A story of best friends, matching Lululemon jumpsuits, a birthday party, and one spectacularly muddy afternoon.
Chapter 1: Fashionably Late
Kristine and Andrea had been best friends for twelve years, and if there was one thing everyone knew about them, it was that they could turn an ordinary afternoon into an unforgettable disaster.
On Saturday, they were already running forty minutes late for their friend Melissa’s birthday party.
“ANDREA! Where are my sunglasses?”Kristine shouted from the hallway.
“Check your head!” Andrea yelled back.
Kristine reached up. Her sunglasses were sitting on top of her head.
“Oh. Right.”
Andrea emerged from the bedroom, laughing,dressed in a sleek black Lululemon jumpsuit that fitted neatly from her shoulders to her ankles. Kristine wore an almost identical one. Both women had white sneakers,ponytails, and matching little belt bags. They had spent nearly an hour getting ready,determined to look effortlessly stylish.
Kristine examined them in the mirror.
“We look incredible.”
“We look expensive,” Andrea corrected.
“And we are absolutely not getting these outfits dirty today.”
Andrea raised her hand solemnly. “I swear on my entire Lululemon collection.”
Neither of them realized how quickly that promise would be broken.
They jumped into Kristine’s SUV and headed toward the countryside, where Melissa was hosting her birthday party at a property with a barbecue area, a large lawn, and an old clay quarry nearby.
They arrived late, hungry, and ready to celebrate.
They would leave the quarry looking like two people who had attempted to wrestle an entire hillside.
Chapter 2: The Party Gets Out of Hand
Melissa greeted them at the gate.
“You're forty minutes late!”
“Fashion takes time,” Kristine announced.
Melissa looked them up and down. “You wore matching jumpsuits?”
“Obviously,” Andrea said. “We're a package deal.”
Music played across the lawn, guests mingled around the food tables, and someone handed the women drinks. They promised to pace themselves, but as the afternoon wore on,their promises became less convincing.
One drink became another. They danced, sang along to the music, and attempted to teach Melissa’s uncle a complicated dance routine.
By late afternoon, both were visibly tipsy and laughing at practically everything.
Then Andrea spotted the clay quarry beyond the property.
“Oh my gosh, Kristine. Imagine the pictures!”
Kristine turned toward the reddish-brown clay banks.
“No.”
“Just one picture!”
“No, Andrea. We have expensive outfits.”
“Two pictures?”
“Absolutely not.”
Five minutes later, the two best friends were walking toward the quarry with their phones out.
They stayed well away from the steep quarry face, approaching only a broad,muddy patch of level ground near the lower bank. Unfortunately, recent rain had left the clay slick, sticky, and treacherous.
Andrea pointed at the scenery.
“Tell me this isn't the perfect photo location.”
Kristine smiled at the camera.
“It is perfect.”
Her sneaker slid.
Her smile disappeared.
And the afternoon descended into chaos.
Chapter 3: Ten Faceplants in the Clay
Faceplant No. 1: Kristine Goes Down
Kristine stepped backward to frame the quarry in the background.
Her white sneaker landed on a slippery patch of reddish clay.
“Oh, cra—!”
Her feet slid forward, her arms shot into the air, and she fell straight forward, landing face-first in the soft mud.
SPLAT!
She lay still for a second, stunned.
Clay coated her forehead, nose, cheeks, and chin. Her hands and forearms were covered in brown muck, and her black jumpsuit was smeared across the chest, stomach, hips, thighs, knees, and shins.
Her once-white sneakers were already turning brown.
She slowly lifted her head.
“Andrea.”
Andrea had both hands over her mouth.
“Don't you dare laugh.”
Andrea made a strangled noise.
Then she burst out laughing.
“YOUR FACE!”
Kristine wiped her eyes with a muddy wrist.
“Help me up, you traitor!”
Faceplant No. 2: Andrea Joins the Disaster
Andrea reached down and grabbed Kristine’s hand.
“Come on. I've got you.”
She planted her feet firmly.
Or so she thought.
Her right sneaker slid forward, her left leg shot backward, and she toppled directly beside Kristine.
SPLOOOCH!
Andrea landed face-first in the same muddy patch.
Clay spread across her cheeks, nose, chin, and forehead. Both hands sank into the muck, and the front of her black jumpsuit became streaked from neckline to ankles.
She lifted her head and stared at Kristine.
For three seconds, neither spoke.
Then Kristine started laughing.
Andrea looked horrified.
“You said you'd help me!”
“I DID!”
“You pulled me down!”
“I didn't pull you down! Gravity did!”
Both women collapsed into helpless laughter,their muddy faces practically touching.
Faceplant No. 3: The Failed Get-Up
“Okay,” Kristine announced. “We are getting up. Slowly.”
Andrea nodded seriously.
They turned onto their knees and attempted to push themselves upright.
“One, two, three!”
Their sneakers slipped at exactly the same moment.
Both women pitched forward and landed face-first in the clay again.
PLOP! PLOP!
Kristine's hands disappeared into a shallow puddle. Andrea's elbows and knees were thoroughly coated, and muddy water spread across the front of her jumpsuit.
Their outfits were no longer simply stained. Clay had worked into the fabric at the shoulders, sleeves, waist, hips, thighs,and lower legs. Their ponytails had begun to loosen, and muddy strands stuck to their foreheads.
Kristine lifted her head.
“I hate this quarry.”
Andrea spat out a laugh.
“You loved it thirty seconds ago!”
“THAT WAS BEFORE IT ATTACKED ME!”
Faceplant No. 4: Andrea’s Brilliant Shortcut
Andrea noticed a patch of ground a few feet away that appeared firmer.
“Over there. That looks dry.”
Kristine narrowed her eyes.
“Nothing here is dry.”
“Trust me.”
“That's what you said before I fell.”
Andrea took three confident steps.
Her fourth step landed on a slick strip of clay.
Her foot slid forward, and she dropped onto her hands and knees before tipping forward into another faceplant.
WHUMP!
Her face pressed into the muddy ground,leaving a broad smear across her forehead and cheek.
Kristine hurried to help, forgetting that she was standing on the same slippery surface.
She slipped too, landing on her knees beside Andrea.
Andrea turned her head.
“Did you just fall trying to rescue me?”
Kristine glared at her.
“I'm beginning to think we're not very good at this.”
Andrea started laughing again.
Faceplant No. 5: Kristine's Revenge
Kristine decided she needed to prove that she could navigate the clay better than Andrea.
She stood with her feet apart, arms extended,and moved forward in tiny, careful steps.
“Observe,” she announced. “Balance. Coordination. Athletic ability.”
Andrea watched skeptically.
Kristine took one more step.
Her sneaker slid.
She windmilled her arms, stumbled forward,and landed face-first on a soft mound of clay.
THUD-SPLAT!
This was her messiest fall yet.
Clay covered her face from forehead to chin. Both sleeves were smeared almost to the elbows, and thick reddish-brown streaks ran down the front of her jumpsuit. Mud coated her knees, thighs, and shins, while her ponytail dragged through the earth.
Andrea stared.
“Balance! Coordination! Athletic ability!”
Kristine raised her muddy head.
“Say one more word and I'm leaving you here.”
“You can't leave me. I know where your car keys are.”
Kristine tried to look angry.
Instead, she started laughing.
Faceplant No. 6: The Phone Rescue
Andrea suddenly remembered her phone.
It had fallen near a small puddle, its camera still running.
“My phone! I need that video!”
“Forget the phone!”
“It has all our pictures!”
Andrea crawled toward it, carefully placing her hands on the ground.
She was nearly there when one knee slipped sideways.
She tried to catch herself.
Her hands slid forward.
And down she went.
SPLOOOOCH!
Andrea landed face-first beside the phone.
Her jumpsuit was now coated in clay across the entire front, from the collar and chest down through her stomach, hips, thighs, knees, and ankles. Mud streaked the sides of her legs and sleeves, and both white sneakers were almost completely brown.
She picked up the phone with one muddy hand.
The screen showed a video of her falling.
She watched the last few seconds.
Then she began laughing so hard she nearly dropped it again.
“Kristine! I GOT THAT ON VIDEO!”
Kristine stared at her.
“Delete it.”
“Never.”
Faceplant No. 7: The Dramatic Walk
Andrea propped the phone against a rock on stable ground.
“We need a dramatic walk toward the camera.”
Kristine looked at her in disbelief.
“We've fallen six times.”
“Exactly. The audience needs a conclusion.”
They stood side by side.
Their matching black Lululemon jumpsuits were now almost unrecognizable beneath the reddish-brown clay. Their faces were streaked, their hands were muddy, their ponytails were disheveled, and their sneakers were filthy.
They began walking toward the phone.
Kristine took two steps.
Andrea took three.
Kristine slipped and fell forward onto her hands before landing face-first in the mud.
Andrea tried to step around her.
Her foot slid.
She toppled forward beside Kristine.
SPLAT! SPLAT!
The camera recorded both faceplants in perfect detail.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Andrea's voice emerged from the mud.
“That's a wrap.”
Kristine raised her head.
“That's a lawsuit against the ground.”
Faceplant No. 8: The Great Escape
The women finally agreed that it was time to return to the birthday party.
They linked arms and started across the muddy patch toward the firmer path.
“Small steps,” Kristine instructed.
“Tiny steps,” Andrea agreed.
They moved forward cautiously.
Then Andrea's sneaker slid backward.
She grabbed Kristine's arm.
Kristine lost her footing too.
Both women lurched forward and landed face-first in a muddy puddle.
PLOP! PLOP!
Mud splashed across their jumpsuits and sneakers.
Andrea's face was coated from forehead to jaw, while Kristine's cheeks and chin were streaked with thick clay. Their sleeves were soaked, the knees and lower legs of their outfits were heavily stained, and clay clung to the seams and folds of the technical fabric.
Kristine slowly turned her head.
“Eight.”
Andrea blinked.
“Eight what?”
“Faceplants. We're keeping count.”
Andrea thought for a moment.
“That's actually impressive.”
“It's a cry for help.”
Faceplant No. 9: The Last Selfie
By now, the two women were exhausted, muddy, and laughing at their own ridiculous situation.
Andrea insisted on one final selfie.
“One picture. Then we leave.”
Kristine reluctantly agreed.
They stood on a flatter patch of ground, leaned together, and smiled.
Andrea held up the phone.
“Say birthday!”
“BIRTHDAY!”
Kristine noticed a blob of clay on Andrea’s shoulder and reached to brush it away.
Andrea turned at the same moment.
Their heads bumped.
They staggered in opposite directions, tried to regain their balance, and both fell forward.
Kristine landed face-first in the mud.
Andrea followed, landing face-first beside her.
SPLORCH!
Their ninth faceplant was complete.
The selfie camera captured their muddy faces just before they fell, followed by a spectacular close-up of the ground.
Andrea stared at the result.
“Honestly? That's our best picture.”
Kristine wiped clay from her cheek.
“We look like we've been rejected by a pottery studio.”
“An exclusive pottery studio.”
“An expensive one.”
Faceplant No. 10: The Grand Finale
The women were finally approaching the firmer path back to the party when Kristine spotted a grassy patch.
“GRASS!” she shouted. “Actual grass!”
She hurried toward it.
Andrea followed.
Kristine stepped onto the grass, unaware that the ground beneath it was still slippery.
Her feet shot forward.
She landed face-first on the damp grass with a final, magnificent splat.
Andrea attempted to stop, but her sneakers slid too.
She stumbled over Kristine's legs and landed face-first beside her.
SPLOOOOOOCH!
For several seconds, neither woman moved.
Their black Lululemon jumpsuits were covered in reddish-brown clay from head to toe. Mud streaked their shoulders, sleeves, chests, stomachs, hips, thighs, knees, calves, and ankles. Their hands and forearms were caked, their faces were smeared with mud, their ponytails were disheveled, and their white sneakers had turned almost entirely brown.
Their bags were splattered, their clothes were soaked in places, and neither outfit looked remotely like the sleek athletic wear they'd proudly put on that morning.
Kristine slowly turned her head.
“Ten.”
Andrea lifted one muddy finger.
“Ten faceplants.”
Kristine nodded.
“We should get a trophy.”
Andrea began laughing.
Kristine joined in.
Soon they were lying side by side on the grass, laughing so hard that they couldn’t even attempt to stand.
Chapter 4: The Birthday Party Shock
When Kristine and Andrea finally returned to the party, the music was playing, the barbecue was still going, and Melissa was preparing to cut her birthday cake.
The two women appeared at the entrance to the lawn.
The entire party seemed to stop.
Melissa lowered her cake knife.
Someone dropped a paper plate.
A guest holding a drink slowly turned around.
Kristine and Andrea stood there, covered in clay from head to toe, looking like they’d been used as props in a very unfortunate construction project.
Melissa stared at them.
“What happened to you?”
Kristine raised both hands.
“The quarry won.”
Andrea nodded solemnly.
“Ten to zero.”
Melissa looked at their ruined outfits.
“You've been gone for twenty minutes!”
“It's been a very long twenty minutes,” Kristine explained.
Someone spotted Andrea's phone.
“Is that a video?”
Andrea grinned.
“Oh, it's a video.”
Within minutes, the birthday guests had gathered around to watch the footage. They saw Kristine's first fall, Andrea's failed rescue, the repeated attempts to stand up, the disastrous dramatic walk, and the grand finale.
The party erupted in laughter.
Melissa nearly cried watching the tenth faceplant.
“I cannot believe you managed to fall ten times!”
Kristine shook her head.
“Neither can we.”
Andrea looked down at their outfits.
“Our jumpsuits are finished.”
“Your jumpsuits are legendary,” Melissa corrected.
The guests supplied old towels and spare clothes, and someone helped them rinse the thickest clay from their hands and faces with a garden hose. Even after rinsing, their outfits remained stained and muddy, with clay packed into the seams and folds.
The women changed into borrowed sweatshirts and spent the rest of the evening drinking water, eating birthday cake, and listening to their friends replay the video.
Their matching outfits were ruined for the day, their sneakers were filthy, and their reputations had taken a dramatic turn.
But they had given Melissa the most entertaining birthday story of her life.
Chapter 5: The Lululemon Laundromat Reunion
The next morning, Kristine and Andrea met at a laundromat with their jumpsuits packed into separate bags.
Kristine looked exhausted.
Andrea looked delighted.
“I've watched the video twelve times,” Andrea announced.
“Twelve?”
“Thirteen, actually.”
Kristine covered her face.
“Please tell me you haven't sent it to anyone.”
Andrea's silence was answer enough.
“ANDREA!”
“Only the birthday group chat!”
Kristine groaned, then began laughing despite herself.
They loaded their jumpsuits into a washing machine and watched the muddy black fabric tumble behind the glass.
“Do you think they'll survive?” Andrea asked.
Kristine considered the water turning brown.
“Maybe the washing machine will file a complaint.”
Andrea snorted.
“Next time, we're wearing matching raincoats.”
“And waterproof boots.”
“And we're staying away from quarries.”
Kristine nodded.
“Especially after drinking.”
They watched the machine spin for another minute before Andrea pulled out her phone.
“Ready to watch faceplant number ten again?”
Kristine tried to look stern.
She really did.
But when Andrea played the clip of their simultaneous tumble onto the grass, Kristine burst out laughing.
Soon both women were doubled over, reliving every ridiculous moment of the previous day.
They might have lost their pristine outfits, but they'd gained a legendary story, a videotape that would haunt them for years, and another unforgettable memory of their friendship.
And from that day onward, whenever either woman said, “Don't worry, I've got you,” the other would immediately reply:
“Remember the quarry. Ten faceplants. Zero dignity. Never again.”
Until their next adventure, of course.
The end.