Troubles and Treats
Page 15
“So, babe, about that pep talk before the race-”
I cut Drew off before he can say anything else. “Don’t even think it. You are NOT getting your brains f**ked out tonight!”
Chapter 15 – Dr. Duke of Earl
Contrary to popular belief, standing around at a vibrator race and allowing your wife to masturbate in a tent full of strangers when she’s actually supposed to be putting the vibrator down on a table to race it will not get you laid. Even if she promises. I try to get her to change her mind for two hours after we get home. My dad is no help. Once he had found out what happened, I get a forty-five minute lecture on how you’re never supposed to leave a man behind. After he leaves, Jenny tells me to sleep on the couch and console my penis on my own.
I try. But every time I get a good yank and pull session going, I hear Billy crying upstairs to be fed. It’s all fun and games until your kid starts crying right before you’re going to release the demons. Talk about an erection killer.
Today, I have the house all to myself and you would think I’d spend it comforting my penis, but no. I have other plans. Jenny took Billy to Claire’s shop with her today while she does some bookkeeping, and Veronica is at preschool for a few hours. I’m using this time wisely. With the help of the little package I had got in the mail yesterday, I am going to fix mine and Jenny’s sex life in just ninety minutes. I ordered a self-help CD called: How to Bring the Spark Back into Your Marriage. I’ve closed the blinds, locked the doors, and put on my favorite motivational shirt: Camel’s Tow Service; ask us about our Moose Knuckle discounts.
I grab the package from my work bag, where I hid it yesterday after I got the mail, tear into it, and pull out the plastic CD case. Popping it into the stereo system in the living room, I crank up the sound and hit play.
“Hello and thank you for purchasing: How to Bring the Spark Back into Your Marriage!”
“You’re quite welcome!” I reply to the man’s voice coming from the speakers. He’s British and British people always sound smart when they talk so this should be good. “’Ello Gov’na!”
See? He’s already made me smarter. I’m talking British.
“How ‘bout a spot of tea with the Queen?”
“Make yourself comfortable as we begin our first lesson.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” I say as I take a seat on the couch.
“Lesson One: Compliments. Repeat after me, ‘You look beautiful today, insert name of wife here.’”
“You look beautiful today, insert name of wife here.”
“Have you lost weight?”
“Have you lost weight? Man, this is so easy. I am going to rock this shit.”
“Take your clothes off and give me a bl*w j*b.”
“Take your clothes off and give me a bl*w j*b.”
“That was a trick. If you repeated that last line, you will never get laid again.”
“Heeeeey, no fair! What kind of self-help is this shit!”
“Lesson Two: Helping out around the house. Repeat after me, ‘Can I help you with those dishes?’”
“This is never going to work. She’ll know something is up if I say that shit.”
“Say it or you’re never getting laid again!”
“Son of a birthday cake! Can you hear me?” I ask the stereo in confusion.
I let out a sigh and figure I better do what he tells me or he’s going to get really angry. I don’t need self-help guy angry at me or he’ll stop helping me. “Can I help you with those dishes?”
“It’s okay, honey, I’ll fold the laundry.”
“Seriously? You expect me to believe that folding laundry will get me laid? Do you even know what you’re talking about?” I ask the stereo.
“I know what I’m doing. Say it.”
Stereo guy is starting to get a little angry. I’m kind of afraid of stereo guy right now. I want to turn him off but I’m scared. He knows where I live.
“It’s okay, honey, I’ll fold the laundry,” I say nervously.
“Say it like you mean it, asshole!”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry! It’s okay, honey, I’ll fold the laundry! Really, I will! I LOVE folding laundry!”
“Lesson Three: Helping out with the children. Repeat after me, ‘I’ll get up with, insert name of child here. You go back to sleep.”
“I’ll get up with, insert name of child here. You go back to sleep,” I say quickly so I can stay on stereo guy’s good side. I need to pass this shit or my penis is going to be batting solo forever.
“Why don’t you go for a day at the spa. I’ll take care of the children.”
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Why don’t you go for a day at the spa. I’ll take care of the children.”
Maybe I judged stereo guy too quickly. I mean he’s just trying to help me. He wants what’s best for me, and what’s best for me is Jenny’s vagina.
“I’m not changing that diaper. I don’t even know if the kid’s mine.”
“I’m not changing that diaper. I don’t even know if the kid’s mine.”
“You fell for it again, douchebag! It’s like you’re not even trying. Why am I wasting my time on you?”
“Dammit! Stop giving me trick questions! You want me to fail, don’t you? I hate you, stereo guy!”
“Don’t get angry at me. My wife still gives it up every day. You’re the one with the problem.”
“I don’t have a problem! YOU have a problem! You live inside a f**king stereo! You’re stupid and your voice is stupid!”
“I’m in your house now. I know where you live and I can see you. Don’t make me angry.”
“Oh no you DIDN’T just say that to me, you piece of shit!”
I get up from the couch and run over to the stereo, pulling it off of the shelf and dropping it to the floor. “Ha! Try helping my self now, asshole!”
“I can still hear you. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” I scream as I turn around in circles in the middle of the living room with my arms stretched out from my sides.
I run over to the plastic CD case I threw on the floor earlier and pick it up, checking the back for information about the guy who recorded it. I will not let him terrorize me!
“Oh, ho, ho, Dr. Earl Michaelson! What kind of a British name is that? Wait, Duke of Earl, wasn’t he British? Is this the Duke of Earl? Is the Duke of Earl threatening me? I know who you are and where YOU live now! You messed with the wrong man, Duke of Earl!”
I’m going to call this guy and I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Big talk from a little Duke, stereo man!”
I pull out my cell phone and look up this guy’s information on Google. Oh, Google, how I love thee. A phone number for the whole world to call. Don’t mind if I do. I dial the number and wait for someone to answer.
“Is the Duke of Earl there? I don’t know, like the song. ‘Duke, Duke, Duke, Duke of Earl, Earl, Earl. Shut up! I have a GREAT singing voice!”
I pull the phone away from my ear when I hear the dial tone.
“Stupid Duke of Earl. You need to hire better help to answer your phones,” I mutter as I hit redial.
“Yes, is Doctor Earl there?” I say, making my voice deeper. “I don’t care if he’s with a patient, put him on the damn phone! Don’t you dare hang up on me! Shit!”
I hit redial again, clearing my throat and preparing a different voice. “Is Dr. Earl there? This is his mother,” I say in a high pitched female voice. “Oh, his mother’s dead? Probably because he killed her with his awful advice! Put him on the phone!”
Dial tone again. What is wrong with these people?
“We’re not done with our lesson yet, dickwad.”
“I’m not a dickwad, YOU’RE A DICKWAD!” I yell to the broken stereo on the ground. How the f**k is he still talking to me? This is like the movie ‘Chuckie’. That damn doll just wouldn’t die. How the hell do you kill a CD that won’t die?
I call the number again and try a different tactic. “Yes, this is Punjab from Czechoslovakia. Dr. Earl ordered something from us and I need to speak to him right away. What do you mean Czechoslovakia doesn’t exist anymore? When the f**k did that happen? Wow, 1992, seriously? I probably should have learned that in school, huh. No kidding? But it’s still there, right? It didn’t like, blow up or something? Interesting. No, no message.”
I hang up the phone and realize I was fooled again. Like they would really just get rid of some place called Czechoslovakia. What would they do with all the Checkians? I wasn’t born yesterday, I know when someone is pulling my leg.
Since calling the Duke and telling him off isn’t going to work, I’ll just send him an email. I pull up Gmail on my phone and type in his email address that I found on Google.
Dear Dr. Duke of Earl Dick Fuck,
You are going down, buddy. I will make you pay for this…
~
“Yes, officer. I understand. No, I promise there won’t be any more trouble. Tell Dr. Michaelson and his family we’re very sorry for scaring him. Just send me the bill for his hotel stay.”
Jenny closes our front door and turns around to look at me without saying a word.
“Can I just expl-”
“Oh, I think you’ve done plenty of talking today,” she cuts me off. “Really, Drew? Threatening a psychiatrist and his family? He took his wife and kids to a hotel because they feared for their lives.”
Jenny walks away from the door and starts picking up pieces of the mangled stereo on the living room floor. I may have got a little too excited in my need to destroy it. There were pieces that flew all the way into the kitchen when I stomped on it repeatedly. According to all horror movies, you have to dismantle the pieces and spread them out away from each other so they can’t get back together and form an even scarier monster that will hunt you down and kill you. I was protecting my family!
“Oh please, like fleeing from his house was really necessary,” I explain as I help her pick up plastic pieces.
“You told him you were going to sneak into his house and watch him while he slept.”
It turns out the CD I bought was a fake. Some disgruntled employee who worked at the online store I had bought it from replaced a bunch of self-help CDs with one he made at home. Dr. Earl wasn’t the only one whose CDs had been replaced. There had been about a hundred other self-help people out there that it happened to as well. Oops.
“Why would you even buy a self-help CD in the first place?” she asks as she gets up and takes a pile of pieces into the kitchen to dump them in the garbage.
I stare at her ass as she walks away and try to remember the last time I had my hands on her ass.
“You look very beautiful today. Don’t worry about the dishes. I’ll take care of them,” I tell her as I dump my own pile of pieces into the garbage can after she does.
“What are you talking about? We have a dishwasher,” she says with a shake of her head as she leaves the kitchen.
“It’s okay, honey! I’ll fold the laundry,” I yell to her retreating back.
“I folded the laundry yesterday,” she shouts back angrily.
“Fuck you, Dr. Earl. And fake Dr. Earl who recorded fake CDs,” I grumble to myself as I turn the lights out in the kitchen and follow Jenny upstairs to see if I’ll be allowed to sleep in bed tonight. I’m going to go with no, but it doesn’t hurt to ask.
I get to the top of the stairs and my pillow and a blanket are already in the hall, next to our closed bedroom door. With a sigh, I pick up my things and head back downstairs.
I curl up on the couch and pull up the p**n app on my phone. “At least I still have you, little buddy.”
A few seconds later, a message pops up on my screen that says, “The p**n app site is temporarily down for service. Please try back later.”
Oh my God, even p**n doesn’t want me to have any satisfaction.
The universe obviously hates me.
Chapter 16 – VAGINA!
“The cops were at our house for two hours questioning Drew. It was so embarrassing. I’m sure all of the neighbors saw the police car in our driveway,” I complain to Liz as I add a new blog post to her store’s website.
“Right. Like THAT is the most mortifying thing your neighbors have ever seen in your driveway,” she replies as she uses a knife to slice through the tape on top of one of the boxes of inventory that was just delivered.
“That Halloween two years ago was an accident. I didn’t realize body paint was flammable, and Drew got a little too close to the jack-o-lanterns we carved,” I explain as I turn around in the computer chair to help Liz remove some of the items from the box.
“Drew stopped, dropped, and rolled na**d in your neighbor’s front yard. Didn’t he catch their maple tree on fire?”
I pull out three packages of piña colada lube and set them off to the side. “It was a small maple tree. Not a big one. And the fire was out quickly. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
Liz pushes the empty box away and pulls up another one and cuts it open.
“I think it’s a big deal when you’re both standing in your neighbor’s front yard with nothing on but glitter body paint,” Liz says with a laugh.
“Still, I can’t believe he threatened someone. And a psychiatric person at that. Like the guy doesn’t have enough problems being crazy? Now he has my husband to worry about. What if Drew sending him that email pushed him over the edge and he goes on a killing spree or something?”
I cut Drew off before he can say anything else. “Don’t even think it. You are NOT getting your brains f**ked out tonight!”
Chapter 15 – Dr. Duke of Earl
Contrary to popular belief, standing around at a vibrator race and allowing your wife to masturbate in a tent full of strangers when she’s actually supposed to be putting the vibrator down on a table to race it will not get you laid. Even if she promises. I try to get her to change her mind for two hours after we get home. My dad is no help. Once he had found out what happened, I get a forty-five minute lecture on how you’re never supposed to leave a man behind. After he leaves, Jenny tells me to sleep on the couch and console my penis on my own.
I try. But every time I get a good yank and pull session going, I hear Billy crying upstairs to be fed. It’s all fun and games until your kid starts crying right before you’re going to release the demons. Talk about an erection killer.
Today, I have the house all to myself and you would think I’d spend it comforting my penis, but no. I have other plans. Jenny took Billy to Claire’s shop with her today while she does some bookkeeping, and Veronica is at preschool for a few hours. I’m using this time wisely. With the help of the little package I had got in the mail yesterday, I am going to fix mine and Jenny’s sex life in just ninety minutes. I ordered a self-help CD called: How to Bring the Spark Back into Your Marriage. I’ve closed the blinds, locked the doors, and put on my favorite motivational shirt: Camel’s Tow Service; ask us about our Moose Knuckle discounts.
I grab the package from my work bag, where I hid it yesterday after I got the mail, tear into it, and pull out the plastic CD case. Popping it into the stereo system in the living room, I crank up the sound and hit play.
“Hello and thank you for purchasing: How to Bring the Spark Back into Your Marriage!”
“You’re quite welcome!” I reply to the man’s voice coming from the speakers. He’s British and British people always sound smart when they talk so this should be good. “’Ello Gov’na!”
See? He’s already made me smarter. I’m talking British.
“How ‘bout a spot of tea with the Queen?”
“Make yourself comfortable as we begin our first lesson.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” I say as I take a seat on the couch.
“Lesson One: Compliments. Repeat after me, ‘You look beautiful today, insert name of wife here.’”
“You look beautiful today, insert name of wife here.”
“Have you lost weight?”
“Have you lost weight? Man, this is so easy. I am going to rock this shit.”
“Take your clothes off and give me a bl*w j*b.”
“Take your clothes off and give me a bl*w j*b.”
“That was a trick. If you repeated that last line, you will never get laid again.”
“Heeeeey, no fair! What kind of self-help is this shit!”
“Lesson Two: Helping out around the house. Repeat after me, ‘Can I help you with those dishes?’”
“This is never going to work. She’ll know something is up if I say that shit.”
“Say it or you’re never getting laid again!”
“Son of a birthday cake! Can you hear me?” I ask the stereo in confusion.
I let out a sigh and figure I better do what he tells me or he’s going to get really angry. I don’t need self-help guy angry at me or he’ll stop helping me. “Can I help you with those dishes?”
“It’s okay, honey, I’ll fold the laundry.”
“Seriously? You expect me to believe that folding laundry will get me laid? Do you even know what you’re talking about?” I ask the stereo.
“I know what I’m doing. Say it.”
Stereo guy is starting to get a little angry. I’m kind of afraid of stereo guy right now. I want to turn him off but I’m scared. He knows where I live.
“It’s okay, honey, I’ll fold the laundry,” I say nervously.
“Say it like you mean it, asshole!”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry! It’s okay, honey, I’ll fold the laundry! Really, I will! I LOVE folding laundry!”
“Lesson Three: Helping out with the children. Repeat after me, ‘I’ll get up with, insert name of child here. You go back to sleep.”
“I’ll get up with, insert name of child here. You go back to sleep,” I say quickly so I can stay on stereo guy’s good side. I need to pass this shit or my penis is going to be batting solo forever.
“Why don’t you go for a day at the spa. I’ll take care of the children.”
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Why don’t you go for a day at the spa. I’ll take care of the children.”
Maybe I judged stereo guy too quickly. I mean he’s just trying to help me. He wants what’s best for me, and what’s best for me is Jenny’s vagina.
“I’m not changing that diaper. I don’t even know if the kid’s mine.”
“I’m not changing that diaper. I don’t even know if the kid’s mine.”
“You fell for it again, douchebag! It’s like you’re not even trying. Why am I wasting my time on you?”
“Dammit! Stop giving me trick questions! You want me to fail, don’t you? I hate you, stereo guy!”
“Don’t get angry at me. My wife still gives it up every day. You’re the one with the problem.”
“I don’t have a problem! YOU have a problem! You live inside a f**king stereo! You’re stupid and your voice is stupid!”
“I’m in your house now. I know where you live and I can see you. Don’t make me angry.”
“Oh no you DIDN’T just say that to me, you piece of shit!”
I get up from the couch and run over to the stereo, pulling it off of the shelf and dropping it to the floor. “Ha! Try helping my self now, asshole!”
“I can still hear you. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” I scream as I turn around in circles in the middle of the living room with my arms stretched out from my sides.
I run over to the plastic CD case I threw on the floor earlier and pick it up, checking the back for information about the guy who recorded it. I will not let him terrorize me!
“Oh, ho, ho, Dr. Earl Michaelson! What kind of a British name is that? Wait, Duke of Earl, wasn’t he British? Is this the Duke of Earl? Is the Duke of Earl threatening me? I know who you are and where YOU live now! You messed with the wrong man, Duke of Earl!”
I’m going to call this guy and I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Big talk from a little Duke, stereo man!”
I pull out my cell phone and look up this guy’s information on Google. Oh, Google, how I love thee. A phone number for the whole world to call. Don’t mind if I do. I dial the number and wait for someone to answer.
“Is the Duke of Earl there? I don’t know, like the song. ‘Duke, Duke, Duke, Duke of Earl, Earl, Earl. Shut up! I have a GREAT singing voice!”
I pull the phone away from my ear when I hear the dial tone.
“Stupid Duke of Earl. You need to hire better help to answer your phones,” I mutter as I hit redial.
“Yes, is Doctor Earl there?” I say, making my voice deeper. “I don’t care if he’s with a patient, put him on the damn phone! Don’t you dare hang up on me! Shit!”
I hit redial again, clearing my throat and preparing a different voice. “Is Dr. Earl there? This is his mother,” I say in a high pitched female voice. “Oh, his mother’s dead? Probably because he killed her with his awful advice! Put him on the phone!”
Dial tone again. What is wrong with these people?
“We’re not done with our lesson yet, dickwad.”
“I’m not a dickwad, YOU’RE A DICKWAD!” I yell to the broken stereo on the ground. How the f**k is he still talking to me? This is like the movie ‘Chuckie’. That damn doll just wouldn’t die. How the hell do you kill a CD that won’t die?
I call the number again and try a different tactic. “Yes, this is Punjab from Czechoslovakia. Dr. Earl ordered something from us and I need to speak to him right away. What do you mean Czechoslovakia doesn’t exist anymore? When the f**k did that happen? Wow, 1992, seriously? I probably should have learned that in school, huh. No kidding? But it’s still there, right? It didn’t like, blow up or something? Interesting. No, no message.”
I hang up the phone and realize I was fooled again. Like they would really just get rid of some place called Czechoslovakia. What would they do with all the Checkians? I wasn’t born yesterday, I know when someone is pulling my leg.
Since calling the Duke and telling him off isn’t going to work, I’ll just send him an email. I pull up Gmail on my phone and type in his email address that I found on Google.
Dear Dr. Duke of Earl Dick Fuck,
You are going down, buddy. I will make you pay for this…
~
“Yes, officer. I understand. No, I promise there won’t be any more trouble. Tell Dr. Michaelson and his family we’re very sorry for scaring him. Just send me the bill for his hotel stay.”
Jenny closes our front door and turns around to look at me without saying a word.
“Can I just expl-”
“Oh, I think you’ve done plenty of talking today,” she cuts me off. “Really, Drew? Threatening a psychiatrist and his family? He took his wife and kids to a hotel because they feared for their lives.”
Jenny walks away from the door and starts picking up pieces of the mangled stereo on the living room floor. I may have got a little too excited in my need to destroy it. There were pieces that flew all the way into the kitchen when I stomped on it repeatedly. According to all horror movies, you have to dismantle the pieces and spread them out away from each other so they can’t get back together and form an even scarier monster that will hunt you down and kill you. I was protecting my family!
“Oh please, like fleeing from his house was really necessary,” I explain as I help her pick up plastic pieces.
“You told him you were going to sneak into his house and watch him while he slept.”
It turns out the CD I bought was a fake. Some disgruntled employee who worked at the online store I had bought it from replaced a bunch of self-help CDs with one he made at home. Dr. Earl wasn’t the only one whose CDs had been replaced. There had been about a hundred other self-help people out there that it happened to as well. Oops.
“Why would you even buy a self-help CD in the first place?” she asks as she gets up and takes a pile of pieces into the kitchen to dump them in the garbage.
I stare at her ass as she walks away and try to remember the last time I had my hands on her ass.
“You look very beautiful today. Don’t worry about the dishes. I’ll take care of them,” I tell her as I dump my own pile of pieces into the garbage can after she does.
“What are you talking about? We have a dishwasher,” she says with a shake of her head as she leaves the kitchen.
“It’s okay, honey! I’ll fold the laundry,” I yell to her retreating back.
“I folded the laundry yesterday,” she shouts back angrily.
“Fuck you, Dr. Earl. And fake Dr. Earl who recorded fake CDs,” I grumble to myself as I turn the lights out in the kitchen and follow Jenny upstairs to see if I’ll be allowed to sleep in bed tonight. I’m going to go with no, but it doesn’t hurt to ask.
I get to the top of the stairs and my pillow and a blanket are already in the hall, next to our closed bedroom door. With a sigh, I pick up my things and head back downstairs.
I curl up on the couch and pull up the p**n app on my phone. “At least I still have you, little buddy.”
A few seconds later, a message pops up on my screen that says, “The p**n app site is temporarily down for service. Please try back later.”
Oh my God, even p**n doesn’t want me to have any satisfaction.
The universe obviously hates me.
Chapter 16 – VAGINA!
“The cops were at our house for two hours questioning Drew. It was so embarrassing. I’m sure all of the neighbors saw the police car in our driveway,” I complain to Liz as I add a new blog post to her store’s website.
“Right. Like THAT is the most mortifying thing your neighbors have ever seen in your driveway,” she replies as she uses a knife to slice through the tape on top of one of the boxes of inventory that was just delivered.
“That Halloween two years ago was an accident. I didn’t realize body paint was flammable, and Drew got a little too close to the jack-o-lanterns we carved,” I explain as I turn around in the computer chair to help Liz remove some of the items from the box.
“Drew stopped, dropped, and rolled na**d in your neighbor’s front yard. Didn’t he catch their maple tree on fire?”
I pull out three packages of piña colada lube and set them off to the side. “It was a small maple tree. Not a big one. And the fire was out quickly. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
Liz pushes the empty box away and pulls up another one and cuts it open.
“I think it’s a big deal when you’re both standing in your neighbor’s front yard with nothing on but glitter body paint,” Liz says with a laugh.
“Still, I can’t believe he threatened someone. And a psychiatric person at that. Like the guy doesn’t have enough problems being crazy? Now he has my husband to worry about. What if Drew sending him that email pushed him over the edge and he goes on a killing spree or something?”
