WARNING: Reader discretion is advised
Sunday football. It’s an age-old American tradition, especially at Kenny’s place. Even his mother was into the sport. This was the playoffs, however, so everyone had to be into it. The living room of the double wide was filled. On the couch sat Kenny’s mother in a long sun dress sitting Indian style, Elizabeth in blue jeans and one of those Evil Bunnies T-shirts, and Mary in a black leather miniskirt, Smash The Reds! T-shirt and high heel boots. Both girls sat with their legs crossed.
Kenny had his own chair that displayed the logo of his favorite football team- the Pittsburgh Steelers, to duplicate his chair he wore a Ben Roethlisberger jersey and camo shorts. I sat in a rocking chair at the end of the couch nearest to Mary; it was the same thing every week. Except for the playoffs of course and the Steelers were first seed. Mary was glaring at the TV, not liking the fact that the Baltimore Ravens had a black quarterback. They started the play and within seconds the rookie safety sacked him. Mary laughed and clapped her hands with much glee.
“That guy has to be the hardest hitting safety in the history of the Steelers,” Mary chimed, beaming as they replayed the sack.
Kenny looked over at her and raised an eyebrow. “That guy barely got the quarterback down. The hardest hitting safety from the Steelers was Troy Polamalu before he shattered his knee last year,”
“Yeah right,” Mary rolled her eyes, “He was small as hell, that safety is all ripped. Look at the nigger he sacked. Took him a good minute to get back up,”
“Maybe it’s the fact that’s the second string quarterback,” sneered Kenny.
I kept quiet; Kenny was literally in love with the Steelers. He was right though, Polamalu was a hard hitter. Mary kept babbling on until I heard a smack. I turned my head and saw Mary doubled over holding her knee. I held back a laugh as Elizabeth got up and put Mary over her shoulder and walked out of the room.
Kenny and I burst out laughing as Elizabeth came back shortly. She sat back down, crossed her legs like a lady. “Now we can watch the game,” she smiled at Kenny sweetly.
I have to ask. What did you do?” I asked.
She looked at me through narrow eyes, “I put her in the garbage can. She’ll be out in a bit,”
I shook my head. “Let’s watch the game before she starts to yell,”
“SHANE!” Too late. “SHANE! COME HELP ME!” her voice roared.
“Anyone want a beer?” I asked as I went into the kitchen.
“I’ll take a Stone Sour,” ringed Kenny’s mother. We all stopped and looked at her. She looked at us and then around her, “What? You’re 21, you know how to make drinks,”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know you drank,”
Kenny laughed, “She can drink any one of us under the table and still be sober enough to tell you every detail the next morning,”
“That’s more than I can say,” I said as I ventured to the kitchen. I shortly returned with a double shot glass of Stone Sour and handed it over to her.
“That’s because you’re a light weight,” Kenny teased.
I sat back down and pulled a Bud Light out of my pocket, opened it and took a swig.
Moments later Mary finally walked back in, looking livid, glaring at Elizabeth and then at me. I smiled “Hey baby. You missed a great play,”
Mary glared at me, “So I’ve heard,”
“Want a beer?” I offered with a smile.
“She’s not 21 yet,” Kenny’s mother warned.
“Didn’t know you cared,” Mary rolled her eyes.
“Hello” rang a singsong voice. We all looked over and saw Lulu, the golden crested Amazon that belonged to Kenny’s’ mother puff herself up in her cage. Her cage was right next to Kenny.
“Don’t start Lulu!” yelled Kenny.
“Where’s Barbara?” she ranged, calling for her former owner. “Barbara! Barbara!”
“She’s not here!” barked Kenny.
“Hello Lulu, can you count?” she started to talk to herself.
“Oh great. We got extra commentary,” he sighed and hung his head.
“One… Three… Four… Five,” repeated Lulu.
“You forgot two,” I said.
“Five,” Lulu repeated.
“Six,” Mary urged on.
“Five,” Lulu repeated simply.
“SHUT UP!” ordered Kenny.
“Here kitty, kitty, meow,” and Lulu started to laugh to herself.
“We really need to get a cat,” Kenny muttered.
“Pretty girl,” she sung to herself.
“You are?” urged Kenny’s mother.
“Who’s a pretty baby? Lulu!”
“She’ll eventually go mute… with a lot of hope,” Kenny told himself as he strained to keep his eyes on the game and not shake Lulu’s cage.
Lulu finally went quiet as halftime was called.
Mary looked at me, “Oh babe, Uncle Tom told me to tell you to meet him at The Grind tomorrow. You two are going to meet someone important. Or was it you’re going to do something important? I don’t remember which,”
I raised an eyebrow, “Remind me to find a new receptionist,”
All of the sudden, Lulu started to yell, which made the sleeping Dusty jump up and run. He collided into the front door, turn around and pounced on Kenny, taking him down. We all shared a good laugh as Dusty licked at Kenny’s face. Kenny even laughed after he shoved the dog off.
The next day, with beer still on my breath from the after party (Which is pretty much just Kenny and I continuing to drink after everyone was asleep); I was standing next to Tom at The Grind. It was a strange feeling seeing the place empty, all the equipment unused. I stole glance at Tom while he was reading the morning paper, I examined the front page carefully. Nearly all of the bills have been passed. The ones to gain support and ones to control the people. We’ve nationalized health care, added more border patrol agents, reconstructed all the ghettos in the ten most populated urban communities, closing seaports and denying international flights and some other stuff that Tom and the Organization 28 wanted. Elections was coming up, but it didn’t matter who won, the Organization was the real captain of the ship now.
I didn’t understand the laws much, but I thought it be easier to let the old man run wild. I mean I did get his niece pregnant after all. We were to meet our parties Representative for the presidency here, to make sure we were all on the same page. Inside I was smiling, I felt like The Godfather, keeping the lawmakers in my pocket. Suddenly my eyes gazed on the name of our Representative. I looked up at Tom in disbelief.
“Hold on! Let me get this straight, the election is down to an Arab and who?”
“His name is Alexander Hamill. You know him.”
“Yeah, I know him, that pretty boy scumbag,” I snarled. “Scumbag? Now who’s talking old fashioned,”
“I thought you have to be at least 35 at least to be in the running,”
“You did. But notice how Congress is getting younger as well? It’s soon to be an unenforced guideline of the Constitution. Like the Constitution itself” smiled Tom.
I shook my head. “How America hasn’t figured out what’s going on is just amazing,”
“Americans only believe what the media wants them to believe. Lucky for us the kikes are very greedy, so buying them out was the only option,”
“Yeah, Holocausts surely don’t work on them,”
“Shane Magnar, my old training buddy,” a cocky voice rang. Tom and I turned to see a young man with beach boy blonde hair pulled back with enough hairspray to make Cher sneeze, with ocean blue eyes and flawless skin. If beauty was only skin deep, then for Alexander so is personality. He gave a fake politician smile with perfect pearl white teeth. He surely was a $2 politician in a three-piece suit.
“Alexander, you bastard. How you get this far?”
“I’m a crooked bastard, remember?”
“All too well. You were bred for politics. Rich scumbag with prom queen looks,”
Alex narrowed his eyes, “You mean prom king,”
“No, queen suits you just fine,”
Tom interrupted, “We’re gonna have the sand nigger killed before the election, going to use Shane’s handy Treason Prevention Act for protection and claim he is bin Laden’s nephew,”
“Glad I can be of service. Tom why did you bring me here if Alexander was already in The Alliance and you know he’ll do what you say?”
“Because, old buddy, we need you for a job,” Alex grinned.
I never liked that grin, “For what?”
“Puerto Rico,” he simply stated.
“What do I have to do with Puerto Rico?”
“They are a U.S territory and for those who vote against me, to go there and show peace it will win votes. I hear you are familiar with the culture,”
“Drink rum on a beach and fry beans twice. Ain’t much to learn,”
“Then let’s go,”
“To Puerto Rico?”
“Not yet, Alexander,” interrupted Tom again. “We need you to be in office first. Right now you have to stay in America and make promises that seem believable and make the people think they are safe. And when the election comes, we kill our adversary. You can use that in your campaign as Americans are survivors or something catchy,”
“Not bad, Tom,” Alex nods like an obedient dog to his master; “You and Shane are really helpful. So when I become elected, I want you two front and center so we can go and take over those savage spics,”
“Wait, what?” I asked.
“Didn’t I tell you?” asked Tom. “We’re going to take over Puerto Rico and use it like Alcatraz. Just like we did with the ghettos. We just need you to make it sound all sweet for the press; you’re a words man, Shane. You understand,”
“It’ll be my pleasure,” I lied.
“Good, see you after I get sworn in,”
I glared, “You know the only reason you are in this election is because Jerry White was killed. If this was a real election you wouldn’t even be in the running,” Alex gave a fake laugh, “Temper, temper. Lucky for me, the guy did die. What a legacy he left though,”
“How did you even get noticed?”
“You know how far deep pockets and blackmail can get you,”
“You are a bastard,”
Alexander just gave me his politician smile, “That’s my name,”
I gave Mary a long kiss as I placed my hand onto her swollen stomach. I felt our love child kick inside her. She looked into my eyes with her green eyes. “So you’re going, but not Kenny?” she asked innocently.
“I ain’t going to the land of spics,” snarled Kenny from the rocking chair.
“I don’t blame you. But hell, might as well see how they make the rum,”
“Fuck the rum, I’ll stick to good ol’ Tennessee whiskey,” he chimed, raising a double shot glass. I took what was left of the Jack Daniel’s bottle into my suitcase. I needed as much liquid courage as I can get, leaving for Puerto Rico tomorrow.
“Give me some!” yelled Elizabeth as she came in with their crying eight-month-old daughter,Faith-Rose. “This child cries more than a faggot with no frills,”
I opened my mouth to say something but let it go.
“Have you two found a name?” asked Kenny’s mother as she entered without notice. She was looking at Mary, as I re-read the newspaper headline about the Arab drowning in the swimming pool. Either he was a real bad swimmer, or Alexander was getting scared. I looked up at Mary, curious to see if she came up with a name.
“We’ll find out when it comes,” Mary suggested.
“The cards are in your favor, Shane,” she said in that sing song chant.
“Because I’m heading to Hell itself?”
“Your heart shall be your guide, not your hate,”
I raised an eyebrow and looked at Kenny, “Dude, how come you haven’t admitted her yet?”
Kenny looked up at me from the rocking chair, “Why?”
“She’s talking crazy,”
Kenny blinked, “She didn’t say anything. All she ask was what ya were going to name ya kid,”
The girls and Kenny looked at me in an odd way. I looked at his mother who had a small grin. Damn how I hate those Indian head tricks.