A National Freakin’ Disaster
(scene, 11PM, just returned to the couch to watch another episode of Prison Break with Guy on the Couch. The Daver watches Deep Space Throat Nine Downstairs)
Aunt Becky: “FUCK, I just knocked over my Diet Coke.”
The Guy On My Couch: “I got the paper towels.”
Aunt Becky: “No, I mean, like FUCK!”
The Guy On My Couch: “Um…okay?”
Aunt Becky: “There should be a law against this.”
The Guy On My Couch: “…”
Aunt Becky: “No Diet Coke shall spill after 11PM.”
The Guy On My Couch: “…”
Aunt Becky: “Why are you staring at me like Michael Scofield? YOU’RE NOT IN PRISON. YOU DON’T NEED TO BREAK OUT OF IT.”
The Guy On My Couch: “…”
Aunt Becky: “What are you waiting for? CALL FEMA! CALL THE NATIONAL GUARD! CALL AARP! CALL NAACP! CALL THE BLACK PANTHERS! This is a fucking emergency situation.”
The Guy On My Couch: “…”
Aunt Becky: “And tell them to bring Funyons. I’m hungry.”
The Guy On My Couch: “…”
Aunt Becky: “I’d be okay with Chex Mix too. Just, you know, if Doctors Without Borders is out of Funyons.”
The Guy On My Couch: “…”
Aunt Becky: “THIS IS A DIRE EMERGENCY.”
The Guy On My Couch: (rolls eyes)
Aunt Becky: “Can you stop giving me the Michael Scofield stare, PLEASE? To circumvent your next question, I do not have a fake-gold crucifix with which to help you turn off the electricity.”
The Guy On My Couch: “I think there’s more footage of Michael Scofield staring out the window than any other scene in the show.”
Aunt Becky: “It’s signifying that he’s working something out. You know, how in House, MD (pauses for a moment of silence), they’re always walking with House and talking as a way to show plot progression?”
The Guy On My Couch: “…”
Aunt Becky: “If he just was all, ‘I need a 12×14 cardboard box, a blue felt-tipped pen, and a pink starburst,’ it’d be all, ‘where the shitballs did that come from?’ Looking out the window gives his plans some credence.”
The Guy On My Couch: “What would Scofield use those for?”
Aunt Becky: “The box would be to send a message via carrier pigeon and the blue pen would be a red herring – the pink starburst? That’d be because they’re delicious.”
The Guy On My Couch: (laughs)
Gimmie the Pink Starburst and NO ONE GETS HURT!
Aunt Becky: “Well, they ARE. And where the shit is AAA to clean up my Diet Coke? You DID call them, right? You DID stress that this was a NATIONAL EMERGENCY, RIGHT?”
The Guy On My Couch: “…”
Aunt Becky: “Maybe the IRS can help.”
The Guy On My Couch: “What, are they gonna give you a tax break or something?”
Aunt Becky: “You never do know…” (gazes into the distance)
(several minutes elapse)
Aunt Becky: “If I made a baby with Wentworth Miller, would it cry in a British accent?
The Guy On My Couch: “You’re fired.”
Aunt Becky: “So are you. Where the fuck is the Red Cross?”
I agree…it’s a fucking emergency when your diet coke spills.
As for the rest of it, thanks for the laughs.
I love you, Aunt Becky.
That is all. 🙂
Diet Coke spillage is an utter catastrophe. Diet sodas are my main vice. I fear that you’ve left out calling the EPA about this disaster, though.
Code Brown Level one Aunt Becky’s house Code Brown Level one Aunt Becky’s house