Dear Journal To who the fuck it concerns:
Is Lolly gonna care if I use her diary? Nah, probably not. She’s got like, four more of them stuffed away somewhere in her room.
I guess I just need to vent to something. The Boss is too busy trying to get all the legal and medical stuff in order, and Shark…well, he’s kind of the reason I’m writing here in the first place.
For whatever reason, Shark’s been rather…stubborn. Stubborn for lack of a better term.
(WARNING! Homophobic slurs and attempted filicide! Proceed with caution!)
Of all the days for the shower to stop working.
Sinbad was surprised they even had a kiddie pool somewhere in the house. If they didn’t, he certainly wanted to know where they found one.
“All right, you two comfy?” Dennis had the garden hose in hand, having just turned the water on.
“Uh, define ‘comfy’, boss.” Sinbad had to contend with Shark sitting dangerously close to him, in a space not meant for two young men.
Dennis shrugged. “Well, can I get to your hair after it gets shampooed all nice and lathery?”
Getting food poisoning was never fun.
For Sinbad, it was even more so. It meant he was resigned to laying in bed, naked and nauseous. It didn’t help that the teddy bear he got Shark for his birthday seemed to be staring at him.
He was thankful he was allowed to get up and watch TV. Despite this, he waited until the other two were done talking.
“You got all that, boy?” Dennis was repeating to his son the protocol for being left alone. Shark was clearly not in the mood to listen.
“Yeah, Dad. In case of fire, burglary, or Uncle Bill on LSD again, call Uncle Dudley.”
Normally, an invitation to the old mansion was responded to with a scoff and burning. Today, however, Dennis seemed oddly open to the idea this time.
“Well, let’s see…Pool party which will likely involve alcohol and nudity, check. Drunken idiot relatives, as well as a possibility to see the alcoholic ex-wife, check. The very high chance no lessons were learned from last time?”
Dennis looked over the invitation that was handed to him, and sniffed it as if trying to detect a hint of alcohol. “Well, I’ll have to think about it.”
This was clearly not what his daughter wanted to hear, judging from her sudden change in composure.
“Come on, Dad! Everyone else is going! I don’t want to be laughed at in school because I couldn’t go to a party my own grandparents threw.”
“I’m still not convinced.” Dennis looked over to the two younger men watching The Almighty Johnsons in their underwear. “Mister Rotter, can you tell me three signs the times are changing?”
Sinbad ceased scratching himself and looked away from the new TV screen.
The plane ride back from France had been rather uneventful. Besides Shark and Sinbad being in the bathroom too much and someone vomiting, nothing too serious happened.
Any wondrous feelings were set aside when Sinbad requested help in moving out of his current establishment after getting back.
In fact, the two were in the process of packing up his belongings the day after returning home.
“You have a lot of things I don’t think I ever remember you showing me,” Shark said as he rummaged through the drawers.
“In that case, stay out of the bottom drawer.”
“I still don’t get it, man. How’d your dad rack up the money to get plane tickets, anyway?”
The campsite nearby the French town was rather quiet at night. The two were aware, however, that tomorrow morning would bring forth a large commotion.
“He made a few cutbacks, started saving up spare change, that sort of thing. Then he sold something important, I suppose.”
“And where, may I ask, did he get that idea?”
“Ah.” For a while after that, the two lay in silence.
“Look, all I’m saying is that if you throw away twenty years of marriage to a hot Spanish chick, all to marry some pinch-faced jerk, your priorities are skewed!”
History was not usually a topic Sinbad could go on about. It especially didn’t happen as he and Shark were doing their laundry at Sinbad’s house.
“Things were different back then, I guess. That, and he really wanted a son. But yeah. He did kind of throw his first wife aside like she was trash.”
“Speaking of wives, how’s the boss’ divorce proceedings?” Sinbad had meant to ask Dennis how things were going, but he kept forgetting to do so.