My brother Luke and my "cousin" (not really) Marvin stood next to each other. My other fake cousin Ellie sat next to me on the sofa. "We made a slap bet, remember?" Luke told Marvin. "I explained the rules."
I grimaced. A few days ago, my dad had finished telling the inexplicably long tale of how he met my mom, which had included a "slap bet" in which Uncle Marshall got to slap Uncle Barney eight times whenever he wanted. It lasted seven years.
"Alright," I said stepping forward. "As slap bet commissioner, I'm going to give Marvin the same choice his mom gave Uncle Barney during the infamous Slap Bet of 2006 through 2013. Marvin-"
"Who mentioned the slap bet?" asked Uncle Marshall, peeking his head around the corner (which was quite a feat, seeing as he was taller than the doorframe). "All of you, get in here!" Ellie called. Our parents came running in.
"What is it?" asked Dad in confusion. Ellie smiled wickedly, a trait she'd inherited from her father. "You all want to see this."
I cleared my throat. "Now, as I was saying," I continued. "Marvin, you made a bet with Luke that you could convince Aunt Robin that her apartment was haunted." I smiled. "Luke, however annoying he may be, does know that Aunt Robin is two things: as much of a skeptic as you could possibly be, and smarter than Marvin by, well, by a lot. So, of course, Marvin lost pathetically, his family name was trampled upon, his life savings surrendered to the savage pirates of-"
"Alright, we get it," Marvin grumbled. "Moving on."
"Anyways, back in 2006, Uncle Marshall won a slap bet against Uncle Barney. Do either of you deny it?" I asked, leaning towards them both with one eyebrow raised. Barney swore but shook his head along with Marshall.
"And Aunt Lily," I moved towards the woman, who was smiling smugly. "You, as the slap bet commissioner, gave Barney two options: he could either be slapped ten times by Marshall then and there, or slapped five times whenever. Is that correct?"
Lily giggled. "Yes, it is." Barney had his face in his hands, while dad chuckled, Aunt Robin smiled fondly at Barney (oh crud... was there still a spark there? Okay, that can be addressed later), and Marshall looked like a proud father. Not of Marvin, obviously, but of the wonderful legends that he created through the Slap Bet.
"And now, Marvin Wait For It Eriksen, I offer you the same choice. Ten slaps now or five whenever?"
"Ten now!" cried Uncle Barney desperately. "Ten now! Save yourself, don't make the same mistake I did!"
Marvin loked incredibly uncomfortable, but was oblivious to Barney's cries. "F-five whenever," he said uncertainly.
If I had a camera, I would have zoomed in on Uncle Barney's face as he said "and so it begins."