Ladies and gentlemen

Ladies and gentlemen, the story you are about to read is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

 

Barney Persimmon and Renalyn Frog pushed through the front door of their Hollywood Hills home with their matching, massive pile of leather luggage. Renalyn sighing and rubbing her elbow. Barney plowing in, pouting, flopped down on the couch, gingerly touching his newly blackened eye. “Aw, you’ll be fine!” Yelled Renalyn through the unclosed bathroom door as she released a bladder full of coconut milk and champagne. “What the hell!” barked Persimmon. “You need to keep them bony little elbows of your tucked in the waist band of those stupid sweatpants of yours! Wench!” She laughs. Like a wicked duck. Or drunken clown. They had been away too long in too tight of quarters.

There was work to be done. “I need to get these windows open.” I’ll check the animals!” “Can you check the security cams please?” “In a second!” “Eat my a*s!” “You wish, don’t have any more Nutella so ain’t gonna happen!” “Pig.” This goes on for hours.

At one point they both walk through the back sliding glass door at the same time, trying to hurt each other a little as they pass. They realize what they did and smile at each other. It’s their thing. Both the hurting and smiling that is. “Holy F**k!” barks Barney. “Oh my god, pig mouth! What happened?” “Roscoe is dead! Wait, he’s still alive! Holy s**t!” Their German Shepard Boxer looked up at him panting and shaking happily. His legs and groin were missing yet the anus was intact next to a wagging, shredded tail. The whole missing area was healed over though. “F**k! I hate that alligator! Why do we have an alligator?” Because you hate him and I love him!” Shrieked Renalyn. “That is so retarded! It makes no sense, it has to be illegal!” Barney wondered why he mentioned the legality of it, he couldn’t care less about the law.

They accounted for all the other animals. Three more dogs, Maynard, Indianapolis, Cher and Bonzo. Wait, that’s four. Six cats, Leonard, Nimoy, Slacks, Tarnard, Gottlieb and whatever they other ones were named. Might as well be named after the sound the food bag makes when you shake it. Zeffalaya the snake, Rondo 69 the weasel. The Ostrich, Willy Tarzan. The alligator Bellfree and most of his little fish buddies who were hiding behind rocks. “You know what would be rad Ren Ren? A pool we could use!” Renalyn laughs and food falls out of her mouth so Barney laughs. He loves getting the last laugh.

The sound of two Iphone sixes squeal through the dank backyard air.  Text messages. “Janardo is coming over for a barbeque that he organized for our return!” Barney got the same text but didn’t feel like saying something smart even though it was teetering on the tip of his tongue. “Should we invite some peeps?” Barney imagines fat yellow Easter Peeps and the alligator eating them. “Sure.” Call Jeorge and Gabratina, they’re kind of freaky.” “Tell them not to bring guns. They always have guns. You know I’m on an anti gun rampage again after you shot the cab driver.” “He was a DICK!” Hooted Barny. Renalyn shouts back, “He was DRIVING, we were in the CAR! Idiot!”

Into the evening then. At least Forty five people show up. Odd in the fact that they had only contacted three people. There was dancing and drinking and things on fire. Dogs puking, people puking. There was food. Lots of pudding. Sex being had in the hot tub next to the pool while Bellfree watched. One of the couple knew this, the other, not. Someone had borrowed the Harley to make a tequila run. Upon return, the brakes were not used and as a result, the motor bike and rider came crashing through the living room wall slamming silently into the giant leather couch. All 45 people took picture and posted to facebook. Some were black and white, some toy camera. Narmon took a really nice shot from below and put a nice, simulated Russian Lomography shot up. Joyce DeWitt took a nice sepia tone with vintage super 8 high lights. Some fat, stoned guy took a fantastic shot from on top of the stuffed rhino head above the mantle with his pin hole camera and somehow, connected it to a computer and had it posted before anyone.

The party came to an abrupt halt two days later at the request of the police. Joy and fun had been had. Joy did not like being had but she did have fun. The windows were smeared with donut glaze. The pool water was grayish brown. The motorcycle was on fire, in the living room. S’mores had been cooked on it. The smell was horrible and disgusting at the same time. Delicious burnt sugar, toasted graham crackers, burned leather and tires. Oil still burning into the mahogany floors.

They had been participating in the chaos while simultaneously packing for their next trip. Something that they had become particularly good at over the years. Together they barged out the door, hurting each other on the way out. Smiling at each other as they packed their four wheel drive van, aptly named Fatima Parker, to the tippy top.

 

Joel James Alesch. May 28, 2014