Send them the Bill

“When was the last time we got to just sit here and look at the sunset?”

“Too fucking long.”

Shark and Sinbad took the opportunity today to go watch the sun setting over the horizon. Dennis offered to go with them, but they insisted they needed their alone time.

“Isn’t that pretty?” Shark stared in awe at the fiery ball of death that was disappearing over the horizon. The orange and yellow hues that resulted were indeed a sight to behold.

Sinbad shrugged. “I’ve seen worse.” They then quietly watched, as the beach sand seemed to become a bit cooler.

He then began squinting towards something on the lake, much to Shark’s confusion.

“Hey dude, do your grandparents own a kayak?”

“I think so, why?”

The answer to Shark’s question came in two forms: A beach ball hitting him in the face, and sudden inarticulate yelling.

Sinbad was oddly calm about the sight out on the lake. “Huh. Wondered what happened to him since last time we saw him.”

Uncle Bill had his hands up in the air, shouting what alternated between gibberish, random names and words, and obscenities. He stood in the kayak, shirtless.

“And here I thought your uncle spent his time masturbating for seven hours a day at home.”

Shark corrected him: “That was that Don Hertzfeldt film you watched.” Another beach ball, this one hitting him on the top of the head.

“Well, your uncle, to give him a compliment, he’s got some pretty good aim there.”

“I’m amazed he’s got pants on. Can you make out what he’s saying?”

The redhead strained to hear any signs of coherence in Bill’s endless tirade. “I can pick up a few words. Uhhh…”

What little he could pick up on didn’t seem to hold many connections to each other.

“I can hear…’Annette’, ‘demon titties’, ‘periwinkle’, ‘Waverly’, ‘Catahoula’, ‘Sagebear’, ‘Franco’…I can’t make out the rest.”

As if on cue, Bill then clearly shouted out, “Motherfucker stole my mango!”

“You know anybody named Annette?”

Sinbad indicated he didn’t. “The only one I know about is Olzon.”

Now Shark was very much confused. “That doesn’t explain why he’s…” Yet another beach ball to the face. “Why he’s throwing things at me.”

“Maybe you said something about the band he didn’t like. Look, should we just call your dad?”

At this point, Bill sat back into the kayak and began paddling in circles. The whole time, he was loudly declaring war on the alligators that lived in the water. Then he segued into claiming he found the hidden deeper meaning behind Uncle Grandpa.

From there, he claimed he was Uncle Grandpa himself, in the flesh. He stated that the reason he couldn’t warp reality anymore, was because Pizza Steve had betrayed him and stole his RV.

At that point, the kayak tipped over on its side and took him with it.

“Okay, yeah. Call Dad. And maybe call Uncle Dudley.”

…

Bill was a sopping wet and angry mess when he was being pushed into the squad car. Dennis and the other two watched quietly from a distance.

They waited until the door was slammed shut before any of them started talking.

“So run it by me again? What was he yelling about?” Shark and Sinbad told Dennis all the seemingly unrelated words that Bill had randomly shouted.

“Well, sounds like you boys encountered Bill, all right. Let’s see…”

The patriarch began to count off each word with some sort of explanation. “He probably got into your Nightwish CDs, which explains ‘Annette’. ‘Demon titties’, well, he always had this bizarre secret obsession with succubi.”

“What about the other words he said?”

Dennis held up a finger to quiet Sinbad. “Now let me get there! Periwinkle, well, he did have an affinity for shades of blue. Waverly, either he hates Iowans or he hates that character Hawkeye. I’m not sure which. ‘Catahoula’, that’s either the dog or the parish. ‘Sagebear’, I think is the name of a brewery somewhere.”

“And the name Franco?”

“Possibly James Franco. Bill never did like him, or the Sam Raimi Spider-Man films.”

Shark and Sinbad stared dumbfounded at Dennis’ explanations. “Okay…But that doesn’t explain why he was throwing beach balls at me.”

Now it was Dennis’ turn to look at his son incredulously. “Boy, that man attended your graduation dressed as Papa Smurf. Has anything he’s done ever make sense to you?”

“I guess not. He does do some pretty weird things.”

“That settles it, then. Now let’s get out of here before your grandparents show up.”

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