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bullyyourgayuncle · 4 years

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Bully Your Gay Uncle, A Series of Vignettes Concerning Steven Boxleitner, Becky Botsford, and the Ethics of Being a Jewish Man with a Mouse Brain Attached To Your Head

Becky isn’t quite sure how she’s related to Steven Boxleitner – her dad’s cousin’s wife’s brother, or something like that. It doesn’t really matter how they’re related - all that matters is that he’s the closest family the Botsfords have in the city, and that he discovers her secret early on. He becomes the only person she can trust with her secret for a long, long time.

Becky loves her Uncle Steven. How many kids can brag about their multiple-doctorates uncle? Some of her classmates don’t understand exactly how smart he is, but all Becky has to do is describe the contraptions in his lab to capture her friends’ attention.

Uncle Steven isn’t just smart – he’s also one of the nicest people Becky knows, and he cares about her as if she were his own daughter. His one flaw is his airheadedness, and it’s a forgivable sin. He’s Becky’s favorite uncle by far, and the Botsfords invite him over just as often as they drop Becky off at his lab when they have a date night or have to go shopping with T.J.

Then, of course, the accident happens, and things change.

Becky can’t even look at her Uncle Steven after first putting him in jail, much less speak to him. She doesn’t know what to think. Her parents don’t know that he’s changed, and she feigns illnesses every time they discuss dropping her off at his home. They don’t find out he’s been put in jail until he calls a month after and tells them he’s been released.

“So, yeah, feel free to drop Becky off whenever you need to,” he rambles in that strange, new, higher-pitched voice of his. “Sorry about all this.”

Tim Botsford frowns, and calls his wife over to discuss the situation.

“I don’t know about leaving Becky alone with a criminal,” he says in the same innocuous tone he says nearly everything in. Becky pretends not to listen to the conversation, but she can’t help herself. Her mom sighs.

“He’s not really a criminal,” she wheedles. “He was arrested for cheese crime. That’s about as criminal as a parking violation.”

“I still don’t think it sets a very good example for the kids,” Tim says.

Sally sighs. “Let’s sleep on it. I’m sure it’ll be easier to decide in the morning.”

Becky goes to sleep, hoping that the adults can solve the problems for once.

——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ———

Two-Brains regresses into a bad uncle before he becomes a good uncle again. He knows he’s being a bad person, but he can’t bring himself to care for a while. All that matters is cheese.

Becky captures him and hands him over to the sheriff, and he’s cognizant enough to realize she’s incredibly upset. He sits behind bars for his given time before his release, and then he visits his rabbi.

Rabbi Donenberg barely bats an eye when he strolls in. “I had a feeling you’d be here soon enough.”

“No ‘welcome back?’” He grouses. His mood is exponentially worse than it was as Steven, and the mouse brain is still aching for cheese. Rabbi Donenberg shrugs.

“How are you, Steven?” she asks.

“Not Steven, Dr. Two-Brains,” he snaps. “Steven’s not here right now.”

Rabbi Donenberg hums to herself. “Alright, Dr. Two-Brains. What do you need help with?”

Despite himself, he hesitates. “I don’t think my niece likes me very much anymore.”

“Can you think of anything that may have caused this change?” Rabbi Donenberg asks dryly.

“I came to you for help,” he says, scowling.

The rabbi shrugs. “Have you talked to your niece since the incident?”

“...yes?” It's not a lie.

“Are you not sure?” Rabbi Donenberg asks.

Two-Brains makes a “feh” noise and shrugs. He’d been confronted by Wordgirl. He wasn’t sure if that counted as talking it out with his niece.

Tell her Becky is Wordgirl! the mouse brain yells. It had been a near-constant thought in Two-Brains’ mind since he acquired the pesky thing.

I will not do that, he thinks back crossly. Be quiet.

Cheese! Now!

Two-Brains pulls a piece of cheese out of his lab coat pocket and eats it. Rabbi Donenberg watches him do so, her eyes flitting between the cheese and the mouse brain.

“So you have or have not spoken with your niece?” she asks.

“Sort of?” Two-Brains answers. “We’ve met. We haven’t really talked.” Again, not quite a lie.

“You know, I may not have any PhDs, but I’m not an idiot. You are a poor liar,” Rabbi Donenberg says.

“I’m decently wealthy, actually,” Dr. Two-Brains quips. “You would think the college would fire me after the accident, but I’ve got tenure, and–”

“Now you’re just avoiding the subject,” Rabbi Donenberg sighs. “My suggestion is that you actually talk to her. She’s about ten, right?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s going to be going through a tough time soon enough anyway, and she doesn’t need to be worrying about you on top of that,” she says. “Reassure her that you’re there for her, despite your – um, condition –”

“You’re referring to the evil mouse brain I fused to myself, correct? Just to be clear.”

“Yes, Steven –”

“Dr. Two-Brains!”

“Dr. Two-Brains,” Rabbi Donenberg corrects, rubbing her temples. “Just be there for her, the best you can. Reassure her you won’t hurt her, and that you still love her, and that none of this is her fault.”

Two-Brains leaves feeling more guilty than he did when he arrived.

——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ———

Becky – Wordgirl, rather – pulls him into the hallway by his arm, and glares at him. She says nothing, so he takes initiative and speaks first.

“Hey, Becky,” he says, smiling. “How’s my favorite niece?”

“Two-Brains,” she replies shortly, and yeah, it may be true, but it hurts. “What are you doing here?”

“What, in my synagogue?” He rolls his eyes. “What do you think?”

“What do I – what evil thing are you planning now?” she demands. “Are you gonna turn the building into cheese? The books?”

Two-Brains blinks at her. “I have cheese with me,” he says frankly, pulling a small bit out of his pocket. “To keep the mouse brain in check so I don’t cheesify the Torah. I do this every Friday night?”

“No, Uncle Steven did this every Friday night!” she exclaims. “Not, not you!”

“I have his brain, you know,” Two-Brains says. He’s irritated, but he only lets mild annoyance creep into his voice. “It wanted to go to temple, so we went to temple.” He moves to walk back into the sanctuary, and Wordgirl – Becky – zips in front of him.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m missing the service – can we do this after?” He asks, exasperated. “I haven’t seen these people in two weeks because I was in jail.”

“You committed a crime! You wouldn’t have been in jail if you hadn’t!” she says. “And you broke out! I should take you back to jail right now!”

“I haven’t done anything!” He says, and tries to move past her again. She picks him up and zooms him to the end of the hallway. “Becky –”

“It’s Wordgirl,” she says venomously.

Those two words shouldn’t hurt as much as they do. Two-Brains grimaces.

“I just want to attend services,” he says. “I dragged myself all the way here, out of a sense of tradition, or loyalty, or muscle memory, and now I just want to finish services. No heist, no scheme.” He raises his eyebrows. “Is that alright with you, Becky?”

She scowls. It’s always been strange to see Becky’s face twist in anger – he’s known her since she was a happy, super-powered baby– but it’s so much worse to have the scowl directed at him. She looks so much older and angrier than she should.

“You can come in with me if you want,” he says. He doesn’t really want to extend the offer, but he does want to get back to the service. “Keep an eye on me, if it makes you feel better.”

Becky is still glaring, but she gives a sharp nod. “Fine.”

They slip back inside, and Two-Brains knows everyone notices that Wordgirl is in their synagogue, but no one says anything to them. He re-situates himself in his place in the back, and tries to figure out how much he missed.

——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ———

“What are you saying?” Becky whispers. Two-Brains is caught off guard, and he stumbles over the words.

“It’s Hebrew,” he whispers back, and Becky rolls her eyes.

“Duh. What does it mean?” She presses.

“Just, like, prayer stuff. Hoping for peace and all that jazz,” he answers. People have begun singing, and he jumps in.

“Sounds kind of hypocritical,” Becky mutters. Two-Brains ignores her to finish the song.

“I can hope for peace and not be a hypocrite,” he objects quietly. “I’m just of two minds. One wants peace for people and the other wants a piece of cheese. I’ve reconciled that within myself.”

“That’s a loophole!”

“Yes, it is,” Two-Brains agrees, and holds a finger to his lips. “Now be quiet. The grannies are going to give me an earful after this.”

——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ———

“God, it’s so much easier to keep Kosher now that I really only eat cheese. Not that the mouse brain isn’t partly carnivorous – calm down, Squeaky, it’s just a fact – but man, I’d completely mix my meats and cheeses before, and eat all the good stuff the big man upstairs forbid. This cheese-based diet is a life saver.”

Two-Brains is talking as he eats. His temple is never short on cream cheese, and he’s able to put lox on the bagel without Squeaky throwing a fit.

“You used to say that religious dietary restrictions were scientifically foolish,” Becky says with complete confidence. She’s thirteen - the world is still mostly black and white for her, and Two Brains doesn’t fault her for it. She’s a kid.

“Yeah, well science schmience, Steven still felt guilty about it,�� he responds. “But now I’m home free.”

——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ———

“It’s not easy being a Jew with a mouse brain attached to your head,” Two-Brains says. “Enough people think I’m a rat as is.” He winces as Squeaky barrages him, offended at the word. “The rat part because I’m Jewish, Squeaky, Jesus. Learn to pick up context clues. I know you’re not a rat.”

“That’s…” Becky starts, and trails off. “Are you allowed to say that?”

“If anyone is allowed to, then I am,” he says. “I don’t think anyone else in the world is in this situation.” He gestures at his machine. “So, what do you think?”

“I think you should keep your day job, stand-up just isn’t your calling,” Becky deadpans, and that startles a laugh out of Two-Brains. “The machine is good, Uncle Steven. Even if it is cheese technology.”

——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ———

“I hate church. I feel like I’m going to burst into flames,” Two-Brains mutters, and Becky elbows him in the side.

“Uncle Steven never complained,” she whispers back as the priest wraps up his homily. “He just sat there happily.”

Two-Brains snorts. “Becky, I still have his brain. He wasn’t happy, believe you me.”

Becky scowls. “Just be quiet. It’s T.J.’s first communion, it’s important.”

Two-Brains rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything else. He earns another elbow in the ribs when he chooses to sit rather than kneel.

“Steven would –”

“Blah blah blah Steven, I’m not kneeling. Absolutely not,” he says. “End of discussion.”

This is something Steven’s brain has full agency over – Two-Brains despises church. He has cheese in his pocket that he’s trying to discreetly eat, to sate Squeaky. If Becky wasn’t right next to him, he wouldn’t even be discreet – but then again, he wouldn’t be there if Becky hadn’t asked him to be there. T.J. is his nephew, he supposes, but T.J. never got along with him like Becky does.

He can feel his eyes glazing over, and then everyone is standing again. They sing another song – that’s the only non-miserable part of this whole service – and then the priest does something with the crackers and steps forward. People begin to file out into the center aisle, hands folded together.

Becky pokes him. “You shouldn’t have your hands folded,” she whispers. “Cross them over your chest, so the priest knows not to give you communion.”

Two-Brains keeps his hands folded and ignores Becky. She pokes him again.

“Uncle Steven, your arms,” she emphasizes, then demonstrates herself. Two-Brains continues to ignore her. Steven had always been curious about the cracker, but had never had the guts to try to get it. Two-Brains is going to get that cracker.

“You are unbelievable,” Becky hisses.

Two-Brains is able to get the cracker from the priest, and he triumphantly chomps down on it. It’s dry and not very satisfying. He foregoes the wine—the common cup has always grossed him out.

“That was terrible,” he says once they’re seated again. Well, he’s seated. Becky is kneeling. “You know what church needs? A cheese platter. Crackers and wine and cheese.”

Becky ignores him.

——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ———

Becky throws herself onto Dr. Two-Brains’ couch as soon as he lets her in. “I hate boys.”

Two-Brains snorts. “You and me both.”

Becky sits up. “Aren’t you going to ask what’s wrong?”

Two-Brains shrugs. “Do you want me to?”

“Yes! Jeez, why else would I be here except for some sympathy?” Becky throws her hands in the air. “I tried talking to my mom, but she just doesn’t get it. You’re the only person I know who has worse relationships than me.”

“Relationships? You’re twelve,” Two-Brains says. “You’re not in relationships.” His human brain seems to catch up with Becky’s words, and he scowls. “Also, rude. Rude, rude, rude.”

“It’s the truth,” she huffs. “You haven’t dated someone since I was in elementary school.”

Two-Brains crosses his arms. “That wasn’t too long ago, and may I remind you, I have a mouse brain attached to my head. I look twenty years older than I am, and I’m not exactly young.”

Becky waves her hand dismissively. “Whatever.” She rolls over on the couch, looking at Two-Brains expectantly.

“What’s wrong, then?” He asks, taking the hint.

“Tobey! He’s unbearable; I don’t know why he can’t just talk to me like a normal person!” She exclaims.

“Is that the kid with the giant robots?” Two-Brains asks. He vaguely remembers teaming up with him, but he’s never been great at remembering names. Once you knew one twelve-year-old, you knew them all.

“Ugh, yes. Giant robots and a giant pain in my side,” Becky groans. “So, I was wondering, how do you get a boy to stop liking you?”

Two-Brains looks at his niece with his arms folded across his chest. “And, again, you are asking me because…?”

“Well, no one but me really seems to like you all that much,” she says, brutally honest. “Even your henchmen seem to be on the fritz most of the time.”

That stings. Two-Brains keeps the look of genuine hurt of his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, Becky, you shouldn’t want to not be liked.”

“I didn’t say that, I just want Tobey not to like me,” she says. “I need you to focus whatever makes you unbearable to be around and tell me how to direct it at him.”

“Okay, okay, okay, can you lay off?” Two-Brains asks. “I don’t need constant reminders that no one really likes me.”

“Except me and my family.”

“Except for you and your family,” Two-Brains amends. “Family doesn’t count, though, because family’s required to love you no matter what.”

——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ———

“I don’t know if I want to go back to being just Steven,” Two-Brains says through gritted teeth. “Becky, you’re very smart. You must understand that I, as a person, should not exist.”

“But –”

“I’m not Steven. I’m your uncle, and I love you, but I’m not Steven,” Two-Brains says. “I’m not Steven or Squeaky, I’m a freak of nature, a combination of both of them, and I don’t know how I could possibly go back to being two separate entities.” A stab of pain hits him hard, and he winces. “Ow, ow, ow, Squeaky, I know, I was agreeing!”

Becky frowns at him. Two-Brains has noticed she’s been doing that more and more. “Don’t you want to be free, though?”

“This is freedom – what part of “shouldn’t exist” didn't you understand?” Two-Brains asks. “And beyond that, being Steven wasn’t being free. I had a set schedule, I had set hours, I worked for the school. I lived and breathed research, mostly on the behalf of someone else. So what if I have an obsession with cheese? Better a –” He cuts himself off, because Becky looks so sad and shocked, and that’s his thirteen-year-old niece who doesn’t know how cruel the world can be. He sighs. “I’m happy like this, even if the mouse brain goes haywire sometimes.”

“Uncle Steven?” Becky asks, and Two-Brains hears the nerves in her voice. “Why do you not think you’re Steven Boxleitner?”

It’s Two-Brains turn to frown. “Because I’m not.”

“But you always talk to the mouse brain like it’s its own entity, and you never talk to the other brain. You talk about his memories like they’re yours,” Becky points out.

Two-Brains doesn’t have an answer for her. “I used to fight with Steven.”

“No, Squeaky used to fight with him,” Becky says. “And then you stabilized.”

“This isn’t stable, this is – I don’t know, I just learned how to deal with it!” Two-Brains says. He realizes he’s raised his voice, and he takes a deep breath to bring himself back down. “I’m the only person who can deal with this mess, because it’s my mental state. I had to learn to deal with it.”

“And now you do?” Becky asks.

“For the most part. I cope. I manage.” Two-Brains sighs, and allows a small grin. “But I’m free.”

#wordgirl #becky botsford #dr two brains #steven boxleitner #bully.txt

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