How The Hell Did I Survive?

Sunday, August 13, 2006

Sometimes having a palatial mansion sucks.

What? What's that? You don't want to hear about my fabulous 4 day hiatus from WoW, the Sites, Podcasts and everything the f*ck else in my life? You wish I wouldn't get all Angry Piper and put my personal life out on display like anyone cares whate color my underwear is???

You just sit right there and take what's coming to you, mister/missy. I've been providing your lazy ass with entertainment for countless weeks, you give me one hot second here... plus, my law family is very funny.

The Characters:

Law Mother: No, not the original Momma Murk, this is the Mother of the Mrs. She's at the heart of this tale. She likes to throw parties to get gifts AND she loves to freak out and kill people while planning them.

Ernie: This is the lovable Murk Law Brother who married in by mistake and can't get out. So far Law Mother has killed 15 Ernies and we keep having the Diry Tleilaxu make gholas of him to replace the dead and broken ones at her feet.

Law Kids: Just a rabble of kids not realated by blood. Two of them, Shout and Pout, are son and daughter of the Ernie Series of gholas.

Law Sister T: Mother of Shout and Pout. Usually on the side of Law Mother and laughs after everything anyone says or does, no matter how inappropriate the situation (like in CHURCH!).

Law Sister M: Young. Unmarried. Complete lushy. I have the numbers. Email for further details and payment instruction.

Mrs. Dr. Murk: My usually loveable and jovial wife, recently driven insane by Law Mother, Law Sisters and Law Kids. I now sleep on the roof.

Law Father: He doesn't do much except quote himself and remind us of the length that people should go to for their family.

Okay, the stage is set. We begin on a gentle morning in June when Mrs. says to Murk, that old cad, that Ernie and Law T are coming up this summer for Law Brother ASSHOLE'S wedding party... what? I never intruduced him? Sorry.

Law Brother T: Whiny, arrogant little bitch boy who's pleasures include making everyone else miserable, pointing out obvious flaws, critiquing the dumbest things, never shutting up, and easting sh*t with Heinz Ketchup on it.

So, there's a wedding to the New Law Sister. Don't worry about her. She's like 12 and doesn't speak a word of English and thinks Law Borther T is Donald Trump's nephew. Everyone in Law Family Town is going to be showing up and Law mother has graciously offered to put them up at the Palatial Murk Estates... without asking. So Murk, that's me, all ten hot inches of me, finds this out about two months ago. Now Ernie and Sissy T have two Law Kids, Shout and Pout, mentioned above. They are so named due to their best traits. One shouts and one pouts. Oh, and they both still sh*t themselves. I know little kids and old people do it, but I don't want to see it, hear it smell it touch it taste it or have it anywhere near food or my pool.

They're coming, I'm told. Oh joy! What a fate that I should spend my idle summer days picking poo out of my salad and listening to the daily hysterics of Law Mother planning the ultimate money grab of a wedding at her own house without the help of caterers. Bu, who will do the work???

Hmmmm. Perhaps the Law Sisters and Ernie and Dr. Murk would be so kind as to slave away all the days between now and then in the fruitless endeavor of pleasing a woman who loves her own arse more than she loves any other human being on the plannet and she cannot be pleased unless everyone is working working working working...

Anyways, so this Monday starts with a phone call. Ernie, that swell guy, is coming up early. To stay with me! How thoughtful! Eh. He's okay. Fine. Maybe I can put him to work fixing up the guest house.

Naw. See, Ernie's got a bad back and people having been taking dumps on this guy since he was like 16 and he's tired and about to have his F*CKING SKULL mashed in by Law Mother because... he's the new whipping boy. I feel pity and just try to keep him amused.

The Sword od Damocles continues to dangle, but it turns out that Shout and Pout don't do much shouting and pouting at the Palatial Mansion. Who can blame them? No one is yelling at them, spitting in their cereal or using them as paws in some ancient psychological war at my place. So, Ernie and I make it to Thursday and then get D-RUNK. The 'D' is seperate because you'll have to pay for the details.

As we wallow in our own filth after an 8 hour bender, we receive what seems to be an innocous message around 10 p.m. "You will pay! Love, Law Mother."

Now Ernie's done hard labor and so have I and setting up tents and chairs and crap on a mild weekend isn't something to worry us. We thinkwe're safe. We slur our drunken good nights and prepare for the morrow.

What ensues over the next three days is a combination of events. There's a wedding wrapped in a titanic Ernie Killing Spree (he took down a few of Law Mother's Fish Speaker guards before she rolled on him), covered in threats and inuendo, and with me, innocent Dr. of Love, as the impromptu replacement for the now freshly deceased Ernie, may God free him from this place so that he can be little again. So I get whipped and whipped and whipped. And all the Law Sisters and Law Family have at me verbally for a day and a half... wait. Let me explain the technique.

The Captain can tell you some sweet moves his family has for passive agreesive behavior, but how is this: They tell each other secret things that someone just said about someone else until that person finds out and then they amplify it by adding detail after lurid detail until you blurt something like: "Yeah, well she was going to flip out on someone. Why not me? I could give a flying f*ck." Unfortunately, sometimes you're overheard.

I was overheard. To shield me from Law Mother, bless their souls, and to allow me to cool down, I am taken away by Law Father for a fatherly advice drive and to go clean out the most mold covered fridge in five counties. This is tradition, and they always know where the next moldy fridge is.

What did I do to earn all this? I went to work after helping to set everything up. I have no clue why, but this offended Law Mother.

And so, I was washing this dirty, smelly moldy fridge, when it hit me... I had been away from my real wor (you tarts) for days. I became sad.

Then, I went to bed.

Then the yelling started in earnest. The new Ernie in Law had arrived and Law Mother was busily explaining the intricate set of rules that sons in law of the Mother must obey. He freaked out and ran off with Shouty, Pouty and Sissy T. Law Brother T. was squirting Heinz on everything and asking, "How come this remote doesn't work? It worked last night. I think Murk sat on it. He's fat. I don't like that smell. Who has a dragon I can eat? I want beets. You people are ugly." And... I was 3 hours late.

Luckily, my punishment was mild. I got stuck tending the bar at the wedding. Of course, I had to maintain a delicate balance of appreciating Law Mother's generous liquor offering while not becoming visibly intoxicated, but I've developed a strong immunity to alcohol that is legendary in East Asia.

Then it got weird. I mad everyone's drink a reversi. That's when you mix the whatever they ask for in reverse proportion so that there's a shot of mixer thrown in with their glass of alcohol. People were in a bad way quite quickly, and even Law Mother had a little shine on. Ernie in Law was telling drunken Army stories and before I knew it, the sun had set, and I was being driven home by Mrs with a trunk full of booze and apparently a new level of respect from the neighbors, so to speak. I had bartended my way to freedom.

So, in the aftermath, after cleaning, after nap and so on, I have found that Law Mother has laid one of her particularly cruel punishments on me, just as I thought I was clear...

Everyone had such a good time that she's planning to do it all again for Christmas, with me as the star of the show.

I have Tequilla, Rum or Scotch. Which should I drug and use to kill myself?