Tagged: brother

As the Last Notes of the Regis St Oink Oink Theme Song Died Away

  • by jenthe “wheezing and clapping” kind
  • you buoyant balloon of happiness
  • lashing us to our seats for well over two hours
  • lively, voluptuous brunette
  • casinos in the middle of the Andes

Tune in next time part 829      Click Here for Earlier Installments

As the last notes of the Regis St Oink Oink theme song died away, Fleur bowed. The audience, knowing what was expected in the presence of the Warlord’s daughter, cheered and applauded. We were all so exhausted by now that it was more the “wheezing and clapping” kind of ovation than the “shouting and fist pumping” kind, but Fleur didn’t seem to care. With a smile on her face she adjusted the microphone stand as low as it would go and then said to our son the Duke, “It’s your turn, you buoyant balloon of happiness. Make Mommy proud.”

I was regretting my decision to give each child the spotlight, and I wasn’t the only one. While my son caterwauled into the microphone, Jim leaned over and whispered, “This is worse than Father lashing us to our seats for well over two hours that time so we wouldn’t interfere with his date with the lively, voluptuous brunette. Remember?”

I nodded sadly. Of course I remembered. Mother had been away, gambling at her favorite casinos in the middle of the Andes, and she’d left Father in charge. I wanted my children to have better childhoods than I and my siblings had. Would that be more likely to happen if I were an active parent, or if I stayed the hell away?

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“Dammit,” Jim Said Around a Mouthful of Churro

  • by jenfrom the cloaca of a quartz tortoise
  • have to find a back-up baby tuxedo
  • Cobwebby.
  • despite the ketchup and clam juice
  • use it in a rap song

Tune in next time part 821      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Dammit,” Jim said around a mouthful of churro. “I had a lot of money riding on that polo match. With it cancelled, where I am I gonna get my big score?”

“From the cloaca of a quartz tortoise, of course,” I said, referencing the secret compartment where my father used to hide his cash. Jim chuckled.

Isolde’s voice came through the loudspeaker next. It sounded like she’d just wrestled the microphone away from Fleur. “In place of the polo match we will be holding an infant talent show in the auditorium. Anyone who wants to compete will have to find a back-up baby tuxedo and a baby to go in it.” Something about Isolde’s voice sounded dusty. Cobwebby.

“Is she high?” I asked no one in particular.

“I assume you’ll want to attend this talent show,” said Jim. “Since all the babies on board are yours.” He stepped up to the churro stand in search of dipping sauce, and despite the ketchup and clam juice being clearly labeled, dunked his churro in both.

I stared in horror. If Jason were here he’d find a way to describe how disgusting it was and use it in a rap song. In his absence I merely gagged.

“Well?” Jim asked. “Are we going to this talent show? I’ll call my bookie.”

“Yes,” Tessa said, ice in her voice. “Tell, me, are we going to go sit in a room full of your baby-mamas?”

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Jim was the Kind of Guy

  • by jenplayed the piano occasionally dressed only in a towel
  • sweet but also slightly tart nectar
  • we mapped our hometown carefully
  • by an unidentified hand with red ink
  • as far as my layman’s eye could see

Tune in next time part 813      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Jim was the kind of guy who played the piano occasionally dressed only in a towel, so it only made sense that he named his dog after himself. His ego knew no bounds. He once told me that women craved him like a sweet but also slightly tart nectar. And mostly they did. When Jason and I were kids we mapped our hometown carefully, and one day we found that our map was covered with hearts drawn by an unidentified hand with red ink. Jim later admitted to marking the homes of each of his girlfriends. As far as my layman’s eye could see, he had one on every street.

And he also had a dog named James, so when I called that name out in the puppet theater, it got his attention. He looked startled to see me.

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Apart From the Man in the Front Row

  • by jendressed in an all-black suit
  • suede and velvet
  • and tenacity and
  • cutest earmuffs he’s ever seen
  • make this videoconference party special

Tune in next time part 811      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Apart from the man in the front row who’d demanded to know my identity, there were only two other people attending Jim’s pornographic sock puppet show. I didn’t recognize them. On stage, Jim was dressed in an all-black suit as puppeteers often are, but his suit was made of suede and velvet and tenacity and snakeskin. On his head were what he calls the cutest earmuffs he’s ever seen. They’re shaped like penguins, and I have to admit they are adorable. Jim adopted a squeaky voice for the female sock puppet and said, still with his southern-tinged slavic accent, “Tonight we make this videoconference party specialest videoconference party ever, da?”

Tessa and I smirked at each other. That was the start of the raunchiest part of the show. Before it could really get good, though, the door behind us slammed open and an irate Petit Julien lurched into the puppet theater.

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Being A Father Wasn’t My Life’s Dream

  • by jenbarreled into fatherhood
  • collecting the frog juices
  • slobbering over himself
  • good old-fashioned jealousy
  • got engaged two weeks after her sister

Tune in next time part 737      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Being a father wasn’t my life’s dream. I’d always had a take-it-or-leave-it attitude about kids, and yet I barreled into fatherhood with such reckless abandon I had no idea whether this baby in the adorable little gold booties was one of mine.

Fleur lifted the infant she held out of the water with one hand and patted its diaper with the other. “Good thing he’s got this collecting the frog juices.” She chuckled. She was more stoned than I’d ever seen her.

The baby in my lap was slobbering over himself, fist crammed in his mouth. “Better slow down on the cheese, Fleur, or soon you’ll be drooling like this little guy.”

As I expected, this made her immediately reach for the cheese. While she was distracted I signaled to Tessa that she could come up for air.

“What is Isolde doing here?” she demanded in a whisper. If I didn’t know better I’d think my sweetie was suffering from good old-fashioned jealousy. Strange that it wasn’t my wife that brought it out in her, but my sister-in-law. But then I remembered that Tessa and John got engaged two weeks after her sister Tallulah married my brother Thor, which made her my sister-in-law. Was my sister-in-law’s sister also my sister-in-law?

I shook my head to clear it. I hadn’t even eaten any of the camembert and I was still getting fucked up just being near it.

I heard Isolde returning, presumably with towels.

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I Could Hardly Be Angry With My Wife

  • dressed in a sheer green sweater
  • If it is wintertime
  • I would have been prepared for the screams
  • inscribed with messages from the monarch
  • paralyzed by the atrocious confession

Tune in next time part 725      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I could hardly be angry with my wife for sleeping with my brother when I had slept with her sister, half-brother, and sister-in-law, and I could tell she regretted her actions. It was as if she were dressed in a sheer green sweater of shame, a garment both unattractive and impractical. If it is wintertime, anyway. Or if we crashed into the snowy mountains. That event seemed much less likely as John manipulated his magnet a final time and the airship’s engines hummed back to life. I would have been prepared for the screams of everyone aboard if we’d been shot down, but was happy not to hear them just the same.

“Good work, John,” I said. “Now let’s get you those pancakes.”

“He’ll have to eat them in the brig,” said Fleur. “I can’t allow someone so dangerous to roam freely about my blimp.”

“Then you should lock up my mother, too.”

The cells of Royal Contrarian Airship brigs are made of platinum bars inscribed with messages from the monarch, Fleur’s father. They taunt the prisoner for being inept enough to be caught at whatever misdeed they were up to. Mother would hate it.

As Fleur summoned guards to escort the newlyweds to their new accommodations, I decided to see if she was still under the spell of her truth-telling trigger phrase. “You seemed to expect me to be paralyzed by the atrocious confession you made a few moments ago,” I said. “Could it be that you regret your actions because you’ve grown fond of me?”

A declaration of love from my wife would be most unexpected, but I could think of few other reasons for her to want to keep her dalliance with Jason from me.

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While Jim Waxed Rhapsodic about Agriculture

  • by jendo you really want to be the groomsperson to a deeply unreasonable person
  • spanked me on two nonconsecutive occasions
  • random forks lying around
  • glorious carnality, rapturous eroticism
  • so they can watch him peel his jeans off

Tune in next time part 695      Click Here for Earlier Installments

While Jim waxed rhapsodic about agriculture, I was finally able to work my thumbs deep into the blue fur and release the child safety lock on the panda head. A prerecorded message came from a speaker somewhere deep in the panda suit, a woman’s calm voice saying, “Witnessing a surprise mascot unheading can be traumatic. Please make sure no children are in the vicinity.”

We were in a petting zoo full of children, and Jim couldn’t wait. He had to get that head off. The zoo staff were quick to react. They summoned all of the mothers, and together they formed a human wall to screen the children and all the baby animals from any view of Jim. And just in time! He popped the panda head off and dropped it to the floor. He was exceedingly sweaty. Esmerelda unzipped the fur suit and he stepped out of it, steaming and dripping.

The mothers of all my children suddenly inched closer, attentive. “Ah,” I thought. “Jim’s a good-looking guy. They’re doing that so they can watch him peel his jeans off.”

And that’s just what he did, in an act of glorious carnality, rapturous eroticism, and decadent sensuality.

Just then Fleur strode up. She kicked the chilled fork out of her way, and said, “Why are there random forks lying around the petting zoo? And why is Jim naked?”

“Would you believe me if I told you those things were related?” Jim asked with a smirk.

Fleur ignored him and turned to me. “Why aren’t you at the wedding? You’re supposed to be the groomsperson.”

“Wedding?” I asked. “Who’s getting married?”

“A man who spanked me on two nonconsecutive occasions.”

Before I could ask any questions she took me by the arm and marched me away from Jim and the women. I asked myself, “Do you really want to be the groomsperson to a deeply unreasonable person, the sort of person who spanks a warlord’s daughter?” The answer was no, I did not want that. But did I have a choice?

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All This Attention from Mr Carousel

  • by jenwhen I used to ride a motorcycle
  • tequila anyhow
  • imagine a new color
  • biggest mittens he could find
  • Nepotism!

Tune in next time part 691      Click Here for Earlier Installments

All this attention from Mr Carousel reminded me of when I used to ride a motorcycle. I was approached weekly by talent scouts, people who would offer me anything my heart desired if only I would sign on with the Asphaltcapades. They made so many promises: Bathtubs full of champagne! (Or tequila anyhow.) A new bike in any color I could imagine, a new color for my leathers, too. One particularly odd fellow offered to buy me the biggest mittens he could find if I would only sign a contract. I turned them all down, just as I was trying to turn down Mr Carousel.

“I’ve got to check on my brother,” I said, gesturing at the blue panda. Jim was trying to undo the child safety lock on his big blue head.

“Nepotism!” cried Mr Carousel. “I love it! That’s the perfect theme for your routine!”

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As Many of You Probably Know

  • by jenOh honey, *yes.*
  • They call me Mr Carousel
  • an almost imperceptible click
  • only dispenses Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups
  • large enough for a man to pass through

Tune in next time part 687      Click Here for Earlier Installments

As many of you probably know, ice is slippery. What you, like me, may not know is that Contrarian military dress footwear is polished with excretions from icicle slugs. Soles included. I whizzed and twirled across the hockey rink, pinwheeling my arms to keep my balance.

A man in the stands leapt to his feet and yelled, “Oh honey, yes.”

I spun into the wall and grabbed on to prevent myself from taking another slapstick lap. The frost-encrusted fork nearly went flying. My newest fan clambered over the seats and opened a door not far from me. He held out a hockey stick, and I used it as a lifeline to reach him and exit the rink.

“That was some amazing ice action,” he enthused. Then he stuck out his hand for me to shake. “They call me Mr Carousel. I’m a talent scout of the Royal Contrarian Icecapades. I would love to take you to the big leagues, baby.”

I gestured at my uniform. “I already have a job. And a mission.” I saluted him with my frozen cutlery and headed toward the exit. Here on dry land my shoes were only a little bit slippery, nothing I couldn’t handle. I made an almost imperceptible click with each step.

Mr Carousel wasn’t going to let me go so easily, though. “If you sign on with the ‘Capades, I can get you anything you want. You want a vending machine that only dispenses Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups large enough for a man to pass through once he eats the middle? I can get you a vending machine that only dispenses Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups large enough for a man to pass through once he eats the middle. You want chilled silverware? I can get it for you, chilled by professionals.”

His offer was tempting, but it would certainly take too long. By the time the lawyers hammered out all the details in the contract Jim and Esmerelda would be beyond help. And yet, I had always dreamt of a career in skates…

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You’ve Probably Noticed

  • by jen(aka Slippery Eel)
  • eat all the candy yourself
  • said through giggles
  • we never were sentimental
  • I’ll bite down hard on a

Tune in next time part 685      Click Here for Earlier Installments

You’ve probably noticed my tendency to swear like a sailor. It’s an unfortunate habit I picked up during my time on the tramp steamer. While I usually have no compunctions about letting the profanities fly, I’ll bite down hard on a four letter word when there are children around. I’m not sure where my squeamishness comes from. In my family we never were sentimental about the innocence of childhood. I remember many, many times when the bluest language was said through giggles in the playroom. Any little thing would set my siblings off. All you had to do to be lambasted was change the channel on the TV while someone else was watching, or eat all the candy yourself on Halloween, or give someone a wet willie (aka Slippery Eel).

I mention all of this so that you’ll understand how difficult it was for me to not give voice to my frustrations with the ineffectual restaurant employee, the rude circus people, and the thick layer of frost keeping me from the frozen cutlery I needed to derail my rampaging brother and protect my myriad offspring.

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