The Second Coming

Part II {Read the first part in the previous post. An Overdue Conversation}

 

I’m fresh up out my coma…

I got my Momma and my Daddy and my homies in my co’na…

It’s gonna take a miracle they say…

For me to walk again and talk again but anyway…

I get, fronted some KIs…

To get, back on my feet…

And everything the homie said came to reality…

Living like a baller loc…

Having money, and blowing hella chronic smoke…

I bought my Momma a Benz, and bought my boo boo a Jag…

And now I’m rolling in a nine-trizzay L Dogg Rag…

Wait a minute. Those are the lyrics to Snoop’s ‘Murder Was The Case.’ Sorry about that…points off my grade.

Everything promised, to me, came true. Obviously, the big guy is no liar; we all know he is great and powerful. Especially after he saved that Dorothy chick and her little dog!

****** (Most people credit Paris Hilton with creating the little doggy trend, but Dorothy was the true O.G. when it comes to rolling with a miniature pup. She also started the red bottoms craze…that girl was way ahead of her time.) ******

I sat on the balcony of my beach front mansion and watched the waves crash into the unlucky bathers who are probably wishing that the Pacific Ocean was a few degrees warmer. As I sat thinking of a billion dollar invention to heat up the shark infested water, a star appeared in the sky. I was amazed at how bright it was. The star wasn’t brighter than the others; it was the only visible light through the thick Los Angeles fog. For a few seconds, it appeared that the star was getting closer, and the light grew blinding.

Little did I know; this was no star. I was being visited by an angel.

Angel: “God evening.”

Me: “Hello. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Angel: “I am angel.”

Me: “I am human.”

Angel: “No, moron. My name is Angel.”

Me: “Oh…my bad. I was wondering why god sent a slow angel.”

Angel: “Don’t you mean retarded angel?”

Me: “No. You can’t say that word; it offends people.”

Angel: “You know I can read your mind; I know you wanted to say ‘retarded.’”

[I laugh.]

Me: “So, when is Jesus coming…no homo?”

Angel: “Don’t you mean ‘when is he coming…extra homo?’ You know I can read your mind.”

[We laugh.]

Me: “Definitely not. Keep on playing and I’ll send him back an extra virgin.”

[He laughs.]

Angel: “Ok. I guess there isn’t really anything to do, other than give you his arrival date since you seem prepared.”

Me: “Great! What day?”

Angel: “He will be here tomorrow.”

[The angel disappears.]

I didn’t sleep well that night. The anticipation of Jesus returning to earth was too much excitement. It only makes sense for the big guy to choose me as The Christ Chaperone…I guess I am the second coming of the apostle Peter. Unlike the previous guy, I am not sharing the limelight with anyone else.

I was awakened by a bright light. I struggled to open my eyes, but I was finally able to make out a man standing at the foot of my bed. He appeared to be of Indian decent.

Me: “Who the hell are you?”

Figure: “It’s me, Jesus.”

Me: “Why the hell did you choose to be Indian? Do you not know that most of the billion citizens are not Catholics? You’re definitely not a big deal over there.”

Jesus: “Of course I know. I’m going to convert them once they see my new face.”

Me: “That’s actually a great idea.”

Jesus: “Yeah, dad knows what he is doing.”

Me: “I’ve been waiting for you. I hope you’re ready! I have a slut in the other room and she is ready to yell out your dad’s name.”

Jesus: “What? That’s too early…I’m not ready right now.”

ME: “WHAT? I can’t believe you’re freezing up again. You’re dad is going to be pissed.”

Jesus: “I’m not freezing up…I just want to do it with a girl I choose.”

Me: “How long is that going to take?”

Jesus: “I don’t know…maybe a couple nights.”

[I start laughing.]

Me: “I’m just messing with you.”

Jesus: “Oh…yeah; I knew that.”

Me: “Sure! I see that you didn’t get any of that ‘all knowing’ stuff from your dad. You definitely got your smarts from your uneducated mother.”

Jesus: “Who said my mother was uneducated?”

Me: “C’mon. Everyone knows women didn’t go to school back in those days.”

[I wink.]

Me: “The good O’le days!”

Jesus: “The what?”

[I laugh.]

Me: “I’m just kidding.”

Jesus: “What are you going to do when you end up in Heaven and have to face my mother.”

Me: “Not sure…depends if she is a M.I.L.F. or not!”

[He grows angry.]

Jesus: “What did you just say?”

[I can’t help but laugh.]

Me: “I’m just kidding…I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

Jesus: “I’m not sensitive; I just didn’t hear what you said. I have had trouble hearing from my left ear, since the crucifixion.”

Me: “Oh, damn. I didn’t know. Why can’t your dad fix it?”

[He laughs.]

Jesus: “You’re an idiot. I have the power to perform miracles and you think I have a bad ear?”

[I laugh.]

Me: “I’m definitely slipping.”

Jesus: “No…you’re just dumb.”

Me: “Let’s go do something.”

Jesus: “It’s your town. You tell me what we’re going to do.”

Me: “Actually, your dad pretty much owns the entire universe so it’s really your town.”

Jesus: “Now that I think about it, I don’t know if I should trust an idiot with this decision; ths is my first night.”

[I begin to sing.]

Me: “If I could walk on water, would you believe in me.”

[He shakes his head.]

Jesus: “I hate that fucking song.”

Me: “First of all, the song is great, and secondly, who the hell said you can curse?”

Jesus: “I can do whatever the hell I want. What are you my mom?”

Me: “No, but I am your chaperone and you will respect me.”

Jesus grows larger and spreads his arms out over his head and begins to yell.

Jesus: “You shall Respect ME!”

For a second, the room goes black. Suddenly, I seem to be tiny. I look in the mirror and discover that I am now a ladybug.

Me: “Change me back or…”

Jesus: “Or what?”

Me: “Or…or I will not help you get laid. I’ll tell women that you are a virgin. Annnnd a pedophile.”

[He laughs.]

Jesus: “I’m not a fucking pedophile.”

[I laugh.]

Me: “It’s going to take some time for me to get used to you swearing.”

Jesus: “It’s not that big a deal.”

Me: “Yes it is. And yes, you are a pedophile.”

Jesus: “You’re an idiot.”

Me: “Ok, you’re not a pedophile, but your priests are.”

Jesus: “They’re not my fucking priests.”

[I laugh.]

Me: “C’mon. Just change me back.”

Jesus: “Ok. But first, you have to beg.”

Me: “Just change me back.”

He crosses his arms and bows his head quickly. I turn back into myself.

Me: “What the hell! Did you just pull a genie move from the television show?”

[He laughs.]

Jesus: “You know it.”

Me: “Seriously. We have to set rules, because I’m not dealing with that type of nonsense.”

[He laughs.]

Jesus: “Now look at who is sensitive.”

Me: “Ok, we don’t need rules, but you can’t abuse me. I’m trying to help you out.”

Jesus: “Alright, I get what you are saying.”

Me: “Cool! Let’s go, jerk.”

Jesus: “What did I do to deserve that?”

[We laugh.]

The night turned out to be a success. We got some food then hit up a few bars in Hollywood. Jesus was a big hit, and it appeared that he was ready to lose his virginity.

The following morning, I woke up early and made some breakfast.

Jesus: “That smells good. What did you make for breakfast?”

Me: “Some eggs, bacon and home fries.”

Jesus: “Sounds good…I’m starving.”

Me: “Yeah, I woke up feeling the same way.”

Jesus: “Where is my plate?”

Me: “I didn’t make any for you.”

Jesus: “What the hell?”

[I shrug my shoulders and continue to eat.]

Jesus: “Why didn’t you make some for me?”

Me: “It’s every man for himself around here.”

Jesus: “That is very selfish of you, but not a problem.”

[A plate of food appears on the table.]

Me: “Must be nice!”

Jesus: “Yup!”

Me: “Did you have fun last night?”

Jesus: “Yeah. It was great.”

Me: “Did you see anything worth a poke?”

Jesus: “On Facebook?”

[I shake my head in disapproval.]

Jesus: “Sorry, but I had to.”

Me: “I guess.”

Jesus: “I did like the girl from the pizza place.”

Me: “Oh yeah! I completely forgot about her. You stole my phone and texted her all night. You missed out on some hot chicks.”

Jesus: “Not really. I like Cece.”

Me: “So is she the one?”

Jesus: “Yeah, I think so.”

Me: “When is it going down? Or should I say, when is she going down?”

Jesus: “She’s not some random whore…I’m going to take her out on a proper date and let things happen as they will.”

Me: “Yeah, that’s exactly what I said. Let me rephrase. When are you going to bang the slut?”

[He gets annoyed and shakes his head disapprovingly.]

Jesus: “You’re a moron.”

Me: “When is the date?”

Jesus: “I’m meeting her this afternoon, and we’re going to hang out all day.”

Me: “Sounds like a lot of work. If I had the power to perform miracles, I’d be on chick number 17 by now.”

[He laughs.]

Jesus: “I don’t think we are looking for the same thing.”

Me: “You’re right about that. I have no desire to land in the friend zone.”

[He shakes his head.]

 

Jesus left the mansion to go on his date with Cece. I waited up all night, but he never returned. The following afternoon, I decided to sit by the pool until he finally arrived.

Me: “There he is. I can’t put my finger on it, but there is something different about you.”

Jesus: “No. I’m exactly the same.”

Me: “Are you serious? What the hell did you do…spend the night and read Bible versus to each other?”

Jesus: “No, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Me: “What happened? Did you freeze up?”

Jesus: “I don’t feel comfortable talking about what happens between me and Cece.”

Me: “You mean Cece and I.”

[Jesus is annoyed.]

Jesus: “Ha ha. What is that…a you banged Cece joke?”

Me: “No, I was correcting your grammar. You said me and Cece, but you are supposed to say Cece and I. You are truly your mother’s son.”

Jesus: “Who cares. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Me: “Are you fucking kidding me? You are going to tell me every single detail, or I’m calling your dad.”

Jesus: “How do you plan on doing that?”

Me: “I don’t know…pray, I guess.”

Jesus: “If you must know, I am no longer a virgin.”

Me: “Are you serious? I can’t believe it…my little boy is a man.”

[I wipe away fake tears.]

Jesus: “It was the greatest night of my life.”

Me: “Better than the crucifixion?”

[I laugh.]

Jesus: “You’re the dumbest person I know.”

Me: “What happened?”

Jesus: “I’m not going into personal details. All you need to know is that I performed and she was satisfied. P.S. I am no minute man…Lionel Richie was definitely singing All night long.”

[I laugh.]

Me: “I need some details.”

Jesus: “I can tell you that I plan on hanging around for a while.”

Me: “What? What the hell are you talking about”? Don’t tell me you fell in love.”

Jesus: “Cece is great and she has some great ideas.”

Me: “What kind of ideas?”

Jesus: “We were talking and I want to have a son; he will be the next Messiah.”

Me: “Son? Tell me you strapped up.”

Jesus: “You think I waited two thousand years to wear a condom?”

Me: “JESUS CHRIST! I hope you pulled out.”

Jesus: “Of course not. She is on the pill.”

Me: “Oh my GOD! You’re dumber than I thought. That’s what all the groupie whores say.”

Jesus: “She isn’t a whore.”

Me: “I can’t believe this chick might be pregnant.”

Jesus: “There is no might. If I want her to be pregnant she will be, but if I don’t want her to be pregnant, there will be no child.”

Me: “What the hell? I thought your church was against abortion.”

Jesus: “It’s not an abortion.”

Me: “Whatever you say buddy. Sounds like an abortion to me. Good for you.”

Jesus: “You’re a complete idiot.”

Me: “Can you please explain to me why the hell you want to have a child with this chick?”

Jesus: “If I have a son, he can help to convert the non-Christians and bring the entire world together.”

Me: “That’s a dumb idea.”

Jesus: “It’s Cece’s idea and it’s great.”

Me: “I can’t believe this. Two thousand years and you finally get some pussy and you lose your damn mind.”

Jesus: “You’re too dumb to understand the importance of me having a child.”

Me: “You don’t even know this chick and you’re ready to make her the mother of the next Messiah? What’s her real name…I need to do a little background check.”

Jesus: “For what?”

Me: “Because you were born from a virgin and we don’t need your son born from some Biblical groupie slut.”

Jesus: “You don’t even know her.”

Me: “Neither do you.”

Jesus: “Give me your phone.”

[He enters her name and loads her Facebook profile.]

Jesus: “Here.”

Me: “Good! At least you know her name. Let me see. Damn, her page is private.”

Jesus: “Check again.”

Me: “Jeez, you can really do whatever you want.”

Jesus: “Not really. You don’t see me killing you.”

Me: “Relax, I am on your side.”

Jesus: “I can’t wait to tell my dad about Cece’s plan.”

Me: “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Jesus: “Why not?”

[I hand him my phone.]

Jesus: “What the hell is this?”

Me: “That’s Cece’s ass and half of those comments are from guys who clearly have tapped it.”

Jesus: “That’s not necessarily true.”

Me: “NO? Why don’t you call her and ask?”

Jesus: “No problem.”

[He takes the phone and enters the house. He then returns after a long conversation.]

Jesus: “This sucks!”

Me: “What?”

Jesus: “She’s a fucking whore.”

Me: “She admitted it?”

Jesus: “It’s kind of hard for people to lie to me.”

Me: “Oh yeah. Wait…I’m confused. How did you not see this with all of your super powers?”

Jesus: “I don’t know. I guess my mind was clouded because of the sex.”

Me: “Yeah. That makes sense. What did she say.”

Jesus: “She planned on getting pregnant and making me grant her wishes instead of child support.”

Me: “What the hell did she think…that you were the Genie from Aladdin?”

[We both laugh.]

Jesus: “I don’t know, but some of you humans are fucked up people. I think I’m ready to go back. I don’t want to risk sleeping with some super whore who strips me of all my powers.”

[I laugh.]

Me: I don’t think you have to leave, just remember to let your dad do the planning from now on. You’re definitely your mother’s son.”

[He laughs.]

Jesus: “I can’t wait until you have to face her.”

Me: “She seems like a nice lady…I think I will be alright.”

Jesus: “I’ll sleep on it and think about staying.”

Me: “Stay a little longer and we’ll have a blast.”

Jesus: “We’ll see.”

{The End}
@PeteTeix617

 

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Terrifying Brown

     I do not have a reason for my absence; I simply allowed my laziness to take over. I’m not sure how frequently I will post, but I felt the urge to write an entry, today, so here goes.

     On a recent flight to Boston, I brought along a book of short stories by Stephen King. I guess you can say he inspired this post, but the truth is I had the crap scared out of me. For those of you, who frighten easily, do not continue reading.

     The move to Burbank has been absolutely wonderful, UNTIL this morning. I’m not like the typical person; I don’t hate Mondays and I don’t look forward to Fridays. I guess you can say I don’t hate my job. I woke this morning and did what I always do; I checked the forecast, in order to prepare a proper outfit. (Just kidding! The weather in Southern California is always great!)

     My morning ritual is basically the same each day; I jog a few miles to the summit of the Verdugo Mountains. Luckily, I always seem to reach the peak just before sunrise. There is no better way to start the day! Once I receive a sufficient amount of solar energy, I head east, towards the local food bank. I’ve been blessed by my lord and savior and it is only right for me to return the favor by helping out the needy.

     I’m sorry; I definitely confused my morning ritual with someone else’s. I get ready, hop in the car, and hit the highway (I apologize to my fellow Californians; I meant to say freeway!) with my head on a swivel, watching for cops, as I speed my way down Interstate 5! (I don’t know why I thought I was a jogger!)

     The day began like any other, until I reached for a shirt. I don’t know if there are real superheroes in the world, but I definitely have superpowers. Unfortunately for me, it’s a gift and a curse. No matter where I am, I can spot any trespassing insect.

     Utilizing my hyper-sensitive peripheral vision, I noticed a creepy crawler walking up the wall. Although the lighting wasn’t optimal, I had no trouble spotting the intruder, since the closet walls are white.

     I moved in closer, in order to identify the trespasser; a brown spider. I’m not a native of Southern California, nor am I a herpetologist or one who studies arachnology, so there was no way for me to determine if this was a full-grown arachnid or an up-and-coming killer. (FYI: Herpetologists are not people who have sex with those infected with Herpes in order to understand the disease. People who have sex with those infected with Herpes in order to study the disease are sick!)

     I know I should have simply asked “god” to forgive me my trespasses as I forgive this spider who trespasses against me, but I’m an atheist, so I know there is no “god” to assist in these circumstances. Furthermore, I am a certified “spider serial killer.” I see a spider, I kill a spider. (There was one recent incident where I allowed a spider to live, but that was outdoors. Initially, I wanted to kill “god’s” eight-legged creation!)

     Once I assessed the situation, I was certain that this spider deserved to die. (To avoid any confusion, any spider located inside of my living space deserves to die a horrible death!) I grabbed my Adidas slippers and prepared to deliver the death-blow. (Ironically, all I could think was, “Just Do It!”)

     That’s when the most unimaginable thing happened. The Mother-F-ing spider jumped from his perched position, halfway up the wall, onto the carpet.

     I couldn’t freaking believe it!

     I know what you are thinking, “What’s the big deal?”

     I’ll tell you what the big deal is. The dumbass spider, a known killer, was brown. My freaking dumbass carpet, chosen by my landlord who is clearly trying to kill me since she apparently never got over the East coast West coast rap beef, is the same exact brown. Coincidence? I think not; I WAS DEAD!

     All I could do was channel my inner Nancy Kerrigan and yell out, “WHY ME! WHY ME!”

     Seriously, what the hell just happened? We’re not even in Los Angeles so why the heck did this spider decide to turn into Blake Griffin?

     I did all that I could to locate this amazing half-spider /half-chameleon, part-time dunk champion, but there was nothing I could do other than to come to grips with the fact that this trespasser was preparing to launch a nighttime attack, later that evening.

     Defeated, I prepared to leave the house, never thinking about the safety of my cousin, who was asleep in the other room. The way I saw it, “better him than me!”

     Just when I thought I was a dead man walking, the idiot spider made a fatal mistake. She (I might as well make this villain a woman!) crawled up the wall. There was no hesitation, this time. I attacked with deadly force, catching the spider on the left temple. (Yeah, I’m a spider killing ninja assassin!) The spider died on impact, and I was free to live another day.

     I was victorious on this occasion, but I am prepared to do battle once again. If I don’t survive, know that I fought with everything I had.

     My only reservation when choosing this apartment was the carpet, but I could never have imagined how much the floor-covering would negatively impact my life; I now know what lies beneath. Don’t make the same mistake I made; brown carpets are certified deathtraps! (No, the drapes do not match the carpet. We are men and we do not have drapes!) It’s definitely time for a change. Does anyone know which color best works against spider-chameleons? (While you think, I’m about to call eight-hundred, five, eight, eight, two, three, hundred, Empire, TODAY!)

     From this day forth, getting a good night sleep is completely out of the question. I’m sure most people are familiar with the UPS ads, in which potential customers are asked, “what can Brown do for you.” As of this morning, not a goddam thing!

GOVGRID SET A BROWN CARPET ROUGHBE CAREFUL!

@PeteTeix617

Just When I Thought I Was Out, They Pull Me Back In

I came out about two years ago. At first, I didn’t want to come out, but I finally gained the courage to be an example to any young child who considers himself or herself to be “different.” It’s not what you think; I’m not talking about THE “coming out!” It was scary, but I finally admitted to myself, and to the world, that I was an atheist. (I’m just kidding about being scared!)

Discovering the truth about the entire world’s many faiths is an extremely freeing experience. I especially enjoy poking fun at those who honestly believe their specific myth to be true. For example, here is my Easter-related Facebook post:

     “Congrats to everyone who made it through the entire 40 days of sacrifice! Now that Easter is here and Lent is over, I can go back to coveting all the things that I desire; especially some of these wives! (I’ll never give that up again!)”     

Unfortunately for me, I didn’t get the opportunity to choose my religious beliefs; like most people around the world, I was forced by my parents to join their faith. My forehead was doused with “holy water” and I became a Catholic. It didn’t take long for me to begin doubting many of the traditions, but I did was I was told. (Thankfully, our neighborhood wasn’t a target area for the Church’s pious-pedophiles, so I was never asked to “scrape my knees up for the lord!”)

At the age of twelve, I was given the power to either choose to attend “god’s house of boy-rape” or stay home and watch cartoons on the USA network. It’s obvious I didn’t lose any sleep over this “major dilemma!”

Missing Sunday mass turned out to be the gateway-drug to my atheism. Once I began to avoid the weekly wash and allowed my mind to get dirty, there was no turning back. I didn’t fear “god” and I wasn’t afraid to push the envelope push the expensive glass vase. (Why would anyone fear a being that doesn’t exist outside of the big picture-free comic book, called the bible!)

***If you are unfamiliar with the phrase, “pushing the expensive glass vase,” read my previous post: What Does That Even Mean!***

     It was almost as if I was a religious slave and a prophet demanded that the Pope let his people go; atheism was my liberty. For days, I ran around the Charles River, yelling, “LIBERTAD! LIBERTAD!” I was finally free!

OR SO I THOUGHT!

Recently, it was brought to my attention that I was not free. Apparently, the Church does not just allow members to leave. There are strict guidelines which must be followed, in order to leave. I heard of “Blood In Blood Out” but Water In Water Out is news to me! I’m not even sure how one goes about getting “watered out!” It looks like I’ll be a Catholic for life; don’t get me wrong, I want to leave the Church, but I’m definitely not willing to drown to death!

EXCOMMUNICATION:  an ecclesiastical censure depriving a person of the rights of church membership.

The information regarding the process is too extensive for me to include in this post, but basically, a Bishop is the lowest level Church official who can grant excommunication. At first, I thought about going through the long process, but then I realized that I don’t want to quit the Church; I want to be thrown out! It is my desire to become the Vatican’s worst offender. (This is a lofty goal, since Hitler and the infinite number of pedophilic-priests failed to lose their memberships in the “god’s organization!”)

For the time being, it appears that I’m stuck with the Church and the Church is stuck with me! Let’s hope I can make this happen!

@PeteTeix617

Writer’s Digest Story

WritersDigest-12737_218x218

     A couple months ago, I decided to submit a short story to Writer’s Digest. There was a 750 word limit and a simple premise: “A man who lives alone sees a set of footprints leading away from his house the morning after a heavy snowfall.”

Here is my submission. (I didn’t win, but that’s ok because I’m good enough, I’m smart enough and dog doggone it, people like me!)   

Rick “Gator” Truman waited for his best friend to climb into the cab of his pickup truck before jumping into the driver’s seat. Bud, the four year old bull-mastiff was given to Huron, South Dakota’s new fire chief by the men in his company.

“If the weatherman is right, we’ll get at least a foot of snow tonight.” Rick said.

“Woof!” Bud responded.

Rick purchased a modest house, on a dead-end street, barely within Huron’s city limits. He enjoys the quiet, but the serenity comes with a major disadvantage; the fire chief was left to plow his long driveway. Rick drove through the sleepy town and pulled into his garage. The warmth of his king-sized solid oak bed was calling him, but one task remained.

“C’mon Bud, let’s get the plow onto the front end so we can get an early start in the morning.” Rick said.

The morning sun invaded every corner of the small bedroom, waking Rick from his nightly hibernation. The moment he opened the room door, Bud rushed in and jumped atop the quilt.

“Get down from there!” Rick ordered.

Bud quickly complied and landed on the ground. “Maybe I’ll try jumping on your bed and see if you like it.” Rick teased.

Bud ran and pawed at the exit to the garage as if he knew what was on his owner’s mind.

“Let’s go move some powder.” Rick said.

The garage door opened and God’s baby powder covered the landscape. Rick began to turn towards his pickup when a strange sight caused him to halt.  {I didn’t include the quotation marks when writing the word “god,” because I wasn’t sure how the publication would react to my atheism!}  

Inexplicably, a set of footprints leading away from his house seemed to have appeared from nowhere.

“Where the heck did those come from?”

Rick walked closer to investigate. The first track began in the middle of the driveway and trailed off into the street. Strangely, the print was clearly made with a pair of department issued work boots. The more startling fact was the shoe size; Rick was the only fireman who wore size eighteen, and his pair remained locked in the cab of the pickup.

“I knew we had ghosts. I can’t wait for the guys at the fire house to hear that I finally found proof.”

Endless jokes about the mysterious tracks filled much of the morning hours.

“C’mon Gator, the footprints are obviously not from a ghost.” Chuck Hose said.

“Ok Mr. Know-it-all, please explain where they came from.” Rick responded.

“The times when you have seen only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you…the Lord said.” Chuck teased.

The room erupted with laughter. Countless conspiracy theories were suggested and Rick planned on debunking all of the legitimate hypotheses.

“I’ll find even more proof. You guys can laugh, but I know there is a ghost on my property.” Rick said.

News travels through Huron faster than a tide rolls in Alabama. Two days elapsed before the fire chief earned a new appointment; Chief Paranormal Specialist. True to his word, Rick investigated every possibility for an explanation to the eerie footprints. There remained only one truth; a ghost walked from the driveway to the road. Rick couldn’t wait to reveal his findings.

“Regardless of what Chuck thinks, it sounds to me like you did some great detective work, Gator.” Kenny Manning said.

“Thanks Kenny.” Rick replied.

Chuck stood from his seat and commented. “Don’t thank him yet!”

“What are you talking about?” Rick asked.

“We have to tell you something.” Chuck continued. “Hey Mike, do you want to do the honors since it was your idea?”

Mike nodded his head and began to explain. “The footprints were just a silly prank.”

Visibly disappointed, Rick spoke. “Are you serious?”

“Sorry Gator, but we had to do it.” Mike said.

“It might be me, but that smile on your face says you might not be sorry.” Chuck quipped.

“Nonetheless, we all know how crazy you get about the supernatural, so we couldn’t turn down this opportunity. Once the snow stopped, we jumped into old Ladder 13 and made the extensive excursion to your property. I hopped into the bucket and Chuck extended the ladder out to the middle of your driveway. I’m sure you can piece together the rest of the story, Sherlock.” Mike said.

“That doesn’t explain the size of the footprints.” Rick challenged.

“Oh yeah! We ordered another pair.” Mike informed.

“You can keep them for being such a good sport.” Chuck added.

“I’ll get my revenge!” Rick threatened.

[THE END]

@PeteTeix617