Okay, hang in there, the danm update is almost over.
Page 22 of 26
The old basterd scolded like a washerwoman, "I DONE TOLE YOU TO STAY OUT THE LAUNDRY ROOM. BUT YOU DIDNT LISSEN."
Zeke groaned a giant brotosaurus stuck in the La Brea Tar Pits.
"I cain't git loose. My foot is burnin' up like blazes. and it smells RIGHT STANKY!"
Granfather replied with calm sadism, "WAAL, JEST SLIP YER FOOT OUT."
"Ah cain't Little Brother! These here are special mold orthopedic shoes. I need mah boot jack!"
"WELL, AIN'T THAT TOO BAD ZEKEY. DON'T WORRY. THEY'LL BE MELTED BY MORNING."
Uncle Zeke started wailing that they cost $190 a pair and besides he coud not stay in there that long with the stink or he'd die. Granfather repleid back that this is what Zeke gets for bein a dumbass.
"This was a trap!", Zeke bawled.
"YOU BETCH' YO' ASS IT WERE A TRAP," Gramps grumped. Just then Junior walked in, stumbolling over his feet with the cane and bobboling the bottles of beer very carefully being that Granfather thretenned him not to drop none or else hed make him lap it up with his tounge broken glass and all.
"SPEAKING OF DUMBASSES, HERE'S JUNIOR," said Gramps, still taunting his brother in his condescending pontiffical tone, "A MAN WHOSE I.Q. APPROACHES THAT OF A CHOCOLATE CHIP, AND WHO IS CLEARLY DUMBER THAN YOU EVER WAS ZEKEY, BUT WHO AT LEAST GOT HORSE SENSE.
"TELL HIM WHY JUNIOR."
"'Cause I always obey Grampy when he done tells me whut to do," Junior said proudly.
"RIGHT ON TIME," said Grampy, "THE PIG MAN'S HERE." Granfather calls Stu 'The Pig Man'. It is kindof rude but he never says it to his face. When Stu came inside Granfather explianed to both of us that he is coming along for the ride. I tried to keep him from NOT going, but the old basterd woud not let up.
"I INSIST ON GOING WITH Y'ALL TONIGHT FOR PURPOSES OF MORAL SUPPORT. OR SHOUD I SAY: IMMORAL SUPPORT. HEH-HEH-HEH."
I put Duwayne' wifebeater teeshirt on, and sort of mussed up my hair a bit. I tried to get into charactor. This was somthing I had to do. I coud not submit to another abusive physical pawing maul-fest from the Psycho biker chick. I tell you, I do NOT, "belong to her." Nosiree, bob.
Stu also told me that he woud pay any summons for me too, on his Cyberblop corporate Amex cards.
"It's easy: This chick is affecting your work pefformance," Stu shrugged. It's business expense."
A large clattor suddenly came from the back of the trailor as Uncle Zeke, after initially rising himself up halfway, once again fell backwords, (and we later found out, twisted his ankle) from tryin to strouggle his foot free from the gluey land mine. Though he remained stuck, the laundryroom door spawled open as Zeke tumbled out.
As he fell his head hit the centor hallway with a loud clank like a bowling ball on a tin roof.
"Lord hab massy!" he cried, laying there prone and looking down the hall into the kitchen, "That boy looks like a hog!"
Stu bit his lip and I opened my mouth to say somthing in sympathy but he touched my arm, whisperring, "Forget it Walt. I hear it all the time."
We get in the car, and Tilde was already sittin in there. I said, "What are YOU doing here!" Knowing how pissed I woud be, since she (once agian as usual) blabbored to Granfather behind my back, she would not look me in the eye. But she did manage to squeak out that she is coming along out of "moral support."
"Walter help me! Help me!" he blubbored in broken English. He was weeping and in tears, hystericol.
"I cannot address crowd! I cannot face masses! I am in terror!"
I said to him, "Igor calm down!"
But he kept up, and cried about his fear of public speaking. He wanted me to appeal to Peaches, but I coud not. Peaches hated me too.
"Please! Make me face firing squad! Send me to gulag! Make me eat bread covered with maggot. But I cannot share HERCULES TEAM POSITIONING STATEMENT.
"It is so stupid!" he wailed, "To share Internet marketing statement in public is to be PROSTITUTE! Boo-hoo-hoo!"
Igor, I figured, as I hung up the phone on the poor blubboring foreigner, was either the dumbest person or else the most principled persen I ever worked with.
As we climbed into the car Granfather said, "TOO BAD THAT FELLER WHO CALLED YOU AIN'T ON THE TESTACLEES TEAM -- THEN HE'D HAVE THE BALLS TO TALK IN FRONT OF ANYONE! HEEE-HEE-HEE!" he laughed like a derranged chimp.
I said to him, "Granfather I have heard that same lame 'Testaclees' joke for half my whole danm life. It is not funny and please stop it now."
He scowled at me. "I WILL GET YOU FOR THIS, BWAH."
"Get me for what?"
"I DUNNO. I'LL THINK O'SUMPTIN."
"WALTER WAS A BED WETTER AS A CHILD," he said with maliciousley phony concern, "DID YOU KNOW THAT MA'AM?"
Tilde answered, "Oh Yes, Grampy I did!"
"ALSO, THE BOY USED TO PLAY WITH DOLLS AS A CHILD TOO."
Tilde said, "Oh my! I didn't know that!"
"NOW, DON'T GO SHARING THAT IN NO STAFF MEETING OR NOTHIN' -- BUT PLEASE UNDERSTAND THE HURT HE FEELS FROM IT."
"Oh, dear!" shrieked Tilde.
"OH, PORE, PORE, LIL' OLD WALTER," the blackhearted devil beast basterd contineud, "IF ONLY SOMEONE -- SOMEONE SPECIAL, SOMEONE WHO CARES ABOUT THE LIL' DUMBASS -- COUD TAKE AWAY HIS PAIN."
"MEBBE THAT PERSON COUD BE YOU, TILDE."
I wanted Stu to pull the car over so i coud smack the basterd but Stu was tryin to tell me something. It was somthin I did NOT want to hear.
"Listen, Walt, Cathyann is bringing the booze and the baseball bat. She's meeting us there."
I said "WHAT?" Stu told me that she wanted to help coach me on how to be a perfect drunken disturbence in public.
"YOU'RE PURTY LUCKY BOY," Granfather interupted, "ME AND YER GIRLFRIEND--AND DONT DENY SHE'S YER GIRLFRIEND -- US TWO IS IS THE TWO BIGGEST EXPERTS IN THE COUNTY...SAY TILDE DEAR, DID I EVER TELL YOU HOW SENSITIVE THE BOY IS ABOUT HIS BIG PORES?"
"Why no Grampy," she trilled back in concern.
"JUST LOOK AT THE POOR UGLY FELLER THAR IN THE REAR-VIEW.
"ALL THEM BIG-ASS PORES. WHY, HIS FACE DONE LOOKS LIKE A DAMN PORNO THUMBNAIL SCREEN WHERE THE IMAGES NEVER LOAD, AND ALLS YOU GET IS A PAGE FULLA EMPTY OLD HOLES."
Tilde furrowwed her brow, peering at me and said, "Oh dear!"
Cathyann rolled down her window and grinned, "I almost squarshed the bitch's mailbox FOR yuh, Walt! BWAHAHAHAH!
"I LIKE HANGIN' WITH ALL YOU YOUNG 'UNS. -- 'CEPT WALTER, OF COURSE," he said breezily as we all five crowded into Stu's Lexus.
"LET'S BLAZE A BONE. WHO GOT SOME POT?"
I whispored to Stu, who I was now pressed against in the front seat, being that Cathyann wedged herself into the car next to me.
"Stu, we have to get rid of Granfather. Please."
He whispered back, "I'll think of something."
"DID I EVER TELL Y'ALL ABOUT ABOUT HOW I CRASHED WOODSTOCK BACK IN SIXTY-NINE?
"BOYS AND GIRLS, WE NOT ONLY STOPPED A WAR, WE DONE CLOSED DOWN THE NEW YORK STATE THRUWAY."
I whispored to Stu, "Granfather was NOT at Woodstock, and acording to my Dad the old basterd supported the war." As Granfather rambled on about his reputation for bein a "party animal," (when the truth is, alls he is is just a plain animol), I told Stu that I had to be alone with Cathyann.
"Yes, me and her have to be alone -- It's not what you think," I told him.
Stu cleared his throat and said, "Hey, Grampy. I'm game. Let's go score some weed."
The grisly beast's face brightened.
"FINE BY ME, SNOUT-BOY. BUT I'M JUST WARNING YOU. I NOT ONLY INHALE, I'VE BEEN KNOWN TO DRINK THE BONG WATER."
Stu whispered to me, "I'm just gonna drive him around for a while.
"Maybe if I find a 7-Eleven I'll get him some dried parsley."