I am a Granfather surviver
Page 3 of 6
A message was on the machene from my stepmothor in California. I called back and she asked me a favor: Could I please call my brothor and sisterinlaw and convince them to come to Texas for Thansgiving.
Boy that realy hurt my feelings. I was planning to start crying when i got off the phone but insted I yelled at him and said he was VERY mean and creid on the phone and we got in a big argoument.
Then i went outside agian to give medocine to our two pet goats, Pansy II and Vice President of Brand Development Halla Mackowska. They have not ben feeling too good for the past week and a few days prior we had the livestock doctor come by and give them medocine. He said that one of the goats (which i will not name) was sufforring from Seperation Anxeity from leavin its last ownor and both had been eating some wierd stuff.
I had asked the vet if he woud briefly look at Granfather's teeth while he was here (i.e, an unexplained mossy growth) or atleast give him this year's heartworm or parvo shot and he said NOT ON YOUR DANM LIFE. Then he made me pay him in cash before he left and i did not get a receitpt.
Locol merchents do not like to do business with our family.
Uncle Zeke came back from brekfast in town, but didnt come in the house. He stayed outside fussing with his colectibles in his car trunk. The goats dont like the medicine, and i was chasing one of them aruond the trailer when i heard my uncle start cursing and Granfather start luaghing from inside. The Montel show just ended and the bastord had trundled himself into the bathroom agian, standing up once more with his frightful face at the small window. He was cackling his ass off cause he had taken the Purple Turben that belonged to my Uncle, (his esteeamed headdress from the Secret Colector's Society) out of the sink where it was soaking in Woollite and unfourled it out the window and the goat had part of it in its moulth. But the goat was choking cause the turben was made of polyestor and not cotten. At the same time the othor poor animal yakked up a piece of papper, somthing on it that read:
He hollered up to his halfbrother a disparraging comment about Granfather's patternal parentage, (which diffored in both species and phylum from his own.) Granps screammed and howled obsceinities back, and spit more venommous poison tobacco jiuce at him with his proficient aim.
The greasy looking brownish yellow fluid arc sloshed in the air from Granfather's teeth and hourtled towward us in a broad, spreading loop. I was able to duck but Uncle Zeke and his precoius bannana sticker colection took a full splashing volley. Like i said the bastord has incredoble expert aim.
I ran inside the house and took from the closet this homemade, eldorly savage homecare imploment called "Granpy's Little Helper." We have othor tools at home, such as the Granpa's Bad Boy contraption but I'd never used this new one before. It consists of a vacuume cleanor tube with a bare electricol cord looped thruogh. I am suposed to loop it arround his skinny evil neck, then tighton it with this ratchet crank on the handle. If the beast still fights me, i am alowed to plug in the cord.
The Bio-Phenomnena cryptozoologists from the University who regulorly examine Grampy said the electricol charge might stun him but wont harm him.
"LIKE THEM SHARP EDGES?" Granfather snickored at me, his spindly knobbey legs quavoring from suporting his weight at the window, which he still clutched with his hourny talons.
"ANY AMATEUR KIN DROP A LOAD BUT IT TAKES YEARS O'CONTROL TO GIT THEM PERFECT EDGES."
Uncle Zeke never married but sevoral decades back when he still lived in Texas there was a dumpy local widow he was sweet on but was too shy to evor ask her out so nothin evor came of it. Granfathor recounted the story in a loud mocking tone.
Granfather sprang ahead of him and blocked the doorway by gripping a hairey chimplike paw on each side of it. He growled like an animol. Zeke said, "Git out the way, little brothor."
Then Granfather bit his lip and shut one eye and tremboled and shuddered all over. The vains were poppin on his neck and wrists and forhead. I am not ashammed to say i got the hell out of there and ran to my room to unplug my powerstrip and then i went to the fusebox and shut all the circuts. Somthin BAD was coming. He was gettin ready to fource out an incredoble fart. I hollered to my Uncle, "On your knees, eyes closed, head between your legs and nose pinched shut!" just like the Civil Defense guy who came to vissit our familly last year told us but he didnt hear me.
"THIS HERE I NOW PROUDLEY PRESENT IN HONOR OF MY MOST HATED VISITING BROTHER IS THE THUNDEROUS FURY O' THE GREAT REEKARD WAGNER."
...which of course Granfather pronnounces "VOG-ner". If theres one thing i cant stand, it's the old bastord's affected genteel classicol music radio stattion anouncer voice.
As the noxiouss gas filled the trailor the small cerramic tiles on the sink wall buckled and the little hay broomstik of the Lucky Kitchon Witch(R) on the wall bourst into flame and I heard a terribble popping noise from inside the reffrigorator which was louder than popcorn and mabye even firecrackors and a pool of clear yellow oil seeped on the floor. It was the Vitamin E capsoules inside the frigde which exploaded.
"NOW YOU KIN GO" Granfather said finaly unblockking the way so Uncle Zeke coud pass.