Cosme Fauroat
Wet Hot Algerian Summer

Being a brief fictional episode of subdued ribald character, designed to increase site traffic originating in web search results, according to SEO best practices.

"God! Algeria can be so boring, and, like, lonely," sighed golf superstar Michelle Sung Wie as she gazed contemplatively out the window of her quaint rented beach house. "Look how empty of friends the ocean is."

Portuguese-born soccer star Cristiano Ronaldo looked up from where he was lounging on the Sivika yellow-green sofa-bed from Ikea. "I am not knowing what you are talking about, Wiely." Suddenly, with an air of impatience, he held his hands up for inspection. "Now, help me since it is I have been asking for you to be helping me determine the correct length of the fingernails. The nails will chip if I let them reach too great a length but, as I am an international footballer, I do not desire they are to be stubs as many of those slob boy American players are having."

Michelle snorted at her old friend Cristiano and then looked past him to the television. The new episode of Rising Star was playing. "Don't be such a priss, Cris. There are many men in my life, and very few if any of them could give a flick about the length of their fingernails."

"Many mens? Well I have been hearing there are not so many of the good mens out there," Cristiano said, in his smug and knowing way.

Michelle sighed and looked at her iPhone. Suddenly, a flash of pleasure shone in her eyes! Team USA soccer player Jermaine Jones had just updated his Twitter feed:

in algeria lookin for a tv to watch @TrueBlood marathon. #CarmeloAnthony #TrueBud #BestBlood

She bit into her lip ever so slightly and quickly typed a reply:

lol get ova here #Vegfest #LOLALGI

As she slipped her phone back into the front pocket of her Levi's, Cristiano gasped, at whatever latest development had unfolded on his program. Speaking to no one in particular, he said aloud: "I do not am understanding how horrible such singers are on these shows, American. Are the people not listening to the voices they are singing?"

*       *       *

Ten minutes later a knock, stern yet sensual, sounded on the front door. Cristiano, annoyed, looked up from the television just as his girl Ke$sha was beginning to tear down the high spirits of a contestant guilt of particularly unskilled warbling. "Wiely, did you invite someone?"

Michelle Wie smiled excitedly as she skipped over to let Jermaine in. When she opened the door, she saw that the athlete was holding his open laptop and carrying on a Skype chat with Carmelo Anthony, American professional basketball player and his best bro. Without seeming even to notice the beautiful traditional golden Algerian headdress she had picked out and donned just for him, he swept past her inside the bungalow, caught up excitedly in his conversation about the new season of True Blood on HBO. She could hear Carmelo's voice seeping out of the computer's speakers: "Brah! No way is it gonna matter who tries to keep them apart, bloodsuckers, witches, mundanes, nobody! As long as they finally get together, I don't care who gets hurt."

Apparently, Jermaine was not in agreement with Carmelo's theory. "Brah! I think your Marfan Syndrome is screwing up your cognitive, like, processes, bro, because that's wack," he said in reply. "Ain't no way mah girl Sookie gonna turn out like that, all desperado and shit."

The football-kicking hunk placed the laptop on the coffee table, sat down like he owned the place, and immediately looked with intimidating intensity directly at Cristiano sitting beside him. "Give me the remote, you pussy," he said. Over Skype, Carmelo snorted with approval of his friend's manliness.

Forlorn Cris looked up at Michelle, the offense and hurt writ plain on his sculpted face, but when he saw that no pity was forthcoming he handed over the remote and stormed off toward the back of the house. Moments later, the sound of a bath being filled escaped through the closed bathroom door, as well as the scent of strawberry bubble gum bubble bath. The Bath and Body Works product line is always a source of comfort.

Michelle Wie sighed dramatically, removing her bejeweled headdress and shaking her sleek raven locks. "Play nice, children." She thought carefully about her next move. "Gosh, I'm starving-Jer, do you want something to eat?"

She arched her back in a cat-like stretch. "I could just murder a banana."

_ _

Want to see what happens next with Wiely, Cris, Jer, and the rest of "da gang"? Then keep checking the Clarion website for the next steamy installment of our SEO story series, tentatively titled "The Fault in Our Algerian Stars."

<< Back to Issue 17, 2014