Child Splay

While Sparky MacMillan is away on a well-deserved vacation, his son Billy takes over the satiric ramblings of THE FLEHMEN RESPONSE.

Hi there!

Here’s what happened to me today: Mommy wanted to know who broke the antique vase and I said “Not me!” Then, I imagined my dead grandpa looking down at us from a cloud in Heaven. After that, I came up with some clever childish puns (“Want to go to the beach? Shore!”). Later, mom wanted me to go tell Dolly it’s time to take a bath, so I went the long way, stopping off to do a lot of stuff and then …

Um…

Is my dad gone yet? He was watching me over my shoulder as I type this, but I think he’s in the kitchen getting a beer now. Good! You gotta help me!!! He’s a slave driver!! He makes me do his work for him and he doesn’t pay me squat! Apple sweatshop workers earn more than I do! I haven’t had a decent meal in weeks; he only feeds me rancid government surplus cheese! He makes me wear these nasty clothes he stole off a homeless guy, he won’t let me watch anything on TV but the crappy shows on TLC and E! and he sometimes dresses me up as one of the My Little Ponies and …

HEY, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, YOU LITTLE SNOT?!?!?!

What? Oh, daddy, I was just fooling around.

I’LL TEACH YOU TO FOOL AROUND, CRAPMUFFIN! C’MERE!!!

No! No, daddy! Not the salad tongs!!!!

I BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD, I CAN TAKE YOU OUT!!!

I hate you! You’re not my father!

DAMN RIGHT! YOU WERE ADOPTED, YOU FESTERING MONKEY COLON!

I’ll kill you in your sleep!

SHUT UP AND BARK LIKE THE DOG YOU ARE!!!!

Ow! Uhhhhh, uhhhh, a-rooooooooooo!!! Ruff! Ruff! A-rooooo!!!!!!

NOW, GET YOUR LITTLE TUCHAS OUT TO THE SHED AND FETCH ME MY VICE GRIP AND DUCT TAPE!

No! I’ll be good! I promise!

The above was a dramatic portrayal of what can happen when a creative mind goes bad.

Now, I don’t have a child to exploit, nor would I had I (not that forced child labor doesn’t have a role to play in our society) but there are those who would coerce their offspring into doing their dirty work for them. Right or wrong, good or bad, who’s to say really. I just feel the need to poke and prod and shine the light of truth upon the dark crevice that is ignorance. Call me a sort of thinking man’s proctologist, if you will.

But not to my face, please.

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