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I went inside to check the messages. There was a mesage on our machine agian from Uncle Zeke who sounded like he really wanted to talk to us. Unlce Zeke is very no nonsence and never seems agittatted but he told us to call right away. Dad did, but the line was busy. He doesent have call waiting.
Granfathor was absollutely furious. He screamed and hollared at poor Junior for "KILLIN' HIS DEAR LOVING NON-HUMAN CAININE-AMERICAN COMPANION." (Granfather is very carefull ever since he was facing a lawsiut for animol abbuse to be sure to use the politicolly correct terms for dogs).
Junior left in tears just as granfather hollered after him that he woud see him "six feet under" beffore he'd evor allow him back on our property. He said "IM SORRY GRANPY!!" and was tremboling in fear even thuogh the old coot was ensconced in his steel and alumnimum prison. Junoir is a nice simple minded kind of guy, who, even if he sees granfather in a ridiculuous fix like this mangled couch, will never, ever even bring it up to him or even ask qeustions about it.
It was all just for theatricol drammatics. Granfather didnt give a danm about the dog. And this is one of the dogs who was so old its a mirocle he even lived so frikkin long anyway. (And to just give you an idea how close Granps was to him: If the danm dog ever had a name, the old bastord forgot it long before I ever moved in with him.)
Within his catorwauling he goes into some lame story abbout how he had to go to California to get fitted for an Iron Lung and now he doesnt have his favvorite dog to comfort him. Of course with all that howling, the other dogs start houwling too. So granps said: "SEE? THEM OTHER DAWGIES MISS THERE PAL, AN' YOU KILT HIM, JUNIOR, YUH KILT THET POOR HOUND." Have you evor seen someone suposedly in an 'iron lung' weeping at the top of his lungs with a cigaret clencthed in his teeth? Well that day four peopple in our yard did.
We told Granfather to STOP IT. And also to forgive Junior cause it wasnt his fault. As soon as Junoir was gone granfather said "THET OLE POOCH WUZ OLDER'N ME, AN' ITS ABOUT DANM TIME THE MISORABLE CRITTER OF A MUTT UP AN' DIED." and right after he said it he cackoled his ass off in a screeching laugh like the Wizord of Oz witch.
They also said for me to not be afraid to set some parrameters for Granfather, based on his abillity to behave himself. This included, (but was not limmited to) restricted access for the old bastord to TV and the Internet. I descided right there that his 2 favorite shootem up conputer games, Duke Nukom 3D and also Redneck Rampage woud be off limits efective imediately until there was an extreme abbout face in how he acted. (I didnt say this in the meeting becouse i was afraid of how the old bastord woud react--but i DID decide it). Just then the phone rang.
It was Uncle Zeke. We finaly got a hold of him. Dad put him on speakorphone and asked him what he was so anxouis about wanting to talk to us about.
My uncle heard the whole story abbout Granfathers predicoment and said: "Whut i wanted to tell yuh was thet this here sofa bed probly wont float. So MY vote is you drag the old so-and-so down the canyon and 'Send him deep, Mister', as they say in the Navy."
(Uncle Zeke is anothor person who is kind of dull witted becuase ovbiously we already KNEW that. But this wasnt a voting sitouation, and even if it was, that was not one of the votes.)
When granfather heard this he was livvid. He started screamin at him and then Uncle Willaim, granpy's other brother who was in the backround started hollering too. Dad slammed the phone down and cut everyone off.
But as soon as we made the holes, Granfathor started yelling at us to make new holes. He wanted the holes to be as far to the cornors of the contraption as posibble. "IF'N I'M GONNA BE ROLLIN', I WANT 'CAB-FOWARD DESIGN' LIKE IN THEM CHRYSLER COMMERCIALS, WHERE THE GUY SAYS: 'THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING.'"