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Where’d You Get Those Eyes?

The “Geepers-Creepers-Where’d-You-Get-Those-Peepers” Most Beautiful Eyes Contest was about to start. Ocular-obsessed contestants gathered at the fairground’s grandstand. A panel of judges in white and red striped suit coats waltzed out of the bunny barn, clipboards in hand.
“Line up!” A judge with the heavy horned rimmed glasses shouted, “Shoulder to shoulder so we can see eye to eye!” The contestants tittered as they filed awkwardly and stood at attention.
One by one the judges shuffled, stopped, and peered into the exquisite eyes of the vision vain. Judge Number Three actually employed the services of a magnified glass to make his careful assessments.
Every blue-eyed, brown-eyed, green-eyed contender knew how to battle for the banner of binocular beauty. Some raised eyebrows, some batted lashes, some looked surprised in effort be the stand-out star. Contestant Garth strategically took his place the end of the line knowing his iridescent irises would blow the judges away if could expose his eyeballs periodically to unobstructed solar rays. When the first judge side stepped before him, Garth lifted his chin while he bared his globes widely until he felt the familiar warming of his irises. He by the way Judge Number One coughed into his clipboard that he had achieved the startling of turquoise that led him to victory at other country fairs.
Judge Number Two locked eyes with Garth’s speckled jewels and raised his own eyebrows revealing slightly bloodshot and yellowed corneas. A blaze of crimson flushed his cheeks before he hastily joined Judge Number One, who was also visibly shaken.
Judge Number Three was more stable. He leaned in closely with his magnifying glass when he came to Garth. He scrutinized the sides of Garth’s nearly glowing discs to make sure there it wasn’t a trick of colored contacts. He shrugged his shoulders and met the other judges.
The men didn’t even have to consult their clipboards. Garth was the obvious winner. Never in all of their years of judging had they ever witnessed such unusual irises. Turquoise for Pete’s sake!
Still shaking their heads, judges presented Garth with the customary jar of bread and butter pickles and a pair of Foster Grants. Press cameras snapped though they’d never capture the man’s Caribbean coasters in black and white. Finally after the crowds thinned, Judge Number Two watched as Garth strolled from the grandstand in the direction of the midway. He stared as the man cut his way to the front at the flying saucer ride. Garth climbed in, shut the metallic door, and in less than three seconds blasted straight up into the sky. At the height of the Ferris wheel, the craft shot across the horizon leaving a faint turquoise trail.

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