Let us join Philip and Liz in the kitchen of their father’s Mission/Tudor house on North Ivar Avenue, in Hollywood, USA...(Click here to go to our previous embarrassing episode, or go here to return to the first chapter of this “shocking saga of lust’s labor’s lost in Lala Land” -- (J.J. Hunsecker, in the International Herald Tribune.)
“Dad’s got a babe upstairs.”
“Fuck off.”
“Word. I saw her. Naked. I barged into Dad’s room without knocking and --”
“Oh my God --”
“-- there she was, just standing there.”
“For real.”
“For rizzeal.”
“Naked.”
“Naked, baby.”
“Oh my God. You mean, like, young?”
“Yeah, pretty young. Twenty--”
“Twenty?”
“Twenty-something, dude.”
“Oh my G--- wait. Philip. Are you fucking with me?”
“No. Go look.”
“Wow. You saw her, fucking naked.”
“Not fucking, but naked.”
“Wow. Did she have a nice body?”
“Yeah. Built. Nice breasts, natural --”
“Was Dad naked?”
“Yeah, but he was in bed and he had the covers over him a little bit.”
“Oh wow. Did you -- see his penis?”
“No. Thank God.”
“What should we do?”
“Finish bringing your stuff in.”
“But Philip --”
“What?”
“We can’t. We’ve got to go away for a while.”
“He didn’t --” Philip paused (Buddy had guessed right, Philip was high; after doing without pot the whole trip, on the way home he had stopped the U-Haul at a taco vendor’s he knew on Highland over near Hollywood High and bought a ready-made spliff.) --”say we had to go away.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I mean he’s already been busted. Unless -- wait --”
“What?”
“Maybe they didn’t finish screwing.”
“Eww. Just -- eww, Philip.”
“Maybe they’re up there screwing right now.”
“Stop. I do not want to think about dad screwing some bimbo.”
“You don’t know she’s a bimbo. You’re such a priss, man.”
“I’m not a priss. I just don’t want to think about Dad fucking. Yucko. What are you doing?”
“I’m getting a beer.”
“Philip.”
“What?”
One thing about Dad, the motherfucker always had good beer in the fridge.
“Philip. I think we should split.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He pulled out an Anchor Steam. “You want one? Oh, right, no beer, right?’
“No. I’ll take some Diet Coke.”
Philip put his beer down on the counter.
“One Diet Coke, coming up.”
“Oh my God.”
“What?” Philip upended a glass from the dish rack and filled it from a plastic magnum of Diet Coke. “What?” he said again.
“What if she’s a prostitute?”
“A prostitute?”
“Yes! I mean --”
“I hadn’t thought about that.”
“Think about it, dude.”
Philip handed her her Diet Coke.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Liz drank some of her soda, holding the glass in both hands. Philip popped the top off his beer and took a pull.
“Yeah, we should book,” said Philip.
“Except now I want to know who she is. What did she seem like?”
“Just -- you know, a chick. A nice chick.”
“Nice?”
“Yeah. She was -- very -- polite.”
“Wait -- you talked to her?”
“Just a little.”
“While she was naked?”
“I told you she was naked.”
“Oh my God.”
“She --”
“What?”
“She had a cool voice. It was, like, wet.”
“She had a wet voice.”
“Yeah.”
“She’s a whore.”
“Well, if she is I’d say she’s a pretty high-class whore.”
“Oh. Really.”
“What I mean is she wasn’t just some, you know --”
“Crack whore.”
“Yeah.”
Liz sipped her soda
“Fucking Dad.”
“Can’t leave him alone for a minute,” said Philip.
“Like a little kid.”
“Fucking Dad.”
“Dad, fucking.”
They both snorted.
“Shit,” said Philip, “the beer came up through my nose.”
“You’re gross. All men are gross.”
“Fucking Dad, fucking.”
They both snorted again.
“Oh, hi,” said Philip.
“What?” said Liz.
“Hello,” said Cordelia.
Liz turned around.
“Oh. Hi.”
“Hello.”
Cordelia was dressed now, with her red backpack slung over one shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” she said, to both of them.
“Hey, no,” said Philip. “I should be sorry. I’m the one who barged in.”
“Well, I just wanted to say I’m sorry anyway.”
“No problem,” said Philip. “Where’s Dad?”
“He’s -- he’s --”
“Hiding,” said Philip. “The coward.”
“Well, I’ll go now,” said Cordelia.
“Wait, don’t just go,” said Philip. “Have a beer. You want a beer?”
“I don’t really drink beer.”
“Philip,” said Liz, “let her go.”
“Yeah, I’ll go.”
“No, wait,” said Philip -- “what’s your name?”
“Cordelia.”
“Cordelia. I’m Philip.”
“I know.”
“And this is Liz.”
“Hi Liz.”
“Hi.”
“Don’t just rush out,” said Philip. “I’m sure Dad doesn’t want you to just rush out.”
“I don’t know. This is weird.”
“Philip --” said Liz.
“What?”
“I really better go,” said Cordelia. Ming came in, jumped up on the table, looked at Cordelia. She patted Ming’s head. “Hi, cute cat. What’s your name?”
“Ming,” said Liz.
“Hi, Ming. Hi, Ming.” Ming jumped down from the table and trotted away. “’Bye Ming. You’re moving from Milwaukee, Liz?”
“Yeah.”
“I love Milwaukee. I did a show there once.”
“Really? You’re an actress?”
“Yeah, that was my one real road tour.”
“What was the show?”
“Sound of Music? With Richard Chamberlain?”
“Wow,” said Philip, “did you play the like Julie Andrews part?”
“Oh no, I was the little twit, you know --” she sang, “’I am sixteen going on seventeen --’”
“Ah,” said Liz. “I love that show.”
“Hey, how was Richard Chamberlain?” said Philip.
“Oh, he was nice. So what were you doing in Milwaukee, Liz?”
(Continued here, no matter what the Nielsen ratings say.)
(Please go to the right hand side of this page to see a listing of links to all other available chapters of Uncle Buddy’s House™, soon to be a major motion picture produced and directed by Larry Winchester, provided George Clooney will come down ten mil in his asking price, although we’re open to giving him points.)
4 comments:
Buddy's got great kids. Personally, I hope Cordelia doesn't leave too soon. All happy families know what's funny, and they know how to keep up the fun.
And just think, Deirdre hasn't even gotten home from school yet. Oh, the fun's just starting...
This reminds me of a certain Brady Bunch episode...I can't remember which one, though.
Manny, I must order the Complete Brady Bunch Box Set because I must see this episode!
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