I think that it’s finally time to share this with the world. (Plus I really have nothing to say, but feel bad about neglecting this blog.)
Back at the end of eighth grade, Josh wrote several installments of a Soap Operature* he titled Deadly Illusions.
I randomly remembered that is existed today and went back to see if I could find it. You are in luck, dear readers, because I did!
So, please enjoy installment one of Deadly Illusions, written by a thirteen year old Josh. In it, you will find humor revolving around rape, domestic abuse, and violence. So in short, he hasn’t changed a bit! (Although in it’s original form, Josh starred all the bad words, “F*ck”, etc. I guess that while domestic abuse was acceptable, cursing was not. I unedited them for your reading pleasure.)
May 9, 2005
As Terry got ready for the day’s work, she reflected upon all she had accomplished. A great husband, 2 sons and a daughter. I’m also climbing the corporate ladder to more money and a great view in my office, complete with minibar, air conditioning, leather couch, intercom, doorbell, putting green, widescreen plasma TV, endless selection of movies, and a little basket ball hoop to shoot paper balls in. Wow. I’m great. Her thoughts were interrupted when her husband walked in the room.
“Two sons?”, Klein, her husband, said as he walked in. “I thought we only had one.”
Oh shit, Terry thought. Was I really thinking out loud?
“Well, I can’t forget the dog right?” One smart cookie you are Terry, thought Terry, in third person, I dug myself out of that one.
“We don’t have a dog.”
Buddha! I can’t get ANYTHING past this fucker! “I didn’t mean that dog…” Terry said as voluptuously as possible while pointing to his… you know… package.
“You mean there is a dog in here! FedEx just dropped it off!”
“Oh forget it,” Terry said as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. But she wasn’t lying. She had two sons. One’s name was Monroe, and he was off at college. Her second son was standing right in front of her, eagerly opening his FedEx package believing there was a live dog inside. At least he will never find out.
Sweet! A puppy is in here! Klein thought as he ripped away at the packaging tape. When he finally opened the box he discovered a single envelope. It was from a man name Henry. How anti-climatic. Who the hell FedEx’s a letter? After Klein opened the letter, he took a few minutes to read it, even though it was only a sentence, but Buddha knows that Klein isn’t that smart of a guy.
“WHERE THE HELL IS MY PUPPY BITCH!” Klein screamed after he read the letter. With great dramatization and oomph, he slapped her across the face. Then he shoved her onto the ground and kicked her in the stomach. “I TOLD YOU NOT TO LIE TO ME! DO YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU LIE? YOU GET FUCKED OVER!”
“I’m sorry! Please stop! Your ruining my hair!” Terry apologized.
In a fit of tears, Klein ran out of the room, sobbing, “I really wanted my puppy!”
Dumb ass. At least now, I might have a miscarriage. He’ll never know that I’m carrying the milk man’s baby.
In Klein’s fit of anger and sadness, he left the letter behind, lying on the floor. In the letter it said,
Klein, I am your father and I will tell you everything about your wife… or your mother.
TO BE CONTINUED…
*Soap Operature, noun. A written soap opera. Literally, opera + literature.