Meet Willem shits (part v?)

“Damn it Dad! When you spend six years in a French whorehouse as I have, you can smell shit from a mile away! And YOU, sir, are full of SHIT!” Darla yelled to her father.

“Darla, please,” Mr. Shitz responded, “I’m wearing adult diapers now. I assure you, there’s not an ounce of shit in me.”

“Well you can’t spend your remaining days toiling away in your study!”

William stood up from behind his desk and shoveled ice into a glass. He poured himself a tall drink of Jack Daniel’s whiskey. “Are you sure that’s a good idea in your condition?” Darla asked.

“Goddamnit Darla, can you stop pestering this dying man?!” he snapped.

This was the first time Darla heard her father drop his high-class pretensions. “So there’s a man underneath that mustache and ascot after all,” she said.

“Fuck you,” William replied as he pounded the whiskey. “I have nothing to be ashamed of. I raised you and I built a billion dollar company. Now leave me be.”

Darla laughed and stood up. “I’m home now,” she said, “you’re gonna have to face me eventually. Or else I will haunt you till your dying day.”

She stormed out of the study. Moments later, I walked in to find Mr. Shitz blind drunk. “Damn it, Jim, I can’t handle this right now,” he said to me.

“Yes sir, I understand,” I said. “Mind if I have a drink?”

He nodded.

I took a sip of the stout liquid and wondered how humans could stomach the stuff. “Sir,” I wondered aloud, “can you tell me about your wife?”

William swiveled his chair, back facing me. “What can I tell you about her that you don’t already know?” he asked.

“Well,” I continued, “I know that you loved her. Doesn’t that extend to your offspring as well? Especially since she’s a continuation of you and your wife?”

William swiveled back around. “Are you some kind of fucking moron?” he asked.

“In your ways, yes,” I said as I downed the whiskey.

William laughed. “Darla and me have an understanding,” he said, “care for another drink?”

“Please.”

The conversation trailed off after that. William eventually passed out on his leather-bound sofa in the study. But being new to this intoxicating experience, I ventured out to the garden, carrying the bottle with me.

The pond was the most beautiful spot. As dusk started to settle, katydids and frogs began their nightly symphonies. Across the way, I saw Darla lighting a cigarette.

I turned my head when she looked my way. I focused on the bottle as I pretended not to notice her. Then moments passed and she was out of sight.

The sun finally sunk below the horizon and the moonlight peered through the clouds. I thought I was alone.

“Mind if I have a swig?” a voice from behind me asked.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Meet William shits (part iv)

Who am I, this mortal shell Jim Grey?

Didst I fly too close to the flame? Did I sear off my wings and tumble to this providence of flesh and sin?

“Hear me now o Heaven!” I cried out, “must I die with the blood of my veins?”

But reprieve was delivered from upon high; “be a good servant, but not for thy sake.”

Yet a servant is nothing more than a slave; and I’m a slave by the Grace of heaven.

***

I was no more free than Mr. Shitz was free from impending death. “What happens when I die?” he asked.

“I am no more an expert on death than you are on life.”

“Is that the meaning of your visit Jim Grey? To give me one more shot at life?”

“Perhaps.”

But how could I deliver something that I don’t possess?

Now enough about me….

***

The helicopter landed on the estate lawn. Archibald extended his hand to help Ms. Shitz deboard the craft. “How delightful it is to see you again!” he told her as they strolled across the grass and into the foreroom.

“Tell me, Archie,” Darla said, “how bad is it?”

“Your father is fine right now,” he replied, “but in time, his health will deteriorate. He will lose all control of his faculties. Piss and shit will flow out of him continuously before his bowels fall out of his asshole at the moment of death. I can’t think of a worse way to go. He would be better off ending it now rather than remain cognizant as his dignity melts away.”

“How horrible!” Darla bawled as she buried her head into Archibald’s chest.

“Yes,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her, “but you mustn’t say anything about it when you see him. He’s still processing his ass cancer diagnosis.”

“I understand,” she said while wiping away tears. “He’s always been a stubborn man. This will take time.”

“Of course,” Archibald replied as he offered her a brandy. “How was your stay in France?”

“Absolute dogshit!” Darla exclaimed. “They’re a bunch of chain-smoking, wino bastards! And the world thinks the US is racist?! Try spending 15 minutes at a Parisian bus stop! Jesus fucking Christ!”

I wandered in through the kitchen door bearing a gift. A rose for you,” I offered Ms. Darla Shitz, “I’m Jim Grey. Welcome home.”

Nothing across all heavens, from the seas of Aquila to the moons of Indus, prepared me for the sight I saw; a woman, whose beauty rivaled that of Artemis.

“This is our new gardener, Ms. Shitz,” Archibald said. “He’s an acquaintance of your father.”

“Thank you, Mr. Grey,” Ms. Shitz spoke as she placed her hand into mine, “it’s a pleasure to meet you. Now, please excuse me. I must be meeting with my father.”

“Of course,” I said. I watched her gracefully gather herself as though there wasn’t a storm raging inside of her.

There too was a quiet storm gathering within me. What was it about Darla Shitz that promoted such passion?

Why was heaven hellbent on its temptations?

TO BE CONTINUED…

I may never…

I may never see the seven wonders

I may never sail the open sea

I may never dance beneath the stars

I may never fly the skies of Mars

I may never touch the snows of Kilimanjaro

I may never taste the wine of Prosecco

I may never float the canals of Venice

I may never have a gigantic penis

I may never cross the River Jordan

I may never see a naked woman

But of all the things I may never be….

At least I don’t watch Loki