Brotherly Love

Frank and Al were competitive brothers. In fact, they were so competitive with one another that one of them would probably not be here hadn´t it been for the intervention of their dear mother on various occasions. A strange twist to their rivalry was that they could never use the same strategy the other used to succeed. It was an unspoken rule, but followed to the letter.

In high school when Frank started to excel in football, on the offensive side of the ball, Al went on to become the best defensive player. When Al took up and had success in boxing, Frank became all state in wrestling. When Frank excelled in the exact sciences, Al became the best student in the school in the liberal arts.

Their paths converged when they became adults. Both found their way into the toy business and both became the best in the industry. Frank ran the most prestigious toy company making high end luxury toys. Al led a toy company with a name no one would recognize but just about every house in the US had at least three of his products. His toys were cheap and ubiquitous.

Frank looked at Al as a junk peddler who inundated the US market with cheap Chinese trinkets. Al looked at Frank as a fraud who overcharged dopey rich people out of their money for nothing more than mere status symbols worth a fraction of the price charged.

Secretly, both wanted a little of what the other had. Frank wanted to move a little more volume and Al wanted a little more prestige for his company. Neither had the humility to ask the other for advice.

At the same time, almost to the day, both came up with what they thought was a unique, genius idea. They would send corporate spies to the other´s company to pick up a tip or two. Within a few months, both got wind of what the other was doing.

What hurt each one the most was the thought that the other copied their idea. This was a betrayal of the highest level, even though it was not true. They did in fact come up with the idea individually.

Again, both had another strike of coincidental genius at the same exact moment. They were going to have the other killed. Frank wanted Al´s killing to look like a car accident and Al wanted Frank´s killing to look like a botched robbery. Both put their unstoppable plans in motion.

A few weeks later Al´s car was ran off a cliff. The car rolled for almost a quarter mile before stopping, only to go up in flames. Frank was shot in the forehead while he withdrew money from an ATM late in the night. Miraculously, both survived.

Due to a request from their mother, their motionless bodies laid next to one another in the intensive care unit .Although their bodies were without activity, their brains were not. There was only one single thought churning through both heads: “I´m going to recover so much better than that jerk over there”

Attack of the Killer Imagination!

“I wish he could talk to me” Ben told his mother. He was referring to his favorite teddy bear Chase.

“If you use your imagination, Ben, he can” his mother answered, barely paying attention to the boy.

Ben´s eyes lit up with the possibilities. His mother´s words echoed in his head, “If you use your imagination…..”

A few moments passed and Ben snapped out of his trance. He grabbed his teddy bear off the floor and told his mother he was going to his room.

Once in his room, Ben sat the teddy bear at the head of the bed as if the bear needed to relax. He went into his closet. He took a shoe lace from one of his sneakers. He proceeded to tie it around the bears neck.

“You´re gonna talk and you´re gonna talk now” Ben said.

The bear just looked at him with his plastic eyes reflecting Ben´s angry face.

“You´re gonna be a hero, huh?” and with that Ben tightened the shoe lace.

Still, the teddy bear gave no satisfaction to Ben. Ben wound up an elbow and struck it across the bear´s face. “Talk!” he said. He struck the bear a few more times.

“Okay, okay!” the bear finally said. “What do you want to know?”

“I knew you weren´t so tough!” Ben said, triumphantly. “I want to know what Mom got me for Christmas and I want to know now!”

“How the fuck should I know?” the bear answered.

“Hey, watch your mouth!” Ben said.

“It´s your imagination who is doing the talking, pal” the bear answered defiantly.

“Yeah, you right. But back to the subject. What did Mom get me for Christmas?” Ben asked again.

“I don´t know!” Either I am with you or I am in your room. It´s not like I can just get up and walk around the house you know!” the bear said.

Ben thought quickly. If imagining gets the bear to talk, then maybe imagining can get him to move. “You´re gonna figure it out for me one way or another” Ben said.

“Fuck you” the bear said.

“I said stop that!” Ben complained.

“Again, you are in charge here….Hello?!” the bear said in a snarky tone.

“True. But anyway, tonight, when my mom is asleep, I´m gonna want you to go into her room and look in her closet. I need to know what I´m getting” Ben said.

“That´s a stupid fucking idea. You know your mom is a light sleeper” the bear said.

Ben was furious at the bear´s foul mouth. He let it go this time. He simply said, “You´ll make it work. I´ll use my imagination”

Later that night when the house was quite and still, the alarm Ben set on his cell phone went off. He looked over at Chase the Bear´s chair but he was not there. With his legs still on the mattress he leaned off the side of the bed and had a look under. Nothing. He was sure he had put Chase in his chair before nodding off to sleep.

The he felt as if a small animal had jumped on the other side of the bed. He jumped up. There were no pets in the house since his beloved cat died three months earlier. Then he felt a weight on his chest and something fury forcing its way into his mouth. It was Chase!

“I am so sick and tired of you kid” Chase said as he shoved his arm into Ben´s mouth and covered his nose with the other.

Ben couldn´t make a sound. He felt powerless against the otherwise weightless bear. The more he wanted to struggle the more he could not. Tears were streaming down his eyes.

“This is just your imagination, kid” Chase said. “You´re in control here”

All Ben could do was cry. His head started to feel light. He couldn´t hear much. His desperation was rounding the curve and turning into an eerie calm. Then, he felt a vibration by his side. Then he heard a familiar music start to play. Softly at first, gradually getting louder.

All of a sudden he felt sweet air fill his lungs. He looked around. His face was dry. No tears had fallen. He looked to his side. Chase was sitting there just as he had left him there.

That day Ben decided to think twice before using his imagination.

Life is Short

“So how old are you now, Fuli?” Femi asked.
“Fifteen” Fuli answered.
“Fifteen?!?! By your size I thought you were at least 20 days old!” Femi said.
“I get that a lot. Since the family got that new puppy, I´ve been eating a lot” Fuli said proudly.
“Yeah, that little pup leaves meals all over the house! It´s great” Femi said.
Fuli got serious for a moment. “Are you scared?”
“Why would I be?” Femi asked.
“Well, you´ve been around for what, like 28 days? You´re not going to be around much longer. Does that scare you?” Fuli asked.
“You´re too young to be thinking that way. Besides, why be scared of what you cannot control? I look at it this way, I have two glorious days to live. Two days that I get to enjoy the bounty the little dog leaves all over the floor. Two days to see you get even bigger and stronger!” Femi said as a tear rolled down his eye.
“You´re right” said Fuli. “Hmm, what´s that smell? It´s a little sweet…” Fuli began to cough. He felt dizzy. He didn´t notice that his uncle had already fallen to the floor stiff. His world too went black.
As Mandy stood there with the insecticide in her hand she pondered aloud “Why the hell does god put these creatures on Earth anyway?”

Pot Apocalypse Part 2

Please read Part 1 before indulging in this episode: Pot Apocalypse Part 1

Slim left the house hungry. He figured that when he got back, his mother would be there and then she would be able to serve him. As he made his way to the store to buy a lighter, he noticed that there were very few people on the streets. Businesses were closed. There were not very few people on the street. There were no people on the street.

As he walked up to the store and pulled on the door, he noticed it was locked. “What the…..” he thought to himself. He pulled out his cell phone. There was no signal. He tried to call his friend, Dean but there was no service. He started to get a little worried but he remembered he was high and that was enough to calm him down. “Must be the weed buggin me out” he thought. He decided to walk to Dean´s house. There was another store on the way and it was only a fifteen minute walk.

As he made his way to Dean´s he noticed the other store, a 24 hour convenient store, was closed as well. He decided to pick up his pace a little. Now he was coming down a little but still feeling a little paranoid. Now he was starting to worry.

He finally got to Dean´s house and banged on the door. The door opened just enough, with the chain still attached, for Dean to yell out “Who is it?”

“It´s Slim, let me in”

“Ok” Dean said. He closed the door so he could undo the chain. The door swung open and Dean grabbed slim by the arm and pulled him in.

“What the fuck is going on man?” Dean asked Slim.

“What are you talking about?” Slim asked, his paranoia increasing tenfold.

“Nobody´s around, man! They all disappeared. Haven´t you noticed?” Dean asked before putting his mouth to a medium sized bong and ripping a hit.

“Yeah, I noticed that something is weird. All the stores are closed” Slim said as he reached for the bong. “Let me hit it, yo”  of course Dean obliged.

“Does you cell phone work?” Dean asked.

“No” Slim answered as a billow of smoke left his mouth.

“Let´s go to Be´s house to see if he´s ok. You´re the first person I saw all day. I´m kind of freaked here, man” Dean said.

The two burned the rest of the contents in the comically large bowl and started off for their friend Be´s house.  Not before sitting around for some time though.

Day Trippin

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was a normal day for Sphynx, a black tabby house cat; a day that consisted of laying around and occasionally licking herself. During one vigorous paw licking session, a movement caught her eye. “That´s strange” she thought. All the people had left for the day. She had the house to herself. Again,a blur streaked across the floor. Oh damn, she thought. Another mouse. The people are going to expect her to do something about this. Oh how she hated being bothered by such things as mice.

She noticed that the mouse was coming and going under a poorly installed piece of baseboard at one particular spot. She decided to wait out the mouse there. At least she could get her quota of relaxing in as she waited. She waited and waited. She even fell asleep while on sentry. She was in a deep slumber when she was gently awoken with taps on her nose.

She slowly opened her eyes and was shocked to find it was the mouse, tap, tap, tapping.

“I´m sorry to bother you ma’am but I cannot seem to find a water source in this house” the mouse said.

“You´ve got to be kidding me” Sphynx thought. “What?” was the only thing that Sphynx was able to mutter.

“Well, I´ve found food in the western part of the house but I have yet to find water” the mouse said.

“Surely you are not asking this because you plan on staying long term. As the cat of the house I cannot allow that!” Sphynx said.

“You see, winter is setting in and the food at the last house I was staying at got tainted. I would eat it and hallucinate something crazy. The same food killed the rest of my family but I would eat it and see things and hear things. Beautiful things, sometimes awful things. It was no way to live!”

“Well I´m sorry but you cannot stay here. Either you leave peacefully or I´ll have to take care of you” Sphynx said, making air quotes during the last part.

“Can´t you just let me wait out the winter? I promise I´ll leave” the mouse pleaded.

Sphynx thought it over. He felt bad for the mouse. He had lost his family and all and furthermore, he dreaded the idea of actually having to do something.

“I´ll make a deal, you can stay but if the people see you, you either have to leave or I´ll be forced to take care of you” Sphynx said with more air quotes around, take care of you.

“Deal”.

The winter passed and the mouse proved to be great company. He was very intelligent and well spoken. He could tell a story like none other. But what Sphynx wanted to hear most was about the mouse´s psychedelic trips. The mouse relayed stories of how time and space melted and the lessons of love and connection he experienced. Sphynx grew more and more curious about the trips and how they could help him with his existential questions.

Spring came and one morning the mouse came to Sphynx. “A deal is a deal my friend. Spring is here. I guess I´ll be moving on.”

“Listen, I like you here. If you can continue to stay out of the eye of the people, for me, you can stay” Sphynx said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, but could you do me a favor? I want to be taken to the center of the universe as well! Can you go back to the other house and bring me back some of that food?” Sphynx asked.

“Sure I could, but it could be dangerous. Everybody else who ate it died!” the mouse said, truly concerned for his friend.

“That´s the risk I am willing to take to become enlightened” Sphynx said.

The day came. The mouse procured a decent amount of the magical food. It was a green, hard little rectangle the size of a matchbox and it smelled a little like peanut butter.

“How much did you eat?” Sphynx asked the mouse.

“Oh, just a little. We only nibbled on it” the mouse answered.

“I am bigger than you so I should take at least double. Actually I am many times your size, I´ll start with three times as much as you ate” Sphynx said.

“I don´t think that´s a good idea!” the mouse said.

“It´s ok. Take some with me. I don´t want to trip alone. You can guide me considering you have done this before” Sphynx said.

“Ok” said the mouse as they consumed their allotted dose of the magic food.

The mouse started to see the geometric patterns that he had grown accustomed to. Everything turned into right angles. He started to giggle. He had even forgot about his friend Sphynx. He was riding high on his journey when his thoughts went to his friend. He looked over. Sphynx was lying on his side. Must have passed out, he thought. Good for him.

When the mouse came to he went over to his friend who was in the same position as during the peak of his trip. He gently rapped his nose. Nothing. A little foam had formed at the corners of Sphinx’s mouth. The mouse grew desperate. Oh no! What had he done. He had killed his best friend in the whole world.

All of a sudden the mouse heard a shriek. “EEK, A MOUSE!” and his world went black.

With mascara tears dripping down her face and a broom in her hand, Sally could not believe that a mouse had killed her cat.

 

 

Pot Apocalypse Part 1

It was 11:00am. Slim’s cell phone barely wretched him out of his cannabis induced slumber. Without even opening his eyes, he reached over to the nightstand and felt for his bong. Splash!

“Damn!” Slim said, now wide awake. Sitting up, he could see the mess he had just made. There was dirty bong water on the carpet and the smell was terrible. “Mom is gonna kill me” he muttered to himself.

He made his way downstairs to get some paper towels and carpet cleaner. He tried his best to avoid his parents. His father would be easy to avoid. He had gone off to work over four hours ago. His mother would be tougher. She was probably in the kitchen making the pre-preparations for tonight´s dinner.

He snuck around the corner and peeked his head into the kitchen. No one was there. He felt relieved. He grabbed what he needed from under the sink and as quickly and deftly as he could, which was not very after years of constantly being under the effects of marijuana, he made his way to his room.

As he entered his room, he was hit with the awful smell of the bong water. He thought to himself that there was no way his mother wouldn´t smell this. He was about to attack his problem when he realized something. He hadn´t smoked yet. For Slim, the most satisfying smoke was the one after he had just woken up. He forgot about the smell, the worry that his mom would find out and about everything for that matter. What he needed at that moment was to get high. So he did.

He carefully picked the buds out of the carpet that had fallen out of the bowl of the bong and put them back to where they once were. He went to the bathroom to replace the water that was now staining the carpet. He was all ready. He went to put fire to the bowl and click…No flame. Click…no flame. “Awwww!” Slim said aloud. His lighter was out of fluid. He got on his hands and knees and looked under the bed for his emergency matches. “There they are” he said to himself, or out loud. At this point, Slim´s internal dialog sometimes made its way out of his mouth.

He struck the match and a beautiful flame danced on the tip of the small piece of wood. Slim marveled at it too long and it burned down to his finger tips rendering the match useless to light the bong. He struck another, this time putting it directly on the marijuana and sucking on the bong. After three massive hits from the bong he felt that familiar tightening behind his eyes.

Everything slowed down to the speed Slim liked to operate at. Concentrating on one thing was no longer easy and that was comfortable to him. Now that he had that familiar feeling, he was ready to go about cleaning the mess. But Slim felt the urge to use the bathroom so he grabbed his cell phone and went. Slim was so engrossed in a video game that he forgot about the mess and his legs had fallen asleep. He looked at the clock. He had been on the toilet for an hour. In that time, he had smoked the other half of a joint he must have started yesterday. Or another day. He really didn´t know. But he was baked. That he was sure of.

He went back into his room to put some clothes on. He was so high, not only did he forget about the mess, he did not notice the putrid smell of bong water and failed to see the cleaning supplies he had left on the floor next to the mess. He did see the lighter on the bed and remembered that he had to go to the store to buy another one.

He got dressed and went downstairs calling for his mother the whole way down. He was hungry and wanted breakfast. There was no response. It was a little odd, his mother usually did not leave to do her errands without having given Slim, a 29 year old unemployed man-child, his breakfast. But, if she had something really important to do, she would leave cereal in a bowl on the table with the right amount milk needed in a Pyrex pitcher off to the side.

Neither the bowl, nor the pitcher where on the table. That was odd. Now Slim was curious. “Guess I´ll have to get that lighter on an empty stomach, then” he said, out loud. And with that he left the house, forgetting to lock the door behind him.

(To be continued)

Pot Apocalypse Part 2 

Dirty Work

“It´s hard to pay the bills sometimes” Sheila said as she nervously puffed a cigarette and stared out of the window at nothing and everything at the same time. “You got to do what you got to do sometimes”

“Aren´t you ashamed of yourself?” Beth asked. She had just found out Sheila´s secret font of income.

“No!” Sheila said turning her head and fixing her gaze at Beth. “Not for one second”

“Calm down, Sheila. I am not saying that you should be. I am just asking as a friend”

“Well, stop asking. I don´t want to talk about it” Sheila said as she freed another cigarette from the pack and lit it with the burning filter of the last one. “What the fuck were you doing there in the first place?”

“I go there sometimes. That´s all” Beth said, now feeling the spot light of shame shining on her. “Listen, we all do things for money that we are not proud of sometimes. It´s ok.”

“No, we don´t! There are many people in this world that do not even have to do anything to get stuff. They were just born with stuff. They do not have to humiliate themselves ever and they even get to live better than those who do!” Sheila said now crying.

“Listen, Sheila, that´s life. Some people are born with everything, some are born with nothing. Some are born healthy, some are born dead! That´s just the way it goes. It is what it is” Beth stopped when she realized she sounded like a cliché reproducing robot.

“Well I was not born to greet people as they come into Wal-mart!” Sheila said, her eyes now furiously pouring tears.

 

The Older Woman

There she lay, glistening in a sensual sizzle. The straps of her bikini undone, dangling from the sides of her folding chair tempting him in a way that brought physical pain to his loins.

He watched her from the kitchen window. She was getting her afternoon sun on her well worked body. His teenage erection was completely unhidden in his knee length basketball shorts, sans underwear. The feeling of the silky fabric rubbing on him every time he moved his hips made it difficult for him to stand still. He looked like a novice hula dancer swaying his hips so erratically.

Her body was perfect and not just for a woman of her age, though she wore her 50 years fabulously, but for a woman of any age. A rare mix of great genetics and vanity, she took very good care of herself. She had no idea that she had an audience at the moment.

His vision was going in and out of blurry spells, the fire so stoked in his loins. He couldn´t take it. He needed release. He promised himself he wouldn´t do this anymore. He had asked his pastor if this behavior was all right and as he expected, was told no. He prayed to make these feelings go away. But they didn´t. It did not help that prayer time was so close to same time where he was left alone with his thoughts in the dark. With no one around. No one watching.

He asked God to forgive him one more time as he reached for the cooking oil. He splashed a little in his palm. It was enough. In fact, it was unnecessary as there was enough Cowper’s fluid accumulated that it looked as though he had wet himself a little.

He reached into his shorts and almost instantly a wave of delicious shame pulsated through his body. He felt amazing and awful as his eyes fluttered and became difficult to keep open. He even uttered an audible ‘uh’. His knees went weak and then he felt panic. She was tying her bikini up. She was coming inside.

The orgasm hadn´t even fully finished and she was steps away from the back door. He didn´t know what to do so he and his handful of shame opened the door to the basement. He didn´t even think about turning on the light. He just stumbled down the stairs into the musty darkness.

“What do you want for lunch” called the voice of the once object of his deepest desire.

A shaky voice came from the darkness of the basement. “Nothing, Mom.”

Stand Up Tragedian

 

A person who evokes emotions through comedy is a comedian. They use their words to paint images that, at least in their intent, are to make you laugh. It is a strange profession and a very difficult one as well. Carl was never funny but he was born to perform. Although he could not make people laugh, he a way of making people cry. He would not insult them. He would tell tragic tales. Usually true. Always about himself. He was a stand up tragedian.

He would warm the crowd up with tales of the irritation in his anus from the rubbing of giant hemorrhoids on the way to the club.  Then he would go into material about his cat, who was dying from feline leukemia. Then his closer was a story of how he tried visiting his grandmother at the hospital, minutes before her surgery. He was barred from the hospital parking lot and parked a fair distance away. By the time he had made it to her room she was already in surgery. The next day he got a call. She was dead. The crowd is usually totally in tears at this point. Most people say “It’s the way he tells the stories” usually followed by, “You have to see to it”.

Carl made a good living doing this. He even got to have relations with the occasional groupie. They were usually neurotic, drugged up to the gills, plus sized, middle aged women. But he didn’t care. Having sex with them gave him more material. There was one thing that always surprised the comedians in every town he traveled. He was a much more well adjusted human being than them.

Happy Birthday!

 

“Did you ever imagine what triggers an orgasm?” Jake asked as he took pulled his face inches away from Ashley`s between kisses.

“I like to believe that they are little explosions ignited by angels” Ashley answered.

“Good answer” he whispered as his mouth went back to hers.

All of a sudden there was a loud “What the fuck” heard in the background and the door flew open with a crash.

“Bill, what are you doing here?” Ashley asked.

“What the fuck are you doing there?” Bill asked right back.

Jake saw that he was giving up at least fifty pounds to Bill, mostly in the form of muscle, panicked and went for the window.

“Oh no you don’t you little shit!” Bill said. He crossed the room with surprising speed and agility for a man of his size. His large, strong hand crashed down on Jake’s bare shoulder pulling him back into the room. “You ain’t going nowhere” he said. With a twist of pleasure in his voice he said  “Your mine”

Jake was trembling. His knees felt weak. He could barely stand on his own. He collapsed into a ball of naked, bony flesh and meticulously messy hair.

Bill stood over him and started undoing his pants. Ashley screamed very unconvincingly “No, don’t do it Bill”

“This here little feller likes to fuck married people, then he’s gonna fuck married people”

Bill took out his lustful rage on Jake for three full minutes until angels detonated his orgasm.

Bill then went rooting through his pants looking for his cigarettes.  When he found them he offered one to Jake and said “No hard feelings there, little feller?” Jake just stared into nothingness. He looked catatonic.

Ashley then said to Bill “Happy Birthday honey! I knew you’d like him. He’s got that spikey hair you like so much”

“Ah, love, you sure do know me” he said as he took a long pull on his cigarette.