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rosemakh · 4 years ago

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The Bad Game

[Blurb: An innocent game of mini-golf takes a sinister turn when a family friend demands that Naomi make good on her bet. This deep betrayal leads to an impossible choice.]

[Author’s note: I wrote this in 2020. It’s loosely based on true events, as recounted by a friend of mine. This story is a tragic family drama. It deals with emotional abuse, manipulation, substance abuse, and other things that might trigger some readers (like most of my stories!)]

The driving lesson was over, so Naomi parked the old van and turned off the ignition.

"That was good, sweetie," Pastor Rob congratulated her from the passenger's seat, "You'll be able to get your license soon, for sure!"

Naomi shook her head and smiled sheepishly, "Maybe in a month."

They climbed out of the vehicle to stretch their legs and switch seats. Naomi hopped in and fastened her seat belt while Rob slid the driver's seat back. She giggled at some birds squabbling in the grass as he lowered his weighty girth into the van.

"How about some mini-golf?" He said, rather suddenly.

Naomi liked the game but she was tired. She'd been driving all morning and still had a pile of chores to do at home. She was also tired of being under the pastor's leering gaze. Spending the rest of the day with him -- followed by a Sunday of volunteering at his tiny church -- wasn't her idea of fun but he'd been kind enough to give her driving lessons when nobody else would. She was grateful to him, so she agreed to go.

On the way to the mini-golf park, Rob said, "How about a bet, this time?"

They'd played before but never with a wager. It seemed a little strange to Naomi, so she asked, "Like what?"

Rob kept his eyes on the road, "We'll play one round. If you win, I'll do any one thing you want and if I win, you'll do any one thing I want."

Coming from any other man, this kind of proposal would have alarmed her. But this man was like a grandfather to her. They'd known each other for years. He helped her family. He was goofy, humble, and generous. She trusted him.

She looked at him and nodded, "Yeah, okay! You'll probably just force me to go to lunch with you again or somethin', right?"

They both laughed.

They drove the rest of the way in silence with Elvis Presley crooning on the radio.

***

Naomi was usually pretty good at mini-golf but that day, she missed every shot. She almost felt as if an unseen force was affecting her game. Rob, on the other hand, was on a roll, banking his bright blue golf ball around plastic gnomes as if by magic and landing holes-in-one at both the lighthouse and crocodile lake. In dozens of games, she'd never seen him play so well and she'd never played so poorly.

As the game progressed, it became clear that she would lose the bet. A faint foreboding bloomed within her. She pushed it down and continued playing but by the end of the game, she'd lost by a huge margin. While they turned in their rented putters and balls, then made their way back to the van, Rob's face grew progressively pinched and dark.

Naomi sat in the front passenger's seat and fastened her seat belt. The edge seemed unusually sharp, digging into her neck as if trying to cut her. The earlier sense of foreboding bloomed again.

Rob yanked his door open, squeezed behind the wheel, mopped his sweaty forehead with one of his tree-trunk arms, and backed out of the parking space. A few feet ahead, a small gaggle of giggling women were crossing the lane. Rob, mouth gaping and eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets, moved his head to openly gawk at them in their tiny shorts and tank tops. Naomi was used to him doing that but, for some reason, she suddenly felt uncomfortable. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the car door. She watched his lecherous behavior out of the corner of her eye. He didn't detach his eyes from the ladies' bodies until they'd all piled into their car.

***

Rob pulled out onto the highway and stopped at a red traffic light. He gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead for a moment. A dangerous mood emanated from him.

Without looking at her, he grunted, "If I was the Mafia, you'd be in a lot of trouble right now."

Over the years, she'd seen him behave erratically. Sometimes his sermons would devolve into tales of bloody warfare, domestic abuse, and sexual assault. She knew the man had demons to fight but now it seemed he was about to use one on her. To prevent upsetting him, she didn't speak, but merely pressed herself hard against the door and looked away as the van accelerated.

He took a deep breath as if preparing to make an important announcement.

"Naomi," he said, "God showed me something last night. I was riding my bicycle like I do every night, and I looked up and saw you in the moon."

He sounded awestruck as if he'd witnessed a miracle.

"You were floating in the big full moon, wearing the most beautiful silver dress and slippers. Your hair was blowing all around you. You looked like an angel, just for me. I watched you and you smiled so sweetly, with so much love. And you reached your hands out to me and your dress blew and you were so beautiful. You stayed with me like that until I got back home."

Naomi couldn't think of anything to say. She continued looking out the window and prayed to God for safety.

When Rob parked in his driveway, Naomi had to will herself to move. She peeled herself from the door and opened it carefully. She wanted to run next door and call the police but slowly followed him into the big house, instead.

"Is your wife home?" She managed to ask as he swung the front door open.

"She's at Dorothy's piano recital at the college. They'll be gone for hours."

He led her through the cozy living room, past wholesome family pictures and walls filled with Christian crosses. Finely-crafted angel figurines looked on from shelves and tabletops as they passed. A desk in the corner housed a huge Bible, its pages edged with gold.

Rob positioned one dining chair so that it faced toward the backyard garden, then motioned for her to enter the tiny dining room and sit. She could see his wife's award-winning roses through the sliding glass door. Their yard was carpeted with soft, well-manicured grass. A set of cute lawn furniture sat on one side of the deck, overlooking a small swimming pool.

The dining chair didn't have arms, so Naomi awkwardly placed her hands in her lap. Rob suddenly stood in front of her, looming over her and blocking out the sun like a massive obelisk. To avoid his eyes, she stared at her hands.

His voice sounded above her, "I know you're a woman of God, so you'll honor your vow."

Barely a few inches in front of her, he knelt and pulled a ring box from his pants pocket. She stared at the box, praying it wasn't what she suspected. But it was. With bloated, hairy fingers, he flipped the top open to reveal a simple wedding ring. The gold-colored ring was etched with a diamond pattern to make it look like a normal ring but Naomi understood. Feeling as if she was in imminent danger, Naomi clenched her knees together tightly and thanked God she'd decided to wear jeans instead of a skirt.

He fixed his veiny bug eyes on her, "My sweetie, I've wanted to marry you since we first met when you were 14. These four years have been the happiest of my life. I know you feel the same way. God has shown me that you do."

Naomi tried rationalizing with him, "But you're already married. How will that work?"

He leaned toward her and his big belly pressed against her shins. He looked into her face like a lying boy that desperately wanted to be believed, "I've told you about that. It's basically an arranged marriage. I was 35 and our families put us together. We never loved each other."

"But it's a sin to violate your marriage vows. Besides, I don't feel that way about you, Pastor."

"But I know you do, sweetie," he nodded his head repeatedly, "God told me."

She shook her head furiously, "No!"

"It's okay, sweetie. Don't be afraid."

His fat belly pressed harder against her shins. The fleshy sensation made her feel sick, "You're old enough to be my father. Your daughter's older than me! It wouldn't work, I'm tellin' you!"

He continued, searching for ways to convince her, "And--and I know you don't want children so I got a vasectomy so you don't have to worry about that."

"Oh, God!" Naomi couldn't hold herself together anymore. Terrified, all she could do was tuck her head into her shoulder and sob.

"Sweetie--" He briefly touched her hand.

As if she'd been burned, Naomi drew her hands up to her chest.

He craned his blubbery neck to look into her face, "What's the matter, sweetie? Everything's okay. Haven't I proved that I care about you?"

He put one massive hand on her knee. Instinctively, she gasped and clenched her knees together tighter. She looked at the ceiling, gulping back sobs and biting her lip.

He placed the other hand on her lap, still holding the ring box, "Haven't I helped your family for the past four years. With your mom not working, what would you guys have done without me?"

She managed to choke out, "I appreciate everything you've done for us--" between sobs but couldn't continue.

"Oh, sweetie," His voice was tender as if speaking to a lover, "Don't cry. I know it's a big change," He waited a few moments for her to calm down but she was far too upset, "You're overwhelmed, my love. I'm sorry. I'll take you home now. Let's talk about this tomorrow after church."

Relieved to have a way out of the situation, she nodded shakily, "Tomorrow."

***

She'd managed to pull herself together and look somewhat normal by the time he pulled into her family's driveway. She scrambled out as soon as the van stopped.

Before she closed the door, he said, "I'll pick you up for church tomorrow, sweetie," and blew her a kiss.

She shut the door and willed her shaky legs to carry her up the cracked concrete walkway and into her family's shabby home.

She stepped into the living room in its usual state: Toys and dirty clothes littered the floor; Bowls of half-eaten cereal sat in small collections upon the tables; A sticky spill had congealed under the coffee table, next to the overturned cup that once held it.

She called to her young sisters, "Nancy, Nellie! Come clean up after yourselves, please!"

Nancy, 12, and Nellie, 5, stalked out of their room with mock annoyance. They glared at Naomi, stuck out their tongues, then collapsed into a fit of giggles.

"Cut it out, silly girls," Naomi said as she walked to the kitchen.

Their mother staggered out of the master bedroom and down the hall. She walked past Naomi without a word, opened the cabinet above the sink, and retrieved a large bottle of sleeping pills.

"Hi, Mom," Naomi said gently.

Her mother merely glanced at her, then opened the bottle. She moved almost robotically as if the effort of moving required all of her concentration and energy. She dropped three pills into her hand and swallowed them with a cold cup of coffee that was sitting on the counter.

"Are you okay, mom?" Naomi asked.

Naomi's mother turned to face her, "Never," and looked her up and down, "Look at you. You're so lucky. You don't have three mouths to feed."

Naomi stayed stone-faced and silent. Her mother said this often. The first time it happened, Naomi had made the mistake of talking back. She refused to make that mistake again.

With a surprising amount of force, her mother threw the open pill bottle against the sink's backsplash. Cloud-blue pills erupted from the bottle and fell haphazardly into the dirty dishes in the sink. A few landed in water and fizzed, creating bubbling islands of blue foam.

"I'm goin' to bed," her mother grunted.

Nellie, the youngest, peeked her head around the kitchen wall and held her toy bunny to her chin, "But Momma, you were in bed all day."

Their mother bent down and stroked Nellie's chubby face with a tenderness Naomi had not received from her in years, "Momma's tired, baby. Mommies get tired."

She stood up and snapped at Naomi, "Clean this place up!" then disappeared down the hall.

After their mother closed her door, Nancy strutted in and put a small pile of dirty cereal bowls on the kitchen table, "Where have you been all day, by the way? We've been stuck here with Mom and you've been out havin' fun!"

Naomi placed the bowls in the sink, "Believe me, nobody in this family is havin' fun."

Nancy took hold of her younger sister's hand, "Come on, Nellie, let's watch a movie while we wait for Naomi's crappy dinner."

"I like her crappy dinners," Nellie replied as they climbed onto the sofa.

"Oh, shut up, Nellie."

Overhearing the exchange from the kitchen, Naomi chuckled.

While preparing dinner, Naomi prayed for guidance. The thought of seeing Rob again made her feel sick, so she leaned over the sink for a few moments until the nausea subsided. Her mind raced with possibilities and none of them were good. If they stopped attending his church, she'd have to get a job. But she was just about to enter her last year of high school. If she quit school to work full-time, they'd probably never get out of poverty. On the other hand, if she stayed in high school and worked part-time, her sisters wouldn't have anyone to take care of them. Their mother was in no state to look after anybody and the girls were too young to take care of themselves all the time. She watched the pasta boiling on the stove. It roiled and raged like the thoughts in her head.

By the time dinner was ready, she had decided to turn him down and leave his church. She had no plan beyond that but she continued to pray and search for a solution.

***

Rob pulled into the driveway bright and early on Sunday morning. It was the sisters' responsibility to set up the church room in Rob's rundown beachside inn, so they had to get there before everyone else.

"Howdy-ho, kidderoos!" Rob greeted the girls as they headed towards the van.

Naomi checked to make sure the top button of her high-collar dress was done up and raised her hem slightly to keep it from dragging through the dew-covered grass. She picked up Nellie and strapped her into the front passenger's seat, then climbed into the farthest row of seats in the back.

Rob was watching in the rearview mirror, "You can sit up here with me, Naomi!"

"Nuh-uh! She said I can, Mr. Rob!" Nellie protested.

Beaming, Nancy spread her drawing books and art supplies across the middle row of seats and said proudly, "Oh, Yeah! So roomy! This must be what it's like not havin' any sisters! We should sit this way all the time."

"Well, that settles that," Naomi said as she pulled the van's sliding door shut.

He drove through the neighborhood slowly, glancing at the rearview mirror every few seconds, "Are you sure you don't want to sit up front, Naomi? Sitting next to the driver is great driving practice."

Naomi didn't take her eyes off her book, "No thank you. I promised Nellie she could sit there."

"What if you drive, instead, and I sit next to you?"

Nancy piped up, "No way. I don't wanna die today!"

All four of them burst into laughter.

Rob dropped the subject but repeatedly flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror during the 30-minute trip. Eventually, Naomi placed her backpack in her lap in an attempt to hide her chest from his searing glances.

***

The ramshackle inn was a place of refuge where vagabonds and penny-pinching tourists could enjoy a room on the beach for next-to-nothing. Rob did all the repairs himself but, unlike Jesus, he wasn't much of a carpenter. The floors were lumpy, sagging, and did nothing to muffle the sounds of footsteps. The paint was flaking in various places both inside and outside the building, and the bare, wooden staircases wobbled and creaked. It was a humble place for humble people.

Naomi and her sisters ascended the stairs into the common room and got to work converting the tiny space into a functioning chapel.

***

That Sunday's service was no different from any other. Pastor Rob led with a spirited, yet incoherent, opening message, which seemed to be nothing more than a collection of random Bible quotes from a desktop calendar. After the opening, he jumped straight into an equally spirited sermon about men and women and all the sex passages in the Bible. Although he didn't look at her, Naomi knew who he'd written that sermon for.

He spoke with fire and the attendees responded in kind, yelling "Preach!" and "Amen, brother!" at random intervals.

Two young women came out of an adjoining room and sat together on one side of the small space. They were dressed in tiny jean shorts and string bikini tops. Pastor Rob seemed unable to keep himself from glancing at them every two seconds to ogle their exposed flesh.

After the service, the pastor mingled with the attendees. None of the smiling people shaking Rob's hand were aware of Saturday's events and no one -- maybe not even the man himself -- knew what he was going to do when he got Naomi alone again. The spongy floor shook with each of Rob's massive steps as he traveled through the cheerful crowd. Naomi felt the vibrations in her core, like a war drum signaling impending doom.

***

Just after Noon, he pulled the van up to the girls' house. Nancy and Nellie got out and said their goodbyes.

Naomi made her way to the front passenger seat.

"We're off to do more driving lessons!" Rob explained to the younger girls.

He waited until the sisters were safely inside the house, then drove to a nearby playground. He pulled into an unpaved parking space facing the park, where some families were enjoying the mild weather and fresh air. Naomi was grateful to have other people around.

The pastor turned off the van and gripped the steering wheel so hard his pudgy knuckles turned white. They both stared silently into the park for a while.

Suddenly, without looking at her, he asked, "Are you playing with me?" and continued staring ahead, awaiting her answer.

Naomi gathered her courage and calmly replied, "No."

She looked at him. A sick red color was creeping up his neck. She had to get this over quickly, "I thought about it and I'm sorry but I don't feel that way about you. You're like a grandfather to me."

He growled a reply through clenched teeth, "How could you say that?" And looked at her from the corner of his eye, "You've been flirting with me for years."

Naomi couldn't believe he was the same man who'd been laughing it up on the beach just an hour ago, "What?!"

He unclenched his jaw but the edge in his voice remained, "We've played tag on the beach--"

"Only with my sisters!"

"We kissed in the back seat of this van."

Naomi scoffed, trying to hide her panic, "I got back there with you because you asked. I didn't know you were goin' to kiss me!"

Rob finally looked at her and erupted, "Why else would I ask you to join me in a back seat!"

She had accidentally sent him into a rage, possibly putting herself in physical danger, but she could no longer control her actions. The deep feelings of betrayal, disgust, and fear were too overwhelming.

She yelled in his face, "Why would you think I wanted to kiss you?"

Rob immediately lowered his voice -- a so-called psychological tactic he loved to use when things got heated, "You told me you were saving yourself for marriage."

Naomi yelled again, "I told you that as my pastor!"

He spoke slowly, "You also told me you felt uncomfortable about your strong sexual desires."

"I thought I could confide in you!"

He removed his hands from the steering wheel and turned his body toward her. Looking deep into her eyes, he spoke gently, "I know you're a godly woman. With me, you won't have to worry about anything. I promise I'll never hurt you. You can explore your desires with me safely. No diseases. No pregnancy. And I'll take care of you, your mom, and your sisters."

Naomi couldn't believe what she was hearing, "You're tryin' to bribe me with my family?"

"It'll be a sacred union."

"You're already married, Rob!"

"It's okay," He spoke to her as if talking to an upset child, "We'll keep it a secret. Nobody has to get hurt. God's chosen few have always been misunderstood. We both know nobody will understand our love."

She screamed at the top of her lungs, "We don't have a love! How could you? I trusted you!" She smashed her fist against the dashboard, "You and no one else! And you'd do this to me? Were you doin' this all along?"

Rob maintained a steady, soothing tone, "I didn't do anything. It's God's plan, my love."

"SHUT UP!"

Naomi's hands were shaking so badly, she barely managed to undo her seat belt. She reached for the car door handle.

Rob raised his voice slightly and scolded her, "You promised me! You're not a liar!"

Her anger spent, tears ran down Naomi's cheeks as she looked him straight in his eyes.

Her voice shook as she said, "I think Jesus will forgive me for this one."

She shoved the door open, got out, then slammed it shut with a frustrated roar. Startled people in the park, who'd heard them yelling, stared at her. Avoiding their gazes, she angrily walked away.

She'd traveled several feet before Rob finished hauling his heft out of the vehicle. He called to her, "Did you buy your sisters' school supplies yet?"

She stopped on the spot.

"Or your mom's medicine?"

She lowered her head, tears cascading down her face. Her entire body shook as she clenched and unclenched her fists. A swarm of dark possibilities swirled in her mind.

A child's scream and laughter yanked her back into reality. Instinctively, she looked in the direction of the sound. The squealing toddler was being pushed on a swing by his smiling dad. Mom looked on, laughing loudly.

Naomi stared at the happy family. Memories of carefree days floated up from the depths of her mind. She could feel Rob's eyes on her.

Without looking at him, she walked back to the van, threw herself into the seat, slammed the door, and waited. After a moment, Rob squeezed behind the steering wheel, watching her. Without a glance or a word, she pulled the musty seat belt across her body and fastened it with a heavy click. It pressed against her chest and lap, pinning her to the seat. She folded her hands in her lap in a failed attempt to keep them from shaking.

She stared at the horizon, blinking away hot tears and taking measured breaths. Aware of Rob's gaze, she pressed against the car seat and bit her lip hard. Her body shook with adrenaline and terror.

Rob continued to stare at her as he started the van. He seemed to be savoring the moment as he raked his hungry eyes up and down her body.

***

The pastor sat the last grocery bag on the kitchen table.

He checked to make sure nobody else was around, then pulled Naomi close for a quick kiss on the lips, "See you Saturday, my love."

He headed out the door. She bent over the sink and washed her mouth out with dish soap.

She dried her face as Nancy came around the corner.

"Was that Pastor Rob?"

Naomi nodded.

A mischievous smile crept across Nancy's face, "Gee, I'm sure glad you two didn't die in your drivin' lesson!"

Naomi was too numb to even pretend to laugh but she forced herself to smile as sweetly as she could at her silly little sister, "That was funny, Nancy."

"Duh!"

Naomi pulled an ice cream cake from one of the grocery bags, "Look what I've got."

Nellie appeared in the doorway, curious. Naomi knelt so the kids could get a better look.

Nancy gasped, "Wow! Are we celebratin' somethin'?"

Naomi forced a warm smile for her sisters, "Yes. We're celebratin' how much I love you."

Just out of sight, their mother muttered, "Bring me some o' that to my room, Nancy," then shuffled back down the hall.

"Oh, Momma likes it, too!" Nellie said, "Thanks, Naomi!"

Nancy pulled a plate from the dish rack, "Yeah, I guess you're okay, sometimes."

At that, the three of them stuck their tongues out at each other playfully.

Naomi turned and placed the ice cream cake on the kitchen table. The golden ring on her left middle finger caught Nellie's eye.

Nellie pulled Naomi's hand to her own face so she could get a better look, "That ring's fancy! I like the diamond shapes. Did it cost a lot?"

Naomi briefly flashed a smile, "Yes, it cost me a whole lot."

"I won't tell, but Momma might get mad if she finds out."

Naomi gently pulled her hand free and stroked her precious little sister's hair, "I think you're right, honey. I bet she would."

#short fiction #short story #dark drama #drama story #family drama

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rosemakh · 4 years ago

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A Burden's Recompense

[Author’s note: I wrote this in 2020. It’s loosely based on true events, as recounted by a friend of mine. This story is a tragic family drama. It deals with domestic abuse, and other things that might trigger some readers (like most of my stories!)]

My mother looked me dead in the eyes, "You ruined my life by being born."

That's what she said to me.

I was seven years old. And I knew she was right.

My mother's life was hard from the beginning. Born to abusive parents, she was beaten and starved for as long as she could remember. When she was around six years old, her mother (my grandmother) forced her to tend to the farm animals before school every day, alone. That gave my grandmother more time to lie in bed, watching TV and drinking. When my grandmother's lovers visited, she'd lock my mother in the closet so she couldn't reveal their identities to her father. When her father got home from work, he'd blame my mother for every trouble in his life and beat her with a leather belt until he felt better.

Eventually, she passed that evil legacy onto me.

I'd seen the pictures. I knew my mother used to be a happy person. She smiled from the frames of faded Polaroids in our family albums. Hair flipped out in a "Farrah Fawcett" style, she posed playfully in corduroy bell-bottoms. Her eyes twinkled with the promise of a bright future.

But my birth wrecked her body. She nearly died bringing me into this world. My father abandoned her because I wasn't a son. She became a casualty of age-old traditions. Homeless and unable to work, she took me to stay at her mother's for the first year of my life. Resting her ravaged body between baby care and housework, my mother eventually became well enough to work again. Then a new problem loomed before her: lack of education.

Back when my mother had turned 13, my grandmother introduced her to my father. Eventually, she convinced my mother that my father was a good man that would take care of her. So, as soon as she turned 18, my mother got her GED, quit school, and married my father. She truly believed that her fairytale had come true. In reality, my father had desired my mother for years. He was in his 30's when they first met. He had some kind of sick arrangement with my grandmother involving money and land. For her part, my grandmother had spent years talking my mother into loving him. It was a messed-up situation.

So, when I was around 18 months old, my mother entered the workforce with determination. She planned to work her way up in a fast food place and maybe own a location of her own one day. Daycare cost too much, so she swallowed her pride and went on government assistance. She was trying desperately to give me a normal life by sacrificing hers.

The years dragged on and promotions came. She fought her way to Assistant Manager, then bumped her head on a glass ceiling. A new franchisee had bought the location and refused my mother further promotions, citing poor performance. But all the other employees knew she was just jealous of my mother's youth and beauty.

One day, when I was five, my mother picked me up from school early. She'd been crying. Her eyes were puffy and red. She smiled at me weakly, "We're going to the beach." I climbed into the rusty car and away we went.

For my mother and me, the beach was the perfect place to hang out. It was beautiful, peaceful, and didn't cost a thing. It was early February and the wind ripped through my Rainbow Brite jacket like an ice knife. My mother was cold too, but she sat on the sand in her work uniform and stared into the clear sky. The wind threw her yellow hair around like dancing pasta. My own auburn hair whipped my face but I could see well enough to navigate around begging gulls to collect seashells from the wet sand. I chose the prettiest ones and carefully placed them in a plastic bucket. I just knew my mother would cheer up when she saw them! When the important job was done, I proudly showed them to her. She smiled through tears, then pulled me close. In the waning afternoon sun, we admired them together, cuddled up against the wind.

The next day was a Friday. She should have been working but she picked me up from school early again. She told me she'd been fired. Apparently, the franchisee fired her because her husband thought my mother was pretty.

My mother frantically looked for another job and in two weeks, she was the official cleaning lady for three of the local phone company's switch stations. It was hard work. She pushed heavy buffing machines and cleaning carts and moved huge spools of cable all by herself. Her shift started after school, so I'd always go with her. I loved it! Using a huge cable spool as a table, I'd color or draw in a room filled with tall cages and blinking switchboards. The whole building was filled with metal boxes, flashing lights, and bundled wires. It was the coolest place I'd ever seen. But it wasn't cool for my mother. Her frail body, already damaged by my birth and years of farm work, couldn't stand the abuse. Within a year, she was back in the hospital, being prepped for hernia surgery.

The phone company promised she'd still have her job when she recovered. But six weeks later, when she arrived to resume work, she was flatly told that she'd been replaced by a professional cleaning crew. At the age of six, I learned a valuable lesson from my mother's hard life: Always get it in writing.

It's impossible to predict what might break someone. Nobody can stay strong forever if their life is nothing but disappointment and pain. Losing that job was my mother's breaking point. It left a bad taste in her mouth and a sour look on her face. She went back on the job hunt. On the weekends, she dragged me from business to business as she applied to job after job. She walked into every place wearing that bitter expression. I was just a kid but even I knew nobody would hire that kind of face.

On that dreadful day, she'd been turned down by jobs all morning. Exhausted, she leaned on her car and cried. Her tears fell with weak sobs. I desperately wanted to help her but there was nothing I could do. I could only offer her a little moral support. I tugged on her shirt sleeve to get her attention but she yanked away violently. Then she bent at the waist, looked into my eyes, and said it with all the putrid resentment she'd held inside for years: "You ruined my life...I never should have had you. I was so stupid!"

She knelt in front of me, grabbed my tiny shoulders, and screamed, "Why did I think your father loved me! Why did I think he'd take care of me! Why didn't I have a boy!" She collapsed to the ground, nearly dragging me down with her. She doubled over and sobbed into the filthy pavement.

The next night, a neighbor girl came over to babysit me. A wrinkle-faced guy arrived in a red sports car and gave the babysitter some money. My mother gave the babysitter some instructions and jumped into the car with Mr. Wrinkle-face. They sped away, laughing. That was the first of many come-and-go boyfriends. She was on a dating spree, finally catching up on all the things she didn't get to do because of me. Sometimes she'd come home with her hair tangled and makeup smudged. Sometimes she'd stumble into the house and pass out in the hallway. Sometimes she wouldn't come home until the next morning and slur an apology to the exhausted neighbor girl as I dug into my second bowl of Circus Fun cereal.

One Saturday, my mother got up early and started cleaning, cooking, and making herself up. She was grinning from ear to ear and absolutely glowing. After breakfast, she helped me into my best dress and shoes and did my hair up in ribbons. We both looked so good, I just knew something wonderful was going to happen!

Around lunchtime, the doorbell rang. My mother practically flew to the door. She was like her old self again! She fluffed her hair and opened the door. A man stepped in and embraced her with a gravelly, "Hey, baby." He handed her a small bouquet of flowers which she took with a giggle. She'd always said cut flowers were a stupid gift because all they did was sit there and die. I wondered if those ones were different somehow.

He released my beaming mother and bent down to me. "So, here's the little rugrat!" he said through crooked, yellow teeth. His breath was stale and rank. I made a face at the smell, "I'm not a rugrat! I'm seven years old!" Behind him, my mother put a finger to her lips in a stop-talking-or-I'll-tear-you-up kind of way. I immediately shut up and stared at the floor. "Well aren't you cute," He patted my head, "Just like your mom!" She giggled again and wrapped one of her arms around his, "Come on, Chad. I'll make you a sandwich."

With Chad around, things were great for a little while. He got us cable TV, did house repairs, and took us to the movies every weekend. My mother even cooked dinner when he was there, instead of just heating some Chef Boyardee on the stove like the babysitter always did. He was at our house all the time, like a new family member. My mother loved having him around and he loved being around her. They enjoyed each other's "company" almost every night. I started sleeping with my head under my pillow because they were so noisy.

The abuse started gradually. Sly comments about her looks, weight, and housekeeping skills slowly turned into open insults. Eventually, he began belittling her in front of his friends and refusing to let her see her own friends.

They argued every night. Sometimes, I could hear things hitting the walls of their bedroom. They screamed at each other. In bed, I'd hide beneath the covers with my pillow over my head and cotton balls stuffed in my ears.

One night, I was woken up by a loud bang. Something big had slammed against their bedroom door. I peeked out from under my covers, plucked a cotton ball from one of my ears, and listened. A whimper floated on the air, weak and hollow. From within the whimper, my mother cried, "Please, don't baby, please--" She screamed. I felt the walls shake. I heard slapping sounds. More crying and pleading. From the safety of my bed, I got the picture: My mother was being beaten by the man she had taken into her home to take care of us. But if I weren't around, she wouldn't need him.

She was being beaten because of me.

From then on, he beat her a few nights each week and continued to criticize her every day. It made her a nervous wreck, so she stopped eating and lost a lot of weight. He'd ridicule her for being too skinny. "Put some meat on those bones or I'll leave ya!" He laughed while she massaged his feet after dinner one night.

After that, she never left the house without packing on makeup to cover the bruises.

A foul mixture of hatred and guilt had been growing inside me since the verbal abuse began. In the cartoonish world of my 7-year-old mind, I'd spent weeks mulling over ways to get rid of my mother's abuser. She wouldn't kick him out and he wouldn't leave. It was clear that murder was the only option but Bugs Bunny's anvils and ACME Brand TNT probably wouldn't cut it.

One warm Saturday night, fueled by my mother's pleas for mercy, I finally formed a brilliant little scheme.

On Sundays, Chad liked to relax in a hot bath after playing goodie-two-shoes at church all morning. That blessed day, my mother drew his bath, then went into the kitchen to make lunch. With him in the tub and my mother distracted, I sprang into action.

With the measured movements of a horror movie villain, I quickly opened the bathroom door, grabbed the hairdryer from the cabinet under the sink, plugged it in, turned it to High, and dropped it into the bathwater before Chad could react.

It was cool, like in the horror movies! He shook a lot. He screamed, just like he'd made my mother scream. When I remember the way he flopped around in the tub, it still makes me smile.

After he was sufficiently cooked, the circuit breaker finally tripped and the lights went out. Luckily, the Sunday sun streaming through the bathroom's frosted window provided plenty of light for me to bask in the glory of my work.

My mother appeared in the doorway, "Chad? Oh my god, Chad!" As she rushed to the tub, I unplugged the hairdryer, to be safe. She touched his neck to feel for a pulse but immediately drew back. I still wonder what his cooked skin felt like.

She covered her mouth and sobbed, "Chad," turning to me, she yelled, "Why?"

"He hurt you, mommy."

Her makeup was smeared in places, exposing some of her purple bruises. She shoved me hard against the vanity, "Why do you have to ruin everything!"

She ran to the phone in her bedroom and ten minutes later an ambulance came wailing down the street, followed by a police car with flashing blue lights. My mother burst from her room, the bruises on her face and neck gone again. As she dragged me down the hallway by my wrist, I marveled at the wonders of makeup.

She threw the front door open and stepped aside to let the cops in. Guns drawn, they quickly checked the house for danger, then signaled to the paramedics that it was safe to enter. One of the cops said, "Bathroom, down the hall!" as the paramedics rushed past us with a medical kit and gurney. I wanted to follow to see what they'd do with Chad's body but my mother's grip was firm.

My mother said to the older of the two cops, "You won't need your guns," she nodded in my direction, "My seven-year-old is the murderer."

***

The interrogation at the police station was fun. They separated my mother and me. A nice woman joined me in the interrogation room and we played with toys and talked and ate snacks. I got to tell her all about my brilliant murder plan. She seemed shocked, yet impressed. After a few hours, I'd managed to convince her that the plan was all mine and my mother hadn't put me up to it. I had saved my mother and I was proud. The lady left, assuring me she'd "Be right back."

I looked at my reflection in the big mirror on the wall. I was pretty messy from playing, so I smoothed my hair and straightened my Transformers shirt.

The woman returned, along with my mother, two policemen, and a gray-haired man in a long white coat. Everyone smiled at me, except my mother, who looked away, frowning. The nice lady crouched beside me and offered her hand, which I took. It was soft and warm.

"Would you like to go to a place where there are lots of other boys and girls?" she asked me.

"What kind of place?"

She smiled, "A special place for very special children. You'll get your own room and get to play and watch TV and learn all kinds of new things and make lots of friends. Doesn't that sound good?"

It did sound good but I wasn't so easily tricked. I knew I was going to an "institution." I'd known it the second that hairdryer hit the water.

The nice lady stood up, "Say goodbye to your mommy, honey. You probably won't see her for a little while."

I looked up at my mother, then walked to her and hugged her legs -- the only part of her I could reach. She didn't respond but continued to look into the distance with that sour expression I knew so well.

I've been in the institution for seven years now. It's been a lot of fun. I've made friends with interesting people and I've learned a lot.

Every year, I get evaluated so the doctors can see if the rehabilitation is working. Every year, they ask me the same question, and every year, I say the same thing: "I killed him. I'm proud of it. And if I had to make the choice again, I'd still do it."

I say it every year, and every year they seem surprised. Maybe they keep losing their notes.

This year, one of the younger doctors asked if I realized that if I felt sorry for killing that man, I could go back home, "Of course I realize that," I replied calmly, "But I don't feel sorry for it. Should I lie?"

"That kind of attitude will keep you here for a long time, miss," He scolded.

"That's fine with me."

At least in here, I'm no longer my mother's burden.

#short story #short fiction #Drama #family drama #dark story

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rosemakh · 4 years ago

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Animal Counselor: Ep 1 - Giraffe's Big Problem

[Author's Note: I originally wrote this in 2015 as a script for a comic or cartoon. I've rewritten it as if it's a transcript of a recorded interview between a talking giraffe and his human counselor]

Counselor: I'm glad you could make the long trip from the savanna for face-to-face counseling, Mr. Giraffe.

Giraffe: It took a while to save up for the plane ticket but I finally made it. Everyone says you're the best, so I had to come see you, no matter what!

Counselor: The plane ride from Africa must have been uncomfortable for you.

Giraffe: Yeah. The plane was so cramped. I have terrible pain in my neck from it. Thanks for understanding! As you probably imagine, this is the kind of thing I've been dealing with my whole life.

Counselor: I'll try my best to help you. If we move forward with regular sessions, I may move to an office with a vaulted ceiling.

Giraffe: Thank you, Doctor.

Counselor: Your email mentioned bullying but you didn't elaborate.

Giraffe: [sighs] The monkeys are good at hacking email accounts. If the other animals found out why I got in touch with you...

Counselor: I understand. This is a safe place, Mr. Giraffe. You can tell me all about it now.

Giraffe: Being so tall is horrible! To drink, I have to spread out all my legs. Everyone laughs at me. It's embarrassing!

One day, I fell asleep with my head resting on a high tree branch. And by the time I woke up, that stupid chimpanzee had tied a rope swing to one of my horns, with a tire on the end! Then he ran up my neck and used the swing!

Counselor: That's abusive! What did the other animals do?

Giraffe: They laughed, like always. Then they started arguing over who would swing next.

Counselor: Do they dislike you?

Giraffe: Well, I can tell they often whisper nasty things about me but my ears are so far from the ground that I can't hear what they're saying!

When they see me straining to hear, they ask me things like, "How's the weather up there?" and "I threw my ball too high and it landed on the sun. Can you reach up a little and get it for me?"

And one day, vultures made a nest on my head and laid eggs in it and I had to walk around like that for months!

Counselor: That's very rude. I can see why you're so frustrated.

Giraffe: But these things wouldn't happen if I was smaller! Can't you make me small, Doctor?

Counselor: I have no guaranteed way to make you physically smaller...

Giraffe: [cries softly]

Counselor: But there is an experimental therapy called "Mind Over Matter." Trials suggest it may help you become whatever you think you are.

Giraffe: That's it! So, what should I do?

Counselor: To start, try thinking small thoughts. Focus your mind on tiny objects and will your body match those tiny sizes.

Giraffe: That's brilliant, Doctor! I'll do it. I'll think small...marbles...strawberry seeds...tardigrades...dust mites...that stupid chimpanzee's tiny brain!

[a popping noise, following by a hissing sound]

Counselor: [coughing] Why did he just disappear in a puff of smoke? Mr. Giraffe? Are you there?

Giraffe: [high-pitched voice] I'm here! I'm right here!

Counselor: [gasps] You're tiny!

Giraffe: I did it, Doctor! I'm finally small! So, this is the power of mind over matter! You're a genius!

Counselor: I can't believe that worked.

Giraffe: This is great! Now I can look up women's skirts and dresses whenever I want!

Counselor: What?

Giraffe: Hah! That was my intention all along! I'm not from Africa. I'm from the zoo down the street! And I was never bullied, either! You totally fell for it!

Because I was so tall, I got to look down women's shirts all day. But I'm getting tired of boobies. So, I wanna look up skirts, now!

[breathing heavily] I can finally rework my website! I think I'll call it "Mister Giraffe's Upskirt / Downshirt Peeping Playhouse!"

Counselor: That's illegal! Or at the very least, highly immoral.

Giraffe: Who cares? I'm a giraffe! What're they gonna do, arrest me? [laughs]

#comedy #interview #fiction #stupid story

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rosemakh · 4 years ago

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Talking Topics with Taika - Episode 2: Weatherliness

[spoof interview show with call-in listeners and guests]

[Author's Note: This was originally written in 2014 as a script for an audio series. I wrote two episodes but was unable to continue the project. This is the re-written version, with visual descriptions added as needed. It reads sort of like a script. Just imagine this as a televised talk show with guests seated on a stage, in front of a studio audience.]

Taika: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight, we tackle an issue that affects the life of every living thing on this planet: Weather Change. With the Weather Awareness Conference taking place in Tornado, West Virginia this weekend, Weather Change is once again a hot-button topic. There are many opinions and hypotheses surrounding Weather Change. Tonight's guests are here to help us sort through it all. Please welcome to the show:

Virga Gale, author of "Weatherliness: How to Weather the Weather without Becoming Weathered, Whether You Want to or Not";

Virga: "Thank you, Taika"

Taika: "Thisisa Nalias, founder of Caring Responsibly And Providing Offerings Lovingly Annually;"

Thisisa Nalias: "Thanks a bunch, Taika!"

Taika: "and Foliaj McGreenly, author of "People are Plants Too: the Complete Guide to Living Without Eating or Drinking."

Foliaj: "I thanketh thee~!"

Taika: "Why don't we start by defining the topic at hand. Miss Virga, what exactly is Weather Change?"

Virga: "It's weather that changes, Taika. Because the weather seems to be changing all the time, we think this is the way things should be, but as I explain in my book "Weatherliness" (which, by the way is available now in bookstores nationwide, and at Weatherliness.com), the truth is this: these weather changes occur because we continue to disrupt the Earth's naturally tranquil and weather-free temperament.

You see, when we are experiencing storms, droughts, snowfall, earthquakes, and nighttime, it's clear that the earth has weather changes, though many people continue to deny it."

Taika: "So, earthquakes and nighttime are also caused by Weather Change?"

Virga: "Yes! When the ground shakes and the sky grows dark, it's clear that something is wrong with our planet!"

Thisisa: "Ooo! Ooo! Ooo! Me! Pick me!"

Taika: "Would you like to respond, Mr. Thisisa?"

Thisisa: "Yes! I completely agree with Miss Virga. Something is very wrong with our planet! Mother Earth is upset because we walk all over her and dig pockmarks into her face and build huge towers on her smooth, supple skin. All we have to do is cheer her up and all this bad weather will go away."

Taika: "An interesting theory. And how might we cheer her up?"

Thisisa: "Chocolate! Women love chocolate!"

Virga: "Excuse me?"

Thisisa: "You know! Chicks like chocolate!"

Virga: "You sexist--"

Thisisa: "So if we give some chocolate to Mother Earth, she'll calm the heck down. That's why my foundation is currently working with government officials to pass a law requiring every nation to give her an offering of one metric ton of chocolate candies for every one million citizens, on January 5th each year."

Taika: "I've heard there is a lot of pushback from the other nations in opposition to that law."

Thisisa: "Yes, but they have to come onboard! If Mother Earth doesn't get her chocolate fix, she'll keep nagging and whining and the weather will only get worse!"

Virga: "You sexist pig! You really think chocolate will be enough to calm Mother Earth, simply because she's a woman?"

Thisisa: "Hey, chill out, toots!"

Virga: "You dare call me 'Toots'? You must die!!"

[she smacks him hard with her hand, hear the slap!]

Thisisa: "Hey, stop it, you cow!"

[she smacks him again, with a book this time]

Virga: "Shut up, pig!"

Taika: "Miss...Miss Virga..."

Thisisa: "That hurts, horse-face!"

Virga: "Good, worthless dog!"

[The fighting continues in the background as the show goes on]

Foliaj: May I speaketh upon this matter~~?"

Taika: "By all means, Mr. Foliaj."

Thisisa: "Elephant!"

Virga: "Rat!"

Foliaj: "I disagree-eth with this flawed assumption that the Earth is a female, for just as we-eth are genderless, so too-eth is the Earth. It is all explained-eth within mine book "People are Plants Too" (availableth now at NeverEatethnorDrinketh.com)."

Thisisa: "Manatee!"

Virga: "Weasel!"

Thisisa: "Buffalo!"

Virga: "Worm!"

Foliaj: "Usingeth this soil-filled flower pot, I shall demonstrateth as per the diagram on page 37-eth of my book."

Foliaj: "When we sticketh thine feet into the Earth's soil, remove our restrictive garments [he drops his robe, now in his boxer shorts] and stretcheth our branches to collect the sun's rich light-eth, we are as the plants of the Earth, genderless and gentle, not angering the Earth by taking-eth of animal-eth or plant-eth, but merely soaking up that which is given-eth to us. We needeth not food. We needeth not play, for in reality, we are not humans - we are plantmans."

Taika: "er... this may be out of line on my part, but since you're standing here in a flower pot in nothing but your underwear, I'll go ahead and say it. You look like you're literally starving to death Mr. Foliaj."

Foliaj: "This is merely the form of a mature plantman~~! One begins to resembleth the strong branches of a tree as one's body deepens its reconnection with the Earth~~!"

Taika: "Those aren't branches, they're bones! All of your bones are sticking out!"

Virga: [laughs] "What is wrong with you, plant guy?" [keeps laughing in the background]

Thisisa: "Yeah, you're a real freak, man!" [laughing] "And your fake accent is so stupid!"

Foliaj: "Quieteth thine tounge~! This accent makeseth me soundeth mystical... Waiteth a minute! As I am one with the Earth, it has spoken to me and I remebereth thou, sir~~!"

Thisisa: [still laughing] "Oh, do you?"

Foliaj: "Thou arteth in truthality Willa Wonky, owner of Choco-lotso, the world's largest producer of chocolateth candies~~!"

Taika: "Oh my gosh! He is!"

Virga: "Ah~~ The Chocolate King…? I'm a huge fan!"

Foliaj: [building up power around, almost as if he's gathering power to cast a very powerful spell, hear the sounds of wind rushing, vines sprouting, and so on, and it gets louder as he continues speaking] "Is that why you wanteth every nation to giveth chocolate to the Earth, when the Earth is the one who creates-eth chocolate in the first placeth~~? To linest thine grimy pockets with gains takeneth from Earth-honoring people~~?! YEE~~ FOWL~~ HYPOCRITE~~~" [the noise has reached its peak and the air is sparking with electricity]

(GASPS) (RELEASES A DEATH MOAN) [he has just died and is silent now. All the other noises die down as well]

Virga: [Screams at the top of her lungs]

Taika: "He...died! It looked like Mr. Foliaj was going to cast some sort of...plant-based magic spell, but he just bent over backwards and died! Someone call a doctor...or maybe an arborist would be better?"

Willa Wonky: "Phew! He almost killed me with those magic vine things. Must be my lucky day!"

Virga: "How can you be happy? Someone's dead!"

[Foliaj McGreenly's voice echoes throughout the room]: "Do not fretteth thou, for I can now finally returneth to the Earth..." [his last "to the earth"s fade out softly as a magical transformation sound is heard, which occurs because he is transforming into a small bony flower that has his face]

Willa Wonky: "What the heck is that ugly thing?"

Taika: "He turned into a bony flower."

Virga: "The part between the petals looks like his face. It's kinda cute."

Willa Wonky: "I don't think 'cute' is the word for it. Gross."

[The lights fade to black as the ending theme music fades in]

#comedy #funny story #fiction #fake interview #interview #short story

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rosemakh · 4 years ago

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Talking Topics with Taika - Episode 1: DWD

[spoof interview show with call-in listeners and guests]

Taika: Welcome, viewers. You may have heard of DUI and DWI, but there is a new and equally disturbing kind of distracted driving that is killing hundreds in our nation every year. This deadly habit has been dubbed DWD - Driving While Dining. Tonight, we will speak with people who have committed DWD. These brave souls are here to share their tragic stories and relive the pain of those events in the hopes that others will not make the same mistakes they did. Please welcome to the show: Candy Chianti from Oatmeal, Texas; Toffee Bellini from Cookietown, Oklahoma; and Frank Furter from Sandwich, Massachusetts. Welcome, each of you.

Candy: Thankies, Taika! It's awesome to be here!

Toffee: Thank you so much Taika. This is wonderful!

Frank: Thanks, Taika!

Taika: Driving While Dining seems to have become quite popular recently, in spite of the fact that it is difficult to drive properly while eating a meal. Miss Candy, you actually got into a car accident while committing DWD, correct?

Candy: I did!

Taika: I'm sure it must be a very painful memory for you--

Candy: Yah~~

Taika: --but would you share your story with us, so we may all learn from your experience?

Candy: Okay! So, I went to Burly Burger and ordered a order of Chocolatey Beef Bites with a extra icing cup and a malted beef broth milkshake with strawberry topping. And I, like, usually don't eat when I drive, but the Beef Bites smelled so good and my stomach started, like, totally eating itself, so I was driving down Main Street and opened the Bites, but they're not that good without icing, so I put my hand in the bag to get the icings, but they weren't in there!

So, I got really mad and forgot I was driving and I was, like, cussing and stuff 'cause I was hungry and I rear-ended some 86-year-old old guy cuz he was at a red light...

And he would of been okay, 'cept he was eating in his car, and I guess he, like, inhaled 'cause I hit him, and he totally choked to death on one of those nasty hash browns from Patty's Potato Lodge! I mean EW!! Those are gross!!

And, like, I regret that morning every day of my life... because my Beef Bites fell on the floor when I rear-ended that old guy, so I couldn't eat them, and they cost me, like, five dollars!

Taika: So, out of all of that morning's events, you most regret not getting to eat the Beef Bites?

Candy: [Softly crying and sniffling] It's, like, totally sad. I'll never get that five dollars back.

Toffee: [Clears her throat loudly, speaks sadly] I feel for you dear. That's a very distressing story, but I'm afraid mine is far, far worse.

Taika: Ms. Toffee, do you feel comfortable sharing your story with us?

Toffee: [Suddenly very cheerful] Oh, gladly!

Taika: [Surprised at Toffee's change in demeanor]

Toffee: The fateful day was nearly one year ago. I went to my favorite restaurant -- Bread Breakfast Bread -- they only sell breakfast sandwiches there, and they are positively exquisite!

I wanted to try their Sloppy Syrup Sausage Sandwich. It's crumbled breakfast sausage drenched in authentic maple syrup between two slices of freshly baked and toasted cinnamon raisin bread!

Candy: Oh my gaw! That sounds really good!

Frank: Mmm~~~~hm!

Toffee: Doesn't it? And it tastes even better than it sounds! After I picked up one for me and a few for the ladies at the office, I continued my commute. I resisted the urge to eat until I was at a red light - because as everyone here knows, it's very reckless to eat while driving--

Frank: [Nodding] It sure~~ is.

Candy: [Nodding] Yah~~

Taika: [Looks at Candy as if she doesn't believe she just said that]

Toffee: --So, I had the sandwich in my hand, held tightly because it was loaded with syrup and sausage, and there must have been some sort of mime convention in town because -- and I am not lying -- a parade of mimes started walking down the crosswalk in front of my car, but they didn't just walk! They mimed as if they were pulling ropes or rowing boats or being blown across the road by the wind!

Candy: [Laughs]

Frank: Sounds like quite a show!

Toffee: Yes! And I was so mesmerized that I loosened my grip on the sandwich and all of that boiling-hot syrupy sausage fell right into my lap!

Candy: [Gasps] Oh no!

Toffee: I was wearing shorts that day, so I was burned instantly! It was so painful and before I knew it, my car had shot forward and taken out several mimes!

I didn't know people could die so quietly! Those mimes were so dedicated to their art! There wasn't so much as a peep out of any of them!

[Sadly] It was so horrible...so~~ horrible...

[A little angry] ...when the police confiscated my sandwiches!

Frank and Candy: [Gasp in unison]

Candy: Why did they confiscate them?!

Toffee: The officer said they were evidence!

Frank: [Stroking his beard and pondering] How can sandwiches be evidence?

Toffee: [Upset] I don't know!

Candy: [Sighs sadly] You're right, Toffee, that's way worse than my story!

Toffee: [Giggles] I told it so, dear!

Taika: Why are you bragging about it?

Toffee: [Clueless, absent minded, innocent look]

Taika: [Breathes deeply and regains her composure] Did any of the people you hit with your car survive?

Toffee: Oh, I don't know. I was too traumatized to check up on them.

Taika: Wouldn't the people that you ran over be more traumatized than you were?

Frank: [Nods sagely and interrupts] Mmm~~ yes, I can see how that would traumatize anyone! But now it's time for my terrible tale. You three ladies may want to sit down for this!

Taika: Thank you for the warning, Mr. Frank. Please continue.

Frank: Thank you! There was once a legendary sub sandwich: the lobster, abalone, and Italian white sturgeon caviar-filled Limited Edition '14 Karat Super Sub'!

Toffee: [A little glittery-eyed] 14 Karat?

Frank: [Proudly] The sauce had edible gold in it.

Candy: That must'a been, like, totally expensive!

Frank: 100 dollars a sub! And I bought 12 of them, for myself and my co-workers. Gotta keep the co-workers on your side, right? That day, I cruised down the street with the windows down and a big bag of those babies on the front passenger seat of my SUV. I was eating one, too -- a little too quickly -- and I started to choke on it.

I needed to drink something but couldn't put the sub down because it would ruin my new upholstery, so I ducked down for just a second to drink from the straw in my soft drink in the cup holder. When I sat back up, my SUV was heading straight toward a lightpole, so I jerked the wheel to avoid it, but I was carrying a load of bricks on the roof, and the sudden movement caused the vehicle to flip.

Candy: [Gasps]

Toffee: Oh my!

Frank: The bricks broke loose and flew in all directions. The SUV rolled several times and my bag of subs flew out the window!

Candy: [Gasps louder]

Toffee: You're kidding!

Frank: Later, I found out that my SUV had rolled through a puppy adoption fair that some 1st graders were holding on the sidewalk and had crushed uh...[Counts them off on his fingers] three dozen 6- and 7-year-olds, some puppies, a few teachers, and a couple stuffed animals.

Taika: Why mention the stuffed animals?

Frank: But worst of all, that was the last day they were serving those limited edition subs! You can't get them anywhere anymore! And they were so delicious!

Toffee: [Sobs into a hankerchief] That's horrible! Absolutely mortifying!

Candy: [Crying loudly] And those poor subs flew out the window and probably got crushed! Just thinking about all that wasted caviar...!!

Toffee: [More sobbing] ...the lobster!

Frank: [Crying loudly] Fresh...caught...abalone!!

Taika: [Completely dumbfounded at her guests] I apologize for interrupting, Mr. Frank, but did you say that your DWD accident resulted in the deaths of several innocent children, school teachers, and puppies?

Frank: [Sadly] Right. And a couple stuffed animals.

Taika: [Shifts her eyes in annoyance at the mention of the stuffed animals] ...Yes...Well, with that being the case... [Leans in and slightly reprimanding and a little disgusted] Are you honestly mourning the loss of seafood right now?

Candy, Toffee, Frank: [Stare at Taika for a moment, then, in unison start nodding their heads matter-of-factly and talk on top of each other]

Toffee: [Her mascara is running] Yes. It's just such a tragedy.

Candy: [Hand over her mouth, crying]

Frank: Of course! It was 1200 dollars worth, Taika. Seafood doesn't just grow on trees, ya know. [Shakes his head at her as if she's hopeless]

Taika: [Highly annoyed] Well...thank you for enlightening me... and my thanks to each of you for bravely sharing your harrowing experiences with our viewers.

To end today's show, is there anything else you would like to say about Driving While Dining? Perhaps some words of caution?

Miss Candy, do you have anything to share?

Candy: [Suddenly brightens up] Oh, totally! [Turns to the camera and smiles broadly] Okay, listen up. If you're gonna eat when you drive, set your food out on the passenger's seat before you leave the parking lot and always make sure the drive-through person gave you icing cups!

Taika: Okay... Ms. Toffee, do you have a word of caution for our viewers?

Toffee: I have a great one! [Clears her throat and continues sagely] When you really think about it, mimes aren't very interesting, so keep your eyes on your sandwich and your foot on the brake, and you'll avoid any mime-related incidents.

Taika: I don't think mimes were the problem in your case...

Toffee: What do you mean?

Taika: ...nevermind. I'm a little afraid to ask, but Mr. Frank, do you have any words?

Frank: It's okay to be afraid, Taika. This is a terrifying subject!

Frank: But, cheer up, because my words of wisdom are about to blow you away! [Takes a big, dramatic breath] Every vehicle should come with a sub sandwich holder -- standard!

Candy: [Nodding] That's a good idea!

Toffee: I would petition for that!

Frank: And...!

[Candy and Toffee lean in to hear him better]

Frank: If you're carrying a load of bricks on top of your SUV, it's probably a good idea to put them in a bag or something!

Taika: That makes sense, surprisingly.

Candy: [Nods, mesmerized] Ohh~~

Toffee: Very profound!

Frank: And~~~!!

Toffee: [Stares expectantly] There's more?

Frank: [Loudly, looks into the camera] Hey~~ kids! If an SUV comes barrelling towards you, move out of the way, or Santa Claus won't bring you any presents this year!

Taika: [Fuming with anger]

Candy: [Applauding] Oh my gaw! That's so epic!

Toffee: [Applauding] I think my brain is about to explode!!

Taika: [Yells with frustration] Alright!! [Catches herself and mostly recovers but speaks sarcastically] Those are great safety tips!! But unfortunately, that's all the time we have for today!

Candy: But, I didn't get to tell you about the Soggy Cereal incident!

Frank: It couldn't be as devastating as my story, but please tell it.

Toffee: I want to hear it too, dear!

Candy: [Starts telling her story, which is soon drowned out by the ending theme music] Okay, so~ I was riding a scooter thingy and I had a bowl of milk and cereal in my lap, trying to eat it, you know, but this car, like, totally cut in front of me and...

Taika: [Stomps off stage, alone, before the lights fade out]

#short story #comedy #funny story #interview #spoof

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