T.G.I.K.O.A.W.!

_Early Edition_

Friday walks down the five stairs of the gantry from the official King Of All Weekdays hovercraft. He waves to the multitudes which have gathered on the banks of the canal. They hang from the windows and balconys of old European styled buildings, and throw confetti and bouquets of flowers - and they peer dangerously from the tops of modern skyscrapers throwing streamers and lingerie. (all of the objects above fall well short, and drop onto gathered below) They stand hundreds deep on the streets -and some womenfolk are perched on the shoulders of men. A few blocks down a security services tank sits nearly invisible, it's armor and gun covered like a chia-pet, with citizens sitting, standing, crouching, trying for a better spot to see. High above a Red-Baron styled tri-plane tows a huge banner that reads, "Welcome Back Again!"

Friday turns his head left and right to take it all in, and gives a wave in as many directions as there are people. The crowd goes into a frenzy! They cheer, clap, whistle, wave back, and some even expose the best parts of the human anatomy that usually remain covered in public. Friday walks another twenty feet to where a modest podium sits. Behind the podium, is a massive wall of speakers hundreds of feet high, and at least an acer or two wide. Friday dribbles his voice into the microphone,

"Hi there."

It comes out of the speaker wall at eighteen billion watts, and promptly breaks every window within two square miles. Hats fly from heads! scarves and coats pick up and dance backwards! People stagger - their faces look as if they were undergoing a NASA g-force test! After the initial sonic blast - it's a good thing the wall of speakers is blaring out eighteen billion watts, because nobody in the crowd would register a human voice (even shouting) for weeks afterwards.

"Ooh, sorry," Friday says, looking startled and apologetic, but still releasing another assulting blast of sound from the speaker wall. He realizes it's too late to stop, so he adjusts his tie-knot and plows ahead.
"I was in a spot of being overwhelmed with requests, of showing up early, making plans, being relied on...so I decided to try an experiment. This experiment was so dangerous that it could not be undertaken in this universe. I...you might find this hard to believe, but I traveled to another dimension, and had myself cloned."

At this exact moment, six stealth bombers flew overhead in a precision wedge formation. To the ringing ears of the entire crowd, they made no sound, and finally, truly, lived up to their name. In fact, over two million eyes didn't notice a military fly-by, and it wasn't caught by cameras. Friday continued.

"I actually had myself cloned five hundred thousand times...since that's about the number of Friday's you all seem to need - and even then, that's one of me for some eighteen thousand of every one of you...rounding of course." Friday takes out a silver flask from his sportscoat, unscrews the cap, and has a long pull. He fastens the cap back on and tucks it away.

"To be blunt..." The mega-amplified voice of Friday continues, "It was such a horrible failure, that the only way to contain the catastrophy, was to completely destroy the dimension that contained five hundred thousand me's. Believe me when I say," Friday says knowingly, "that wasn't an easy task. I'm pretty resourceful!"

A million people laugh. And nobody there heard anything but ringing through their ears.

"Anyways, the experament revealed that after a factor of two - there became too many conflicting desires, and too many equally matched powers for anything but a befuddled mess to occurr. No fun, no occomplishment, just conflict. It turned hideously ugly. In fact, had we not demolished the dimension, most everything would have exterminated itself, and whatever remained (or computer models suggested) would have been forced into a pre-civilization neanderthal like existance...and I don't have to tell you that couldn't have been too much fun!"

Heads nodd in agreement, as people, just normal folk who like Friday, who have been trying to wrap their heads around these words, finally have something tangible to deal with. Then a huge black hull drifted down the canal, between Friday and his audience. A supertanker drifted up without a sound and was made fast, and a gangplank came down. Behind another massive hull, and another, and another and another and another.

"And since I've been gone for a while..." Friday speaks to his now mostly obscured audience, "I've got something special planned! Hop on board, real quick-like! There isn't much time!"

On the other side of the canal, people rush up to board the gigantic ships. Friday turns and walks away from the podium. He makes his way, down a staircase of brick to the edge, where a massive and yacht-like hydrofoil waits. He springs down a walkway onto the ship, where he returns the salute of a white uniformed Captain who appears to have been waiting for just this moment. The Captain spins about and moves off to the windowless bridge of his craft, and Friday opens a door set in the superstructure, and walks down a teak-panneled hall. After passing ten doors, Friday turns and walks down a stairwell which emerges in a luxurious room where Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday sit around a huge television, playing Madden 2006. Wednesday lets out a triumphant yell as his fullback powers through the goal line defense. He stands and hi-fives Thursday!

"Who's winning?" Friday asks.

The four weekdays look back.

"All tied up." Says Monday. "Nice to have you back."
"Thanks. Good to be here."
Tuesday picks up a glass from a coffee table and drinks a big sip.
"So..." Wednesday waves his controller in a sweeping arc as he speaks, "You done with allllllllll that?"
"Yeah," Friday moves a little closer, "Done deal."
"I guess the question is," Thursday looks up with a straight face and voice, but happy eyes, "What are we going to do tonight?"
The others wait transfixed for the answer.
"I put together ten drilling platforms, linked them with bridges, helicoptered in eighteen great bands, fifty DJ's, and enough liqour to get Europe drunk. Should be fun!" Friday looked excited about it.

Tuesday leaned back in his chair and made a sour face.
"Don't want to rain on your parade, I mean it sounds like fun, but everyone that's coming is going to be deaf for weeks."
Firday let an "Ahhh..." slip from his lips. "See, the sound system that's set up beats the one here...I mean, I know it's going to piss off the whales and dolphins, but they can swim away pretty quick."

"But what about the people Friday?" Asked Wednesday, "They won't be able to talk at all!"

Friday stood there for a second, watching the replay of the video game touchdown.
"That's the cool part. You think a million people can get along at a party without talking to each other? I mean, you think they'll get the gist of it, of everything without words getting in the way?"

The four weekdays reacted in different ways, and with different speeds, but all began to smile and nodd. At that moment, and not a second sooner, the hydrofoil took off, and flew down the canal.