“Good morning, Jason! This is my friend, Balthazar Bitchtits!”
Jason didn’t like Balthazar Bitchtits. Uncle Truck didn’t like Balthazar Bitchtits. Balthazar Bitchtits did something stupid and Uncle Truck asked him to leave. He left. He was only worth mentioning at all because his name was really, really funny.
“Uncle Truck, I really wish you’d stop bringing weird men over.” Jason sipped down a taro smoothie from the spout of a blender before placing the jar back in its base.
“Jason, my priorities have shifted. I am no longer pursuing strange men to feel wanted; I need some financial assistance. Men are stupid. They like spending money on women they barely know.” She dropped some peeled, cubed taro into a blender with coconut milk. “Balthazar bought me the taro; my favorite, toxic tuber plant. I really wanted us to be able to eat in the mornings, so now I’m asking the doofuses to bring treats.”
“Uncle Truck! You seem to be getting along just fine! You have two jobs that you work all week, you own a house-”
“Rent a house,” she corrected him.
“Well, you appear to be living quite comfortably!”
Uncle Truck lifted her hands off of the grinding contraption. It wasn’t until she turned around and faced little Jason that he noticed her eyes were red; she had either been crying, done some drugs, or both. “Jason, Adonis died.”
“WHAT?!?!?!?!” Jason accused Uncle Truck of lying.
“He’s gone, Jason. With his personality intact, he’s gone. I wouldn’t want it any other way…”
“But what happened?”
Uncle Truck sighed. “It wasn’t long after we left him in the park with Beroe.” She petted Jason’s hair as he hugged the bottom of her waist and buried his face into her oblique muscle. “There he was, insisting that he’d never played a game of Frisbee in his life because it was a sissy game. Determined to convince those around him that he only took part in the manliest of manly activities, he reached his hand into a cooler and pulled out a plastic bag of leftover chocolate bacon. Man food! He announced with his flabby arms flexed. But that wasn’t enough. With strips of chocolate bacon hanging outward from his mouth like a hillbilly does with a thread of straw, Adonis trudged into the woods with a large stick that he told himself was a spear; he notified everyone that he was going to hunt a wild boar.”
“Then what happened?”
“Well, everybody laughed because they were all certain that this was just Adonis’s sense of humor running wild; which I can almost guarantee it was. However, as soon as he took five steps into the woods, an unforeseen giant boar emerged from the brush and tackled him, knocking him to his feet. The boar pierced him with its tusks, and Adonis bled out before help arrived.”
Jason was shocked. “That’s so sad. But I’m not sure he would have liked to have gone any other way, you know. That’s a pretty manly death.” He tried to smile, but he already missed his old friend. “And at least he’s with his Avocado, right?”
“Indeed. Somewhere on Mount Olympus, I’d presume. Arguing about pocketbooks and the validity of his alleged romp with Lena Horne… all the while making the eleven other Olympians vomit with their display of indivisible love for one another…” Uncle Truck was heartbroken, but she was all cried out from the multiple times that Adonis had been asking about the whereabouts of his Avocado, whose legal name was Aphrodite, for weeks after her heart attack. “Well, now it’s time for us to head to my remaining job! Yay!”
“Who are you and why are you in my house?!”
“I’m here to watch the new episode of “Business Shark” with you!” Uncle Truck was taking a new route and attempting to be pleasant towards the sea hag.
“I don’t recall inviting you! But then again, I don’t recall much of anything ever anymore. I don’t like you, but sure, let’s watch it.” Primrose took note of Jason standing to the side just before she turned around, “You’ve brought a beautiful, blue-eyed child.”
“Is Silverstein really the father of baby Ochocinco?! Is Silverstein going to die to prove his love for Wyleisha?!” A stereotypical announcer-guy-voice blared from the television.
“YES! YES! YES!!!!!!!!!!!!! Die, Silverstein!” Primrose shouted with a fist pump.
“The answers will be revealed… on next week’s new episode! WE GOTCHA! LOL!”
Primrose’s lower jaw moved forward as she struggled to react to the announcer’s mockery. “WHAT??!?!? What, what, WHAT?!?!?! Another week?!”
“I know, I know, it’s cruel of us! You’ve all been anticipating the results -- is Greg White actually a not nice guy? Find out next week!”
“NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Silverstein needs to die today!” Primrose smashed her fist onto an elephant-shaped coffee table and managed to fracture her hand in the process though she did not acknowledge it.
“In place of today’s long-anticipated episode of Business Shark, Calamity Central is presenting…. Fitness Douche!”
“Fitness Douche?!” Primrose was horrified.
“He’s a fitness douche! This douche means FITNESS!”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!” Primrose slumped forward in her rocking chair and immediately died.
Uncle Truck shrugged. “Well, now I have no job.”
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