Turning over a new leaf

“I am going to turn over a new leaf,” my friend told me frankly.

“Will it be a right turn or a left turn?” I asked interestedly.

“It will be a u-turn, then straight down for a mile, before taking a turn to the right,” he announced.

“So you want to become a Rightist?” I asked clapping my hands.

“I am tired of being called a Leftist merely because I use my left hand to scratch my nose,” my friend told me unhappily.

“Why don’t you become a centrist then, they have postal classes for that sort of thing,” I remarked.

“No, no, I’m looking for an online class which will help me understand how to turn over a new leaf,” he replied.

“Are you looking for the creeper variety or just as in trees and branches and the birds and bees?” I asked.

“Creepers make me feel creepy,” he shivered, “I prefer branches, especially those with leaves that Adam and Eve used.

“Then you will have to ask Columbus to take you to Paradise, with stops in between to see ancient Greece and a peep show,” I suggested.

“How much does he charge?” asked my friend uncertainly.

“All your piggy bank savings and that little pile that you have hidden in the cupboard,” I replied.

“I will be left sucking my big toe after the world tour,” he said troubled while making rapid calculations with his fingers and toes.

“Why don’t you use the calculus?” I asked.

“It’s not calculus, but a calculator stupid,” my friend snapped, “and anyway, I’ll buy it before going on a world tour to shop for fig leafs.”

“You don’t want the figs, just the leaves?” I questioned in surprise.

“I can also go shopping with a credit card,” my friend said nonchalantly, “Do they accept them at peep shows?”

“You mean you are going to ask Columbus to take you to peep shows?”

“I can also go to a cabaret show to see if the dancers wear a fig leaf or two,” he replied and smiled at the thought.

 “Must be two!” I exclaimed, “they can go topless, but not the other way around!”

“Do you want to come along?” my friend asked.

“I would love too, but I’m very shy of wearing the fig leaf in public,” I said.

“You won’t need two, just one will do,” my friend replied scrutinising me closely, “you can get it at the local supermarket for a discount.”

“Is it the fashion now?” I asked eagerly.

“It’s all the rage now,” my friend said, “You can also wear it when you are angry or burning with envy.”

“Won’t the fig leaf catch fire?” I asked doubtfully.

“You should water them first before going out dancing with the cat on a hot tin roof,” my friend advised kindly.

“Why should I dance on a tin roof when they make them out of concrete now?” I questioned.     

“As long as the fig leaf does not come off,” my friend warned.

“What if the fig turns a leaf?” I asked cautiously.

“The police will look up the provisions for turning a leaf in public and book you for vulgarity,” my friend said happily.

“The thought makes me quake like a leaf,” I said alarmed, “thank God I’m not wearing a fig leaf now.”

“You can also wear a smile and nothing else,” he suggested helpfully.

“Just a smile?” I asked.

“And the judge will give you just the same sentence as for turning a leaf in public,” my friend said.

“Oh, for a fig leaf,” I cried clasping my hands.

“For the want of a nail, a shoe was lost,” my friend said philosophically, “and for a fig leaf, Paradise lost Adam and Eve.”

“They must have cared a fig leaf for Eden,” I replied.

“Now they play cricket at the Eden Gardens,” my friend said knowingly.

“Cricket is a game played by 11 fools and watched by 11,000 fools,” I said quoting Bernard Shaw.

“I actually wouldn’t know if all of them wore fig leafs,” my friend admitted.

“You can always ask Adam and Eve from which store they got their fig leafs,” I said sincerely.

“Can’t be any old store that just sells the garden variety, must be a branded store,” my friend said, “which also sells bikinis.”

“Eve wore a bikini?” I asked flabbergasted.

“One made of leaves,” my friend informed, ”from the Paphiopedilum Callosum.”

“Oh!”

“It’s a kind of orchid,” my friend said displaying his knowledge of botany and bikinis.

“She must have been very choosy!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, she also told God about the features she would like in Adam,” my friend said.

“You mean she was created first?”

“Of course, otherwise how would have Adam procreated after taking her out on a date, stupid?”

“They procreated on their very first date?” I asked scandalised.

“No, no they began with holding hands and watched the stars and Starwars, till it was time for a steak dinner and washed it down with wine.”

“They had good wines in Eden?”

“They produced the best grapes that were exported to the U.A.E., U.S.A. and the U.K.”

“Did Adam and Eve ever get drunk?”

“Yes, when they discovered they were only wearing fig leaves.”

“What did they do?”

“They asked God to give them a credit card to shop online,” my friend replied.

“And they shopped for bikinis?”

He shook his head,“ Adam bought shorts.”  

“They must have gone sunbathing too.”

“Yes, and they loved the sunshine on the sun-kissed beaches.”

“They have beaches for kissing?” I asked in wonder.

“Those that don’t allow nudity.”

“Adam and Eve should have had no problem there,” I remarked.

“But they turned over a new leaf after they went shopping.”

“And what did they do when God found out?”

“They trembled like a leaf, of course,” he replied.

“Something like the delirium tremens?”

“No, the Saint Vitus Dance.”

“They made someone a saint for dancing?” I asked astonished.

“They thought of Micheal Jackson at first,” he replied.

“But did they?”

“No, Adam and Eve were too busy searching the apple among the leaves to think of Jackson,” my friend replied.

“But it was half eaten!” I exclaimed.

“They only ate half when they found that it was rotten to the core,” he replied.

“It must have made them talk rot!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, they began to stutter as if their wisdom teeth had fallen off!”

“Why did they not get dentures?”

“They did, they had them made with hippopotamus teeth,” my friend informed.

“Wouldn’t the hippopotamuses mind?” I asked in amazement.

“They didn’t because Adam asked them to open their jaws wide and say ‘Ah!’ as Eve plucked the teeth out with a leaf.”

“Was it done under cover of darkness?”

“Adam and Eve covered themselves in glory for feeding a hippopotamus with leaves they had cast off.”

“You mean they went around in the nude feeding hippopotamuses?” I asked staggered.

“They were used to doing so at the Eden Gardens,” he replied patiently.

“How I wish I could have seen Eve munching on an apple with her tongue hanging out,” I said wistfully.

“You would have been able to if you had turned a new leaf carefully,” my friend said.

“Not a leaf would stir if I were to watch with a good pair of binoculars.”

“Eve used them too,” my friend replied.

“Oh!”

“She used them to watch Adam whenever he played the fiddle among the leaves and whistled at the angels,” he said.

“Was it a wolf whistle?”

“That depends on the wolves and the angels.”

“Did they have wolves in Eden?”

“Yes, they look for sheep which are turning over a new leaf.”

“What did they do that for?”

“To see if they are wearing a fig leaf or banana overalls.”

 “And the wolves must like bananas?”

“The wolves do, especially if the sheep look sheepish enough,” my friend said.

“The sheep don’t wear a fig leaf, do they?” I asked.

“The sheep? No, they had enough wool and gave the fig leaf to the little boy who lived down the lane.”

“What do he do with it?”

“He gave it to his short-sighted grandmother.”

“And, what did she do with it?

“She made a salad with it and ate it for supper.”

“Must have been very scandalous?”

“She loved scandals for breakfast too until she turned over a new leaf after she found a bug reading pornography aloud in her bedroom.”

“Did she dot the bug on the head or merely squash it?” I asked.

“She approached the court to quash it.”

“She did not want to dirty her finger, I see,” I said.

“She had the bug fingered by the court clerk,” my friend replied.

“And the judge must have given it a stiff sentence.”

“He did, his sentence had a couple of nouns, a verb, two adverbs and an object,” my friend replied.

“That was stiff punishment for a mere bug!”

“So that next time it won’t go around in the nude, frightening old ladies turning the leaves of a bedtime storybook,” he replied.

“It will even make them turn in their graves,” I remarked.

“They will be eternally damned to turn a new leaf every other day except during low tides,” he replied.

“Wouldn’t they get high during high tides?” I asked.

“Only when their spirits are running low,” my friend said.

“The bugs drink?” I asked concerned.

“No, those who drink too much think they see blue mice and pink elephants.”

“No blue cats or hippopotamuses then?” I questioned.

“Only when they get the blues.”

“Is it any good for jaundice, you turn yellow then you know,” I said.

“You can take up the blues when you turn yellow, it will certainly turn you green.”

“What about those turning a new leaf?” I asked.

“They can wear a two piece suit made of leaves to business conferences,” he said, “just like Adam. He was a great entrepreneur and published maps. The one of the Garden of Eden sold out in two days as everyone wanted to honeymoon there. Eve sold tickets to the nudists for a trip around the apple tree that made them famous.”

“Oh!”

“She also convinced God to let her have angels as cheap labour for stitching pyjamas made of leaves. God was so impressed that he bought a set on instalments from her for his own use,” he said.

“Oh!”

“It did not last of course as God played around with thunder and lightning and the leaves burnt up without giving him a chance to put on his underwear,” my friend said, “but fiasco was averted because God has a flowing white beard down to his ankles and hair below his waistline.”

“That must have been terrible for Adam and Eve,” I remarked.

“They atoned for their mistakes with Eve giving up her bikini and Adam his shorts and returned to turning over a new leaf every time an apple ripened,” he said.

“What happened then?” I asked.

“God said one day that he had failed to pay the mortgage for The Garden and was sending his two freeloader creations to Earth where they could buy apples and clothes and set up nudist colonies and an industry to produce baby food and test tube babies,” my friend said.

“I heard that they were booted out,” I interjected.

“Yes the boot was on the other foot for Adam and Eve as they could not find a cobbler,” he said.

“For want of a cobbler, Paradise was lost,” I sighed, “did it lead to quarrels among Adam and Eve?”

“They usually made faces at each other for a week, then refused to scratch each other’s back for another week, then got bored and finally kissed and made up.”

“You mean they turned over a new leaf?” I asked.

“Adam, to revive memories of how they turned over a new leaf under the apple tree, bought Eve the finest silks, high heeled shoes, sexy underwear and an Apple iPhone. “

“And, did they not procreate?” I asked surprised.

“They accomplished that after reading ‘On the Origin of Species’ and soon learned how to make a u-turn, tea, toast and test tube babies,” my friend concluded.