my handbag,' says Beth.
Something is wriggling and bouncing about in her handbag. She zips it open and out jumps a cat. 'FZZZZT. RRROWWWL!!!'
The cat belts around the side of the house and out of sight. Then Beth returns to her handbag, she pulls out a cheese roll, a half-empty can of dog -food, some hair clips, a teacup, but no key.
'In the year 2050, I…' says Ben.
'YOU WHAT!' says Beth.
'I what?' says Ben.
'ARRRH! What did you do in 2050?' yells Beth.

'Don't start that again,' I say. 'Let's find the key. Do you have it, Beth?'
She starts to look through her pockets. But she doesn't have any. She's wearing the latest shock pink body suit. So is Ben. Well it is the 60's and fashions are really weird.
'Maybe I dropped them,' says Beth.
So we all get down on our hands and knees, looking around the plastic bushes for the key. It's not really a key. It's a plastic everything card - about the size of a credit card. It opens doors, operates your bank account, pays the bills, orders your food, answers the phone, runs your life. Now I'm down on the ground, looking, too. There are a lot of interesting things down here in the plastic grass. Lots of ants. Plenty of scorpions. A few old dog poos. [They look like chocolate bullets, so I slip them into Ben's pocket].
But we can't find the key, so everyone starts yelling at everyone else.

'What are you looking for,' says a voice. It's Mr. CXXZ from next door.
'Don't worry. We've just lost something,' I say. I don't want to involve him.
'But, what are you looking for?' he says.
'Nothing. We had something and now we don't know where it is,' I say, hoping he will just go away.
'But what are you looking for?' He doesn't give up easily.
'Who are you talking to?' says Ben, from under the plastic pampas grass.
'It's Mr. CXXZ, from next door,' I say.
'Who?'
'It's Mr. CXXZ, from next door.'
Why not spend the day repeating myself. Sometimes I wish I were in a different story.

'What are you looking for?' says Mr. CXXZ.
'What did he say?' says Ben.
No, I am not going to repeat anything, anymore. I'm remaining silent. And, no, I'm not going to ask Mr. CXXZ in. Or am I? He'll drive us crazy, but,hell, why not?
'We're looking for our key,' I say.
'Well then, let me give you a hand.'
Great! Now Ben and Beth and Mr. CXXZ are all on the ground looking for the key.
'Here it is.' says Mr. CXXZ. 'I found it.'
We all rush over. Beth takes the key and tries it on the car door. It doesn't work.
'Give me a look at that,' I say. 'No, that's just an old plastic soy biscuit.'
It looks like a very old one, probably been in the garden for months. Plastic soy does not biodegrade easily. I throw the biscuit to Mr. CXXZ's seeing-eye dog. He loves plastic soy biscuits.

So we're back to looking again. Then suddenly, it starts to rain. It hasn't rained for years. Not real rain. No wait, that's not rain, that's the sprinklers. Who is turning on the sprinklers? The front lawn has a sprinkler system, just to keep the plastic plants looking clean and fresh.
'Which one of you idiots turned on the sprinklers?' I yell.
'Not me,' says Beth.
'Not me,' says Mr. CXXZ.
'In the year 2050, I…' begins Ben.
I rush over and turn off the sprinklers. But, only our personal, universal, plastic card key can turn them off. And we can't find it. Of course, there is a spare one in the house, but the house is locked. So I try to break in through a window.
Then suddenly, I realize the sprinklers have turned off.
'They must be faulty.'

The others didn't even notice the sprinklers were on. They are soaked, but they don't know it. They continue looking for the card.
Then the sprinklers go on again.
Then off, again. And on, then off.
I hide behind one of the large pink plastic flamingoes [there's three of them to choose from]. I watch.
It's the cat!
She walks past the sprinkler timer, rubbing herself up against it, as a cat will do. And each time he rubs, the sprinklers go on… or off.
That's where the key is. Inside the cat. It must have swallowed the key in Beth's bag. Or maybe she shoved it into the cat, thinking it was her purse. Anyway, the cat has the key, and I need the cat. And I'm in a hurry. So I run out from behind my flamingo, and take a flying leap at the cat. I catch it by the back leg, not a bad leap for a 90 year old.

'I've got the key,' I yell.
'What?' says Ben.
'Eh?' says Beth.
'That's a cat,' says Mr. CXXZ, he can hear it spitting and hissing.
'The key is in the cat. There's no time to wait for the key to come out of the cat. So, the cat is the key.' I yell.
I open the car door. Handy cat.
'Get in.'
'Eh?' says Beth.
'What?' says Ben.
'TAKE YOUR EARPHONES OFF YOUR HEADS!!!' I yell.
Using the cat, I start the car, back out and drive off towards the Hall. My bingo afternoon is half over. I hate missing my over-90's bingo. I leave them gawping on the front lawn with Mr. CXXZ and his seeing-eye dog.
'In the year 2050, I…' says Ben.

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