Page 24 of Tiki Hut Tragedy
“The security team is still searching the water and along the shore.”
“In case she swam to shore,” Danielle said.
“Yeah. Cat and I looked, but we couldn’t find her.” Millie noticed a crowd gathering off to the side. “Are we ready to belly flop?”
“I thought it would be fun to switch things up a little and host a funny flop.”
“I like it. I’ll follow your lead.”
Danielle grabbed her microphone and climbed onto the edge of the pool. “Who’s ready for the pool competition?”
Woot, woot,the crowd enthusiastically replied.
“Awesome, because instead of a belly flop, we’re trying something new…a funny flop. I’ve already selected a panel of judges who will rate each flop on a scale of 1 to 10.”
She rattled off the list of rules, similar to the traditional belly flop. Contestants weren’t allowedto perform dangerous stunts, use props deemed unsafe, and they had to keep it clean—as in Rated G for everyone.
Millie stood at the other end, directing the first competitor to the deep end of the pool while a crowd gathered along the sides to watch.
“First up is Ducky Dave.”
Flop. Flop.A man sporting “rubber ducky” feet, aka fins, flapped and flopped across the open deck. Grasping the handrails, he cautiously backed up the steps. Someone in the crowd let loose a catcall.
Millie burst out laughing. Duckbill lips matched his yellow webbed plastic feet. Painted on his hairy abdomen was a round red bullseye. On closer inspection, Millie noticed a yellow duck, similar to the ones passengers hid around the ship, tied around his neck, dangling like a necklace.
Ducky Dave lifted his right arm, cupped his palm over his armpit and let loose a loud quacking sound.
The audience roared with laughter.
He shuffled to the deep end of the pool. “Ducky Dave for the win!” he shouted.
Using momentum, Ducky leapt into the air, performed a full turn, his feet and duck bill spinning around before hitting the water with grace and speed, splashing those who had gathered inside the splash zone.
He popped out of the water and swam to the edge before climbing out.
“Standby for your ranking,” Danielle said.
The judges, a girl who couldn’t have been more than five, a teenager, a woman in her thirties, a man with a thick gray beard and bald head, along with a couple Millie met the previous night who were celebrating their fortieth wedding anniversary began lifting their scorecards.
“Ten, nine, ten, eight, ten and ten.”
The crowd applauded, hooting and hollering while Ducky Dave took a bow.
Up next was a blonde clad in an itsy bitsy, teenie weenie purple polka dot bikini. She got several wolf whistles, strutting along the side of the pool, posing and blowing kisses to her admirers.
Placing both hands over her head, and in perfect form, she dove into the deep end. Down she went until she hit bottom. She surfaced moments later and swam to the other side. Dripping wet, she stood on the edge and took a bow to another round of wolf whistles and catcalls.
The judges were a little less enthusiastic about Blond Barbie.
The competition continued with several more creative combinations—a Hawaiian-themed ensemble complete with lei, a flamingo floatie with the contestant sporting a matching headband. The final competitor was a young boy Millie guessed to be around ten years old dressed as a pirate.
“Our last contestant is Gunpowder Gordon, the most ruthless pirate sailing the high seas,” Danielle said.
“Walk the plank,” he growled, brandishing a plastic sword while Mom and Dad stood by, keeping close tabs on the swashbuckler.
Placing a light hand on his back, Millie directed him toward the center of the pool and away from the deep end. He pointed his sword at her, scrunching up his face in an attempt to look menacing. “Dead men tell no tales!” he yelled.
“It’s a good thing I’m not a man,” Millie laughed.
