Guy showed up with a pair of bicycle powered rickshaws.
Joe had just finished hanging up a hammock and was laying on it, just to test it. He almost jumped out of it when Guy rang the little bell on his rickshaw bike. “Whoa!” he said, “Dibs on the red one!”
Guy was riding on the red one, but secretly he had only done that because he knew that it would make his brother call dibs on it. “Because it is such a nice day, I won't argue.” He hopped off and got on the other bicycle. “So... let's go earn some big bucks!” He said, enthusiastically.
It was an idea Joe could endorse. Soon they were lounging in front of one of the many hotels, applying sunscreen, with a hastily but neatly written cardboard sign out that said:
-- Handsome Transport --
Pedalcures your aching feet.
Pele watched with approval, as much for the application of sunblock show as for the environmental transportation. She crossed her legs and smoothed her magma colored sun dress.
Melissa texted her sister in New York City. “I am going to take a bicycle rickshaw ride, pedaled by THESE TWO GUYS.” Followed by an evil laugh smiley, because she was seeing them in person, and her sister was only seeing a photo.
She got to the bike taxis at the exact same moment as a man who looked so much like “Weird” Al Yankovic, but without stage make up or his hair done that she had to swiftly choose ONLY ONE brother.
“Do you charge extra if I play accordion while you pedal?” The “Weird” dude was asking.
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“OMG SQUEEE!” Melissa texted. She sent the pictures she took with her cell phone. Then as she got into the other brother's bicycle taxi she said the golden words everyone wants to say at least once in their life: “Follow that cab.” Meaning the one with guy playing his accordion.
Eventually the two cabs pedaled side by side, and the fellow with the accordion who looked so much like “Weird” Al and whose name happened to be Al, started to explain. “I am here to do a benefit. Did you know about the coqui frog? It is an invasive species from Puerto Rico, and while quite adorable...” He modeled his Hawaiian shirt, which was covered in images of coqui, with little black cross hairs over them each, “They are a bane to native species.”
“So what do you do about them?” Joe asked. “Because I can't see anyone wanting to shoot anything that small. Nor am I an advocate of hunting in general.” He turned and grinned at his brother's passenger, who was rather awesome.
She took his picture. Then send it to her sister, along a buns shot of her own chauffeur.
“Well, some people spray them with orange juice,” Al said, fingering his keyboard silently, although “Weird” Al music was playing mysteriously in the back ground, “But I don't hold with violence. Even if it has antioxidants and vitamin C.”
“Ah,” Guy said, “so what approach do you favor.”
“Thousands of volunteers running through the tropical forest and grabbing coqui and shoving them in sacks for eventual repatriation,” Al replied, “And then beer and hula in the evenings.”
Melissa said: “I could get behind that.”
Our next episode: “Applause”
