Aliens Are a Drag
“We’ve got to find a way to sneak into that beauty shop,” said Grampa.
“You’ll never get in there,” said a mysterious voice from behind us.
It was Leslie the hairdresser.
“I’ve been watching them from across the street all night. You gotta be a grandma to get into that joint.”
That gave me an idea. “Leslie, could you use your stellar beautician skills to turn us into grannies?”
“For shizzle!” said Leslie.
So Leslie helped disguise us as grandmas. Jubal got a big black bun and a polka-dot dress.
I got a pink frock and a string of pearls.
Javier, Leslie’s assistant, gave Merle the granny treatment.
But Grampa was Leslie’s masterpiece.
“All right,” I said. “Remember, when we infiltrate the beauty shop, we have to act like hypnotized grannies. Don’t show any emotion. Are there any questions?”
“I just have one question,” said Grampa. “Does this dress make my butt look fat?”
