Stare'S Eurovision Entry

~ Stare's Eurovision Entry ~


It so happened that Stare was in London on an art trip one day when she saw a sign stuck lop-sidedly on a nearby wall. 'Deary me' thought Stare, 'I'd never have things looking like that in my art room.' But as she tutted to herself, her eyes were already translating the poster.
It read... 'Eurovision Contest' - entrants required, please apply within. Stare suddenly realised what the message meant - she had to enter! She'd win cords down! So inside she rushed, to speak to the man behind the counter.
'Yes, missie' he greeted her. 'My name's Stary Eyes, thank you' she retorted, not too impolitely for fear of not being allowed to enter. 'Stary Eyes' said the man, and took a pen. 'That's right, GC Stary Eyes, to be preceyes,' she stated.
The man thanked Stare for her interest and gave her a form to fill in. She snatched the pen from his hand and began to fill it in immediately. 'Don't you want to read it first?' exclaimed the man. Stare briefly glanced up in a bland manner. 'I have done' she said impertinently.
When she had finished the form, the man handed her a cassette and said, 'well that seems fine. All I'll need is a tape of your vocals, and a copy of your notes.' Stare took a wondering glance at the man before leaving the room.
The next day, back in her home, Stare practiced swishing her eyes around, trying to generate the best sound she could for the tape. 'The silly man; if he wants a copy of my focals he should have given me a video tape. Never mind, I'll send a photocopy as well. Heaven knows why he wants to know what they sound like.' Nevertheless, Stare had soon recorded her cord swishes on tape.
Later on that day she saw Mrs Daisies pottering in the garden and played her the tape to see what she thought. 'Lovely,' said Mrs Daisies, wondering what Stare was on, but deciding to be polite anyway. Just then, Stare remembered the other entry requirement. 'Eye-oh, they want some notes' she flustered, and so pressed the red stop button and rushed inside to dig out her notes - not that they made any sense - she liked to keep her students confused.
Mrs Daisies continued to potter around in the garden, singing sweetly to herself, full of the joys of spring. Next to her, the tape recorder worked silently away.
So it was that, in two days time, the man at the Contest office opened Stare's envelope to be dismeyed. When he played the tape he was even more amazed. 'This singing is wonderful' he thought to himself.It was so good compared to the usual rubbish, that he dismissed the notes on Salvador Dali and the photocopy of what looked like two spring onions, without a second thought.
Later on that week, Stare was busy adding ointment to her sore cornea, when the post arrived. Amongst the flowery postcards for Mrs Daisies (she ordered one every day!) was the Eurovision envelope! Stare was so excited, her eyeballs nearly popped from their sockets. The letter invited her to go to Norway for the contest!! 'Yes' thought Stare, 'the chance of a lifetime' - 'noone has ever recogneyesed my talents for staring before'
And before long, she was packed and ready to set off. Stare's plane journey to Norway was hectic. She had invited Mrs Daisies to come along too, with the spare ticket, but she didn't expect the plane to be filled with the media. There were cameras everywhere.
'Oh deary me, I didn't expect all this attention' she thought. So most of the time she spent the journey trying to outstare the cameras. Mrs Daisies was the opposite. She shone with the attention. The cameras were very dull and metallic however, so she was forever putting daisy chains over them to make them prettier.
When they were in Eyeslo, the capital city, Stare and Mrs Daisies went to the hotel and spent the night drinking cocktails. The next morning they felt a bit worse for wear, but Stare soon came round with a few eyespirin. It was her big day after all! She didn't want to display her optical talents with bloodshot eyes - heavens no!
That evening they were ushered into a room in a massive building, with all the other contestants. Stare soon gathered that she was the one representing the United Kingdom, and she was delighted when she heard it called the 'Ooh-eye-oh, Mini.' She was told she was the fourth contestant, so she sat patiently waiting to go out, wondering what tricks she could perform. Just to be sure, she asked an attendant.
'What is it the judges are looking for' she enquired. 'I can understand you're nervous, madam,' he replied 'but just go out there and give it your best shot.' 'Ooh, sounds interesting' thought Stare. 'You'll have your backing artist there to help calm you, I'm sure' said the man, glancing across at Mrs Daisies. Before then Mrs Daisies hadn't been expecting to help. 'What should I paint' she whispered sugarily to Stare. 'I don't know' said Stare, becoming tetchy. 'Just don't steal the show from me.' 'I know,' said Mrs Daisies, ignoring Stare's rising temper, 'I'll paint some daisies.' 'Well make sure you do it in gouache - and not bright purple eyever' said Stare. 'We wouldn't want them to stand out like a sore thumb.'
When the first contestant came back she rushed to the toilets. Stare sat fidgeting while the second displayed her focals to the judges. The second contestant was Irish. When she finally returned, she looked exhausted!
'Not mush room out there on the stage' she said. 'Thank heavens for that' thought Stare.
When the third contestant had finished and came back through the door, Stare saw she was crying - either that or her plasma balance had overspilt. 'Must be tough' she thought.
With that, she gathered her pupils together, and led Mrs Daisies, with brushed and easel in hand, out onto the stage. Once she was there Stare realised what a large event it was. The arena was packed. The audience quietened down from their applause - many looked dumbfounded at Mrs Daisies and her paintbrushes.
'And here's number four' said the host. 'Her name is Stary Eyes, and she represents Ooh-eye-oh, Mini. She is going to perform...'Salvador Dali.' With that, he left the stage, and Stare and her flowery friend were alone. Stare slowly began to unwind her cords, but as she did so, she noticed the audience were paying no attention. They had all started sneezing!
'What's the matter' thought Stare. 'Why are they all sneezing?' Then she noticed. Mrs Daisies was at the side of the stage, throwing daisies to them all! 'No, Mrs Daisies, Stop!' said Stare, but soon her eyes were beginning to itch far too much for her to perform. Mrs Daisies finally ran out of flowers but by that time Stare had dragged herself back through the stage door to find some eyedrops. It was a disaster! She could never perform now. So with that Stare told the attendant who then asked Mrs Daisies to perform alone! The humiliation of it! Poor Stare. She retired to the back room again so she couldn't see or hear any of it.
In the arena, the show continued. 'Mrs Daisies will now represent the British entry, singing Daisy- Chains Forever' said the host. Mrs Daisies suddenly realised that they now wanted her to sing. And she did. She sang as sugarily as she could. The audience were entranced.
When it came to the voting Stare was convinced Mrs Daisies wouldn't win, for she couldn't display any eye talents at all. Mrs Daisies eyes were forever covered with mascara for a start. But Mrs Daisies ended up in second place! The Irish woman had won. Stare couldn't understand why, for she thought she had shifty eyes. But Mrs Daisies were still pleased, in a candy-lipped kind of way. Stare congratulated her, gulping down her indignation, like an eyeball in a bowl of soup before they went out on the town to celebrate in steyel.



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