DISCLAIMER: Brak, his folks, and Zorak are property of their rightful
owners. Yeah, buddy.
* * * * * * * * * *
*It is a very American kitchen table in their very American house that Brak and his parents sit around eating KFC.*
Brak: *munch munch* HOO BOY, I tell you, if I had wings, I'd deep fry 'em and then eat myself! Boy oh boy do I love fried wings. *munch*
Dad: Mother, the boy's rambling again.
Mom: *ignores him* Now Brak, you mustn't eat so fast, you could choke!
Brak: But MOM, chicken's so good. I CAN'T eat slow, otherwise it might walk off my plate!
Dad: Son, did I ever tell you the story of my Uncle Gina?
Mom: Oh, dear, don't tell that story while we're eating.
Brak: What story of Uncle Gina, Dad?
Mom: Don't tell it.
Dad: No, I think I will, it teaches and important lesson. *clears his throat* Once upon a time in a far land Uncle Gina owned a beaver farm.
Brak: OO! OO! What's a beaver farm?
Dad: It's where you grow the beavers you drink in Beaver Juice.
Brak: WOW! Really? I love Beaver Juice!! I think I like Beaver Juice as much as I like fried chicken! I tell you, if I ever see a beaver in the wild I think I will just suck him dry, boy that would just make my day.
Dad: That's the spirit, son. Now, though he was skilled in beaver-handling ways, Uncle Gina made a terrible mistake one Christmas morning. He-
Mom: Dear, please! Save it for dessert!
Brak: What happened, Dad? I wanna know!
Dad: *looks to Mom* He wants to know, mother.
Mom: Well, he can learn some patience then.
Dad: *in a dry silence, stares at Mom, who glares back at him*
Brak: DAD!
Dad: *Glances back to Brak* I'm sorry, I will have to tell you later. Your mother's got a stick far up her ass right now.
Mom: *smiles a nasty grin* And you're sleeping on the porch tonight.
Dad: BABY! Don't take things the wrong way-
Brak: Hey! I just thought of something! If you named me "Karb", that'd be "Brak" backwards! Whoa nelly, Karb, that's a funny name! *starts laughing*
*Zorak hops on in*
Zorak: I SMELL CHICKEN! *enthusiastically reaches into the KFC bucket and pulls out a drumstick*
Mom: Why, hello Zorak!
Zorak: Kiss me where the sun don't shine, lady.
Dad: *sarcastically* It's always a joy to see you, Zorak.
Brak: Hey Zorak, do you like chicken too?
Zorak: Stop talking to me.
Brak: Mmm. . .I think "chicken" 's my FAVORITE word.
Zorak: Figures, one should like what they are. *snickers*
Brak: Go on, Zorak, say "Chicken".
Zorak: Chicken.
Brak: Mmm. . .
Zorak: Chicken.
Brak: Mmm. . .that feels good to hear. Pleasant thoughts. . .
Dad: *blinks* Brak, I thought your favorite word was "tonsillectomy".
Brak: Mmm . . . that sounds pretty good too.
Zorak: You're a loser.
Brak: OO! Say that to me tomorrow after you've slept on it, and I KNOW you'll have changed your mind, buddy.
Zorak: Yeah, right. *looks to Mom* Hey, I'm taking more chicken.
Mom: Help yourself.
Zorak: Really? Sounds good. *picks up the bucket*
Brak: Hey! I was eating out of that!
Zorak: I'm helping myself to the entire stash of remaining chicken. Later, folks. *walks off cackling*
Brak: No! I wanted to keep the bucket! He was going to be my new best friend- I would name him Furgus and dress him in military clothes. After school and on Saturday afternoons we would go to the drugstore and share a Raspberry Coke. If the jukebox had any good tunes, we'd pay the nickel and get up and dance. He was going to be the best man at my wedding! But now you've stolen him away from me. . .*tears up* ZORAK, YOU SLUT!
Dad: Aw, stop moaning. Don't you have homework to do?
Mom: Oh! Who wants some Watermelon pie? I picked it up at the grocery store this morning.
Brak: Watermelon pie? That sounds peachy! No, wait, that sounds watermelony! Yeah BUDDY!
THE END.
* * * * * * * * * *
*It is a very American kitchen table in their very American house that Brak and his parents sit around eating KFC.*
Brak: *munch munch* HOO BOY, I tell you, if I had wings, I'd deep fry 'em and then eat myself! Boy oh boy do I love fried wings. *munch*
Dad: Mother, the boy's rambling again.
Mom: *ignores him* Now Brak, you mustn't eat so fast, you could choke!
Brak: But MOM, chicken's so good. I CAN'T eat slow, otherwise it might walk off my plate!
Dad: Son, did I ever tell you the story of my Uncle Gina?
Mom: Oh, dear, don't tell that story while we're eating.
Brak: What story of Uncle Gina, Dad?
Mom: Don't tell it.
Dad: No, I think I will, it teaches and important lesson. *clears his throat* Once upon a time in a far land Uncle Gina owned a beaver farm.
Brak: OO! OO! What's a beaver farm?
Dad: It's where you grow the beavers you drink in Beaver Juice.
Brak: WOW! Really? I love Beaver Juice!! I think I like Beaver Juice as much as I like fried chicken! I tell you, if I ever see a beaver in the wild I think I will just suck him dry, boy that would just make my day.
Dad: That's the spirit, son. Now, though he was skilled in beaver-handling ways, Uncle Gina made a terrible mistake one Christmas morning. He-
Mom: Dear, please! Save it for dessert!
Brak: What happened, Dad? I wanna know!
Dad: *looks to Mom* He wants to know, mother.
Mom: Well, he can learn some patience then.
Dad: *in a dry silence, stares at Mom, who glares back at him*
Brak: DAD!
Dad: *Glances back to Brak* I'm sorry, I will have to tell you later. Your mother's got a stick far up her ass right now.
Mom: *smiles a nasty grin* And you're sleeping on the porch tonight.
Dad: BABY! Don't take things the wrong way-
Brak: Hey! I just thought of something! If you named me "Karb", that'd be "Brak" backwards! Whoa nelly, Karb, that's a funny name! *starts laughing*
*Zorak hops on in*
Zorak: I SMELL CHICKEN! *enthusiastically reaches into the KFC bucket and pulls out a drumstick*
Mom: Why, hello Zorak!
Zorak: Kiss me where the sun don't shine, lady.
Dad: *sarcastically* It's always a joy to see you, Zorak.
Brak: Hey Zorak, do you like chicken too?
Zorak: Stop talking to me.
Brak: Mmm. . .I think "chicken" 's my FAVORITE word.
Zorak: Figures, one should like what they are. *snickers*
Brak: Go on, Zorak, say "Chicken".
Zorak: Chicken.
Brak: Mmm. . .
Zorak: Chicken.
Brak: Mmm. . .that feels good to hear. Pleasant thoughts. . .
Dad: *blinks* Brak, I thought your favorite word was "tonsillectomy".
Brak: Mmm . . . that sounds pretty good too.
Zorak: You're a loser.
Brak: OO! Say that to me tomorrow after you've slept on it, and I KNOW you'll have changed your mind, buddy.
Zorak: Yeah, right. *looks to Mom* Hey, I'm taking more chicken.
Mom: Help yourself.
Zorak: Really? Sounds good. *picks up the bucket*
Brak: Hey! I was eating out of that!
Zorak: I'm helping myself to the entire stash of remaining chicken. Later, folks. *walks off cackling*
Brak: No! I wanted to keep the bucket! He was going to be my new best friend- I would name him Furgus and dress him in military clothes. After school and on Saturday afternoons we would go to the drugstore and share a Raspberry Coke. If the jukebox had any good tunes, we'd pay the nickel and get up and dance. He was going to be the best man at my wedding! But now you've stolen him away from me. . .*tears up* ZORAK, YOU SLUT!
Dad: Aw, stop moaning. Don't you have homework to do?
Mom: Oh! Who wants some Watermelon pie? I picked it up at the grocery store this morning.
Brak: Watermelon pie? That sounds peachy! No, wait, that sounds watermelony! Yeah BUDDY!
THE END.