On a blisteringly hot day in late August, Lincoln and Ronnie Anne Loud returned to Royal Woods for the first time in months.
It was mid-afternoon and puffy white clouds sailed across the dusty blue sky like ghostly galleons on their way to the far side of the River Styx. The sun blazed from its spot well above the horizon and bathed the huddled town in a latticework of gold and shadows. The athletic field flanking the shuttered high school was dry and brown and the Royal River, which separated Royal Woods from the rolling pine forests to the north, had faded to a feeble trickle between smooth rocks. The residential streets branching off of Main were all empty, kids and parents alike hiding from the heat. Main itself, usually busy, stood largely deserted and the only sound Lincoln could detect was the rattle of window-mounted A/C units.
In the passenger seat, Ronnie Anne sat with her head back and her eyes closed. Her face, the color of warm sand, was tinged red and sweat plastered her black hair to her head. Her light sundress clung to her sticky body, and her knees were spaced widely apart to air out her crotch. Sweat trickled down her chest and disappeared into her cleavage, and Lincoln couldn't tell if it was hot or gross.
Probably a little of both. He and Ronnie Anne had been married for three years and a couple for longer. Like most horny young lovers, they had done it a lot, and Lincoln could confidently say that he didn't particularly relish being covered in her sweat afterwards. You could romanticize your lover's perspiration because it was your lover's, but at the end of the day, it's still salty, nasty skin water.
At the intersection of Main and Elm, the traffic light changed to red and Lincoln eased the car to a stop, swiping his forehead with the back of his hand. He didn't mind his own sweat as much, but that's like saying your poop is better than everyone else's. It's still brown and smelly. His white polo shirt stuck fast to his slick chest and his crotch was damp, his underwear soaked and bunched up and so uncomfortable he could barely focus on driving.
He and Ronnie Anne had been on the road for nearly two days and for most of that time, the A/C was busted. A truck stop mechanic in Nebraska said it was something to do with the cooling coil. I reckon I can get the right part in a week, he said. He didn't spit a wad of brown tobacco into the dirt, but he did in Lincoln's memory.
They were on a tight schedule so waiting in Hemingford Home, Nebraska, or anywhere else, was out of the question. He and Ronnie decided to brave the elements. Unfortunately for them, the Midwest was currently in the grips of the worst heatwave in a hundred years. Even with all the windows rolled down, they roasted like a couple of Thanksgiving turkeys, and their libidos died somewhere around Kansas City. The thought of thrusting, body heat, and sweat made Lincoln tired, and Ronnie Anne bitchy. Every time he glanced over to make sure she hadn't died, she shot him a dirty look. Don't even think about it, lame-o, she said and snapped her legs closed.
The first time, he said, I'm not.
The last time, he said, Fuck your trash ass pussy, bitch.
She glowered and flipped him off.
He flipped her off back.
All of that was behind them, though, because home - 1216 Franklin Avenue, Royals Woods, Michigan, 48067 - was two blocks over, and it had air conditioning.
The light turned green, and Lincoln pulled left onto Elm. Ronnie Anne raked her fingers through her sodden hair and let out a deep breath. "Are we there yet?"
"Almost."
"Next year, tell them you're dead."
Once or twice a year, Lincoln and Ronnie Anne came out from Seattle to visit everyone, usually once around Christmas then again in the summer for the annual Loud House General Family Reunion Edition. Lori, Leni, and the rest of his sisters (Lincoln was too hot and tired to remember their names right now) would come from all over the country each July or August. They would spend a day or two at Mom and Dad's, eating chips, catching up, and talking about old times, then they'd all pack into Lori's SUV and drive upcountry to a cabin on the lake. And by they, Lincoln meant his sisters. He was too busy at the office to take a full week off like the rest of them so he always had to skip the cabin bit. Not that he missed out on anything. He was pretty sure his sisters went up there to get wasted, and they acted like a bunch of fucking clowns when they were twisted. No, thank you.
Part of him was attracted to the idea, however. Cutting loose and hanging out with his buffoon sisters didn't appeal to him very much when they started the tradition three years ago, but now there was a strange allure to it that he could neither ignore nor deny. Earlier in the summer, he turned thirty, and hitting the big 3-0 makes a man think. The years were starting to pile up and, boy, it happened quick. He was getting farther and farther away from his youth and that bothered him. He wore a suit, commuted to work, and lived in the suburbs. He was a workaday schlub and every time he looked up, another year or two had passed.
That happens to everyone, he figured, but knowing that didn't lessen the feeling of loss that perpetually pinched his chest nowadays. He felt like a lost astronaut floating farther and farther away from earth, watching helpless as all hope of safety and salvation receded into the void. He longed for his childhood in a sickly nostalgic way. He used to play football with Lynn, rock out with Luna, groan and Luan's dumb jokes, and have tea partis with Lola.
But not anymore. One, because they were all adults (no tea parties for them) and two because they rarely ever got to see each other. Two or three days a year was hardly enough time for a hi and bye much less reliving the glory days of your youth. Maybe Lincoln was going through an early midlife crisis, but he wanted to be a kid again. Not forever, just for a little while. And nothing would make that happen like hanging out with his sisters and cutting up like a bunch of dumbasses.
But then he remembered how his sisters were when they were drunk and decided against it. If he wanted to feel like a kid again, he'd cuss around Mom and let her yell at him.
The house looked as it always did save for the siding. Mom and Dad had it redone last year, the same color as before. It still looked brand new and seeing it was always a little jarring. Lincoln was used to it looking like shit.
Lori, Leni, and the others were already here, as evidenced by the cars parked up and down the curb. Lori's SUV sat under the shade of an oak tree and Leni's Bently pointed south along Franklin, its shiny paint covered in dents, dings, and scratches because she was a terrible driver. The only car he didn't see was Luna's, which meant she was probably at work.
Last year, Luna and Sam broke up and Luna moved back home with the girl she and Sam adopted. Her name was Allie and she was homeless or something before Sam and Luna took her in. She was a nice kid but strange. At Christmas dinner, she would hide scraps of ham and turkey in her pockets "for later" like she wasn't allowed access to leftovers (she totally was). Old habits die hard, Lincoln thought, but damn, this hard? She'd been with Luna for, like, four years. You'd think she'd get the message after a while.
He cut the engine and glanced over at Ronnie Anne, who'd fallen into a thin and fitful doze. He laid his hand on her knee. "Hey," he whispered, "we're here."
Her eyelids fluttered open and she fixed him with a watery gaze. "Oh. Good."
"Come on," he said and shook her leg, "it's cool inside."
While she sat up and stretched, Lincoln got out and grabbed their bags from the trunk. A harsh, sandpaper breeze scoured his bare skin, and in moments, he was dripping sweat. Ronnie Anne flung her door open and rolled out, almost falling to her knees. "This sucks," she mumbled.
"Tell me about it," Lincoln grunted and sat their bags in the driveway. He slammed the hatch and looked up at the house just as the curtain in the front window fluttered back into place.
Someone was watching them.
Probably Allie. She'd hide somewhere like a jumpy cat then eventually make her way out when she was certain the danger she scented was imaginatiary.
Picking the bags up, Lincoln went up the walk and climbed the steps, Ronnie Anne trailing behind. At the door, he kicked because his hands were full, and a minute later, Mom appeared in a pair of slacks and a blouse. Her face lit up when she saw him and she thrw her arms out.
No, please, it's too hot -
She swept him into a tight hug and his scrawny frame nearly disappeared into her bosom.
- for this.
"I'm so happy to see you," Mom crowed. "How was the drive?"
"Long and hot," Ronnie Anne said.
"This weather is insane," Mom said and flapped her hand like a gay man, "oh, my God, you two look like you're going to melt. Come inside."
Don't mind if I do.
Lincoln crossed the threshold, and a wall of cold air rushed over him, dislodging a groan of almost sexual proportions from his throat. Ronnie Anne brushed past him and threw her head back. "Ahhh, that's the stuff."
Before Lincoln could finish cumming in his pants, loud footsteps pounded down the stairs. Lynn, dressed in jeans and a white tank top, bent forward at the waist to see him, and a big, shit eating grin spread across her freckled face. "Stinkcoln!" she cried.
She came the rest of the way down and Lincoln braced himself for what was to come.
Snatching him up in a headlock, she ground her knuckles into his scalp. Lincoln let out a strangled cry that was more play and less pain, and Lynn tightened her grip. "How ya doing, nerd?"
"I was doing okay."
She pushed him away and raised her fist to Ronnie Anne.
Ronnie Anne raised hers in return.
For a second it looked like they were going to throw down, but then they smiled and fist-bumped like old friends.
Which is exactly what they were. They were both loud, tough, abrasive, and enjoyed picking on white-haired boys named Lincoln. They were basically the same person, except one was white and the other was Hispanic.
There were other differences, but they weren't important.
Except for the sex part.
One-by-one, everyone else came into greet them until the living room was packed with Louds. Lori brought her three year old daughter Lora along and to Lincoln's shock, Luan's stomach was distended. "I'm three months along," she glowed.
Well, that was kind of disappointing...for reasons.
As they always did, Lincoln's sisters formed a huge circle around him, all talking at once, laughing, joking, and jostling for position. Lori, clad in a power suit, stopped prattling only long enough to answer a phone call from someone named "Jonathan"; Leni sported a new dress she designed herself and hugged Lincoln three times; Luna and Luan talked over one another; Lana, Lola, God, so many people. And right in the center of them all was Lincoln Loud feeling like a man being slowly strangled by a noose. Ugh, give me some room, jeez.
Instead, Lori pinched his cheek, Lynn punched his arm, Luan shocked the shit out of him with a joybuzzer, Lana slapped his back, Lucy stared at him with that unsettling gaze ("Staring contest," she said), Lily poked the band of flab around his waist and told him he was getting old. They pushed, shoved, tugged, and pulled, and by the time Dad got home and Mom put dinner on the table, his nerves were shot. Allie, Luna's adopted daughter, sat directly across from him and divided her attention between him and her plate, her little body tensed and rigid, as though she expected him to spring across the table, grab her around the throat, and shake her to death. Luna sat beside her and laughed at something Luan said. On Allie's other side, Dad talked to Ronnie Anne about potato salad, and next to Lincoln, Lana and Lola tried to one up the other with how many men they'd been with since they last saw each other.
"I had sex with at least ten," Lola said haughtily. Something told Lincoln that wasn't true.
"Yeah?" Lana asked. "I did eleven."
"Oh, wait, I forgot about Jim. So that makes eleven."
"I forgot one too. That makes twelve."
You know, as hectic and headache inducing as being around his family could be, Lincoln was happy to be here.
Then Lily batted her eyelids and it all died. "Are you coming with us this year?"
There was only one thing she could be referring to.
"No," he said pointedly.
"Why not?" Lynn asked.
"Yeah," Luan echoed, "you never come."
"You're such a bitch," Lynn said.
"A real pussy," Lana agreed.
"Girls," Dad said, "language."
"It's true," Lola said. "It's like he thinks he's too good for us."
Lincoln sighed. "No, I just don't want to be involved."
"Involved in what?" Ronnie Anne asked, confused.
"Their yearly camping trip," Lincoln said. "They go get smashed and carry on like a bunch of idiots."
"HEY!" his sisters cried as one.
"It's true," Lincoln said and carved a piece of steak from the bone. "They get too wild. I don't have time for that."
Like sharks scenting blood, Lincoln's sisters moved in for the kill. Lynn called him a sissy, Lily aid he was a doody-diaper baby, Lori said he was a fraidy cat. Lincoln's cheeks blushed and he started to say something back, but stopped himself. If wasting half of his teen years on the Ace Savvy 4chan thread taught him anything, it was don't feed the trolls. Reacting to their nonsense would only encourage them to keep doing it.
Then Ronnie Anne joined them and that was just too much. "C'mon, lame-o, don't be a wet blanket."
"You've never seen them drunk." he shot back.
A devious light danced in her eyes. "I think you're just a chicken."
Of all the people in Lincoln's life, Ronnie Anne was the best at getting under his skin. She knew every button to push and exactly the right way to push them to really set him off. Take this, for instance. He hated being called chicken. Absolutely hated it. Growing up with ten rough and tumble sisters, he had a lot to prove as a man and one of them was bravery. To him, being called a coward was worse than being spat on. "I'm not a chicken," he said in a low, dangerous growl, "I just don't want to deal with their crap."
"Bwok, bwok, bwok," Lynn said.
Lincioln's face turned crimson. "I'm not a chicken."
"Yes you are," Lori said and batted her eyelashes. Lora sat on her lap gnawing on a piece of bread, seemingly oblivious to the roast session forming around her. Lori leaned into her ear and, without taking her eyes off of Lincoln, asked, "What is Uncle Lincoln."
"Chicken," Lora piped.
Alright, he could stand being called chicken by a grown adult, but not by someone who still pissed in Disney Princess Pull-Ups. "At least I can wipe my own butt," he grumbled.
Lora's brow lowered in a very Lori-like expression of anger, and she leaned forward, as if challenging him.
"Chicken," Lola said.
"Cluck, cluck," Lana grinned.
Soon the entire table was making poultry sounds. Lola tucked her arms in and flapped her elbows, and everyone did likewise until they were all doing it. It sounded like a henhouse at feeding time. Lincoln took a deep breath and let it out evenly. Now he was mad. His sisters - God love 'em - always did shit like this to him. One time, Lynn started a trend of bopping him on his head every time they passed in the hall. Lori did it, Leni did it, Lola jumped up like Kobe dunking on niggas and did it. When he was thirteen and his voice was changing, they all imitated his cracking, squeaky tone for almost a month, at the end of which he was a twitching, shaking mess.
If he wanted to feel younger, he certainly got his wish: He felt like he was eleven again, and he remembered something that he'd long forgotten.
Being eleven sucked.
When he was eleven, he was a scrawny bitch who got routinely punked by everyone in his life. Chandler punked him, Poppa Wheelie punked him, his sisters punked him, even Ronnie Anne punked him. Every girl he knew was bigger and stronger than him, even Lola and Lana, and no matter what he did, he wound up somehow being the bad guy. Like that time he tried getting his sisters together for a nice family photo and they ran over top of him. Wahhh, Lincoln, how dare you ask me to stop texting Bobby for five seconds. Waaahh, why would you ask me to take the Graucho Marx glasses off? They're who I am. All he wanted was to give Mom and Dad an anniversary present they wouldn't hide in the attic like a dirty little secret, but fuck him, right? Oh, and the time some of his sisters wanted to go to Aloha Beach and the others wanted to go to Dairyland. He got tie breaking vote and both groups kissed his ass in hopes of getting him to vote their way. Yeah, he milked it, but they weren't innocent either and how did that end? With him playing nigger to his sisters all weekend. Carry my bags, Lincoln. Build the fire, Lincoln. Rub my putrescent feet, Stinkcoln.
The worst part of it...the part that really fucking ate at him...was that he couldn't even blame them. It was his fault for being a little fuck bitch.
Well...things had changed since he was a kid. He wasn't a soycuck anymore. He'd show them. He'd show them all.
"Alright, alright!" he called and held up his hand. Everyone fell silent. "Fine, I'll go."
His sisters grinned in triumph. "But I'm going to film you so you can see how stupid you look."
"Alright," Lori said, then turned to Ronnie Anne. "You in?"
Ronnie Anne thought for a moment. "Why not?"
"Ohhh, this sounds so exciting," Mom said. "Can I come along? It'll be just like my college days."
The girls exchanged an uneasy glance. "If you want," Lori said at length. She didn't sound too keen on the idea.
Lincoln didn't like it either, only because he didn't want his mother around these yahoos when they went full retard in their little cabin by the lake. Seeing her daughters twerking, stumbling around, pissing and falling down drunk, strewn around like discard bits of clothing...it would probably kill her.
Or she'd kill them.
Actually, maybe her tagging along wasn't such a bad idea after all…
By the end of dinner, it was settled. Lincoln, his sisters, Mom, and Ronnie Anne would spend the coming weekend on Lake Wakatonka while Dad stayed home with Lora and Allie.
That night, Lincoln and Ronnie Anne lay awake in Lincoln's old bed, the thin blanket pulled to their chests. They were too tired to do it but too wired to sleep, so they talked. "This weekend's gonna be a clown show," he said.
He could practically feel Ronnie Anne rolling her eyes. "You really have a stick up your ass about this."
"Yeah? Tell me that when Lori's drunk and trying suck your tongue out of your mouth."
She snorted. "I seriously doubt that'll happen."
"Okay," Lincoln said. "Go ahead and think that. I know my sisters and when they drink, they get stupid."
"No," Ronnie Anne said, "you're just uptight. Don't know how to have fun."
"Okay."
"Just chill out and try to have a good time. Okay?"
Lincoln nodded in the darkness. "Alright," he said, in a tone that you only use on someone who's dead set on doing something really idiotic. "I will."
Not long after they lapsed into silence, Ronnie Anne's breathing slowed and he was alone in the night. He turned his head and watched his wife sleep, love and annoyance mingling in his breast like water and gasoline. She was so much like his sisters sometimes that he might as well be committing incest. What was it with these Royal Woods girls? They were all jerks, every single one. Ronnie Anne's jerkitude was tolerable, but the rest? Ugh. It was like a curse or something.
Rolling onto his side, he took Ronnie Anne into his arms and a slow, sleepy smile spread across her face. He buried his nose in her hair, took a deep whiff of her fragrant scent, and kissed the back of her neck.
In moments, he was asleep.
The next day, Lincoln, Ronnie Anne, Mom, and his sisters shoved into Lor's SUV and started the three hour journey north on Route 12. The day was warm and bright and by 11am, the temperature readout over the rearview mirror said it was 85 degrees. Lincoln sat in the very back with Ronnie Anne, Lisa, and Lily. Lily whipped out her phone and started taking video of everyone for her TikTok. "Hey, everybody, it's me, Lily. The fam and I are on our way to have a wild weekend."
She pointed the phone at Lisa. Lisa dug a calculator out of her pocket and punched in an equation. "By my calculations, we have a 99.999999 percent chance of getting fuuuuucked up."
In the second row, Lynn cheered. "Fucked up!"
"Fucked up!" Lana cried.
Everyone else picked up the chant and Lincoln rolled his eyes.
"FUCKED UP! FUCKED UP! FUCKED UP!"
In the passenger seat, Mom sang, "Effed up! Effed up!" She bent her hands back and lifted her palms awkwardly to the ceiling like a foreigner trying to copy local customs. "Raise the roof!"
"Aw, Jesus," Lincoln said and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I knew this was going to be retarded."
Ronnie Anne jabbed him in the ribs with her elbows. "LIghten up. You are not going to be a sourpuss this whole weekend."
"I'll only be a sourpuss when dumb shit happens," Lincoln said. "Which...yeah, will probably be the whole weekend."
Soon, the suburbs outlying Royal Woods gave way to rugged and densely forested hills, wide valleys, and rushing rivers that sparkled in the light of the northern sun. An hour from their destination, they stopped at a low-end Sav-a-Lot in a small town with cracked pavement and building shedding paint like strips of dead skin. Mom, Lana, and Ronnie Anne went to the liquor store across the street while everyone else went into the grocery for supplies. Inside, the decor put Lincoln in mind of the seventies and the piped music made his ears bleed.
Lori and Luan both got a cart and filled it with food, snacks, drinks, toilet paper, and everything else they would need for the weekend. Luna and Lisa filled a cart with cases of beer and wine coolers from the fridge along the back wall, and Lola walked around with her nose in the air like she was better than everyone else.
Then again, she always did that.
"Grab some breakfast stuff, dude," Luna said and handed him a basket. "My shit's full."
Lincoln started at one side of the store and made his way methodically to the other, getting eggs, bacon, sausage, pancake mix, and syrup. He took his purchases through a check-out lane manned by a big black woman in a homespun floral print dress and a red headscarf. She scanned his items...then stopped dead when they came to the syrup, a tight frown creasing her lips. "Chile, what dis be?"
She held it up.
Aunt Jemima syrup.
Lincoln was lost. "Some syrup."
"This is o-fensive," she said and tapped the picture of Aunt Jemima with her finger. "Chile, this ain't how we really is. Y'all white folk acin' like we all Mammy. I ain't yo' Mammy." She weaved her head sassily from side to side.
Lincoln was starting to lose his patience. "Just give me my food, please."
"Ummmmhmmmm," the woman hummed. "Ain't got nothin' to say 'cept gimme my food, nigga."
"I literally didn't say -"
The woman held up one forestalling hand that was as big as a catcher's mitt and twice as leathery. "Y'all thinkin' we still yo slaves. You best reconigze, honkey. We's free now."
Was this really happening, or did he die and go to a bad fanfiction written by an edgy dickhead who thought this kind of shit was funny? He did not have the patience for some random SJW crap. He just wanted to buy his shit and leave. "I never said you were a slave. You're a cashier. I don't care what color you are. I just want my shit so I can go. Okay? I'll take my racist white ass outta here the moment I get my stuff, alright?"
The woman started to reply, but stopped when Luan and Lola came up, Lola pushing a cart filled to the brim with booze, booze mix, and soda. "Hey, Linc," Luan said.
"Typical peckerwood crackas buyin' up all the alcohol," the woman said and shook her head sadly. "Y'all white devils need Black Jesus."
Lola's eyes narrowed. "Uh...what did you call us?"
"You heard me, white bitch."
"Hey, how about you shut up, Mammy?" Luan asked.
The black woman popped tf off. "THAT'S RACIST!"
"You just called us peckerwoods," Lincoln said. "And crackers."
"It true, though."
"And it's true that you weigh 500 pounds," Lola said.
"She looks like a sumo wrestler," Luan said, "who eats other sumo wrestlers."
"I bet she fries them like chicken first," Lola said.
The black woman started to shake like a rocket getting ready to take off. Lincoln thought she was going to reach across the counter, grab Lola in her massive hand, and carry her to the top of the nearest skyscraper, but instead, she threw up her hand and walked away. "I'm goin' on break. Y'all racist asses can go find someone else."
Another cashier soon took her place and Lincoln was able to finally buy his crap and get out.
The others were still combing through the store so he waited in the car. When they came back, Lincoln was shocked at the amount of stuff they brought with them. Bags and bags and bags of food, for one, and for two...holy alcohol, Batman. There was enough of the stuff to get half the state stupid drunk.
There wasn't enough room in the cargo compartment to hold it all, so everyone had to sit something in his lap. Lincoln wound up with a 24 case of Busch perched on his knees, and it drew his sisters like flies to shit. Lisa and Lily leaned over and grabbed a can each; Lynn reached over the seat; Luan scrambled over her; mass pandemonium broke out and suddenly everyone was fighting and yelling at each other.
"Kids!" Mom called. "Calm down."
"There's no kids about it," Lincoln called, "it's the girls. Yell at them."
Once everyone had a beer except for Lori, the driver, peace ruled and the only sound was the sucking and slurping of liquid. Lincoln let out a deep sigh and popped a can open for himself, chugging half at a draught. "I need to be drunk just to deal with this," he said to Ronnie Anne.
"Whatever loosens your puckered butthole, lame-o."
"My butthole is not puckered," Lincoln protested.
"Oh, it's puckered alright. Looks like it just sucked a lemon. Got something you wanna tell me, square for brains?"
Lincoln finished his beer, threw the empty on the floor, and chugged another.
It was going to be a looooong weekend.
Because there were three extra souls along for the ride, Lori rented a bigger cabin in a different location than the one she and the others usually lodged at. A two story A frame with a glass facade, wraparound deck, and more timbers than a shivering pirate, the cabin (if cabin it could be called) overlooked a strip of rocky shoreline edging the steely blue waters of Lake Wakatonka. Thick pine forests surrounded it on three sides, and on the other side of the lake, towering trees pressed against the water's edge. Lincoln spotted another on the opposite shore, but other than that, there wre no signs of civilization whatsoever.
It was peaceful.
But not for long.
Lori parked in the yard and everyone piled out. "Alright, guys," she said, "grab a bag and come on."
They each took a bag or box from the SUV and carried it up the stairs. Lilly hugged a case of beer to her chest and smiled, looking so much like a little girl with her favorite teddy bear it was absurd, and Lana eyefucked a bottle of Jack poking up from a paper bag in Luan's arms.
Lincoln expected the cabin to be opulent and he was not disappointed. Hard wood floors, timber walls, shiny metal appliances, and a flat screen TV screamed LUXURY while the stone fireplace, mounted deer head, and Native American flavored rugs promised rustic relaxation. "Wow," Ronnie Anne breathed, "it's nice."
"I know," Mom said, a hint of wonder in her voice, "Lori, how much did this cost? You must be bankrupt now!"
"Don't worry about it," Lori said. She took a bottle of vodka from a bag and handed it to Mom, "this weekend is all about getting away from worry."
Mom's eyes went to the bottle, then she took it.
Lincoln and the others brought the rest of the stuff in and at once, the festivities began. Leni mixed Long Islands so strong they could cut diamond, Lana and Lola competed to see who could chug the most beer, Lily drank one Smirnoff Ice after another, Luna swirled Crown Royal from a purple velvet bag, Luan, Lori, and Mom pounded screwdrivers and laughed, Lori blended margaritas, Lisa and Lucy drained beer from red solo cups, and Ronnie Anne sipped a bottle of Becks. Lincoln just stood there, taking it all in and wondering if he made the right decision by coming out here.
Ronnie Anne slipped her arm around his waist and he looked at her. "Loosen up, lame-o, the grumpy old man bit is not a good look on you."
"Humbug," Lincoln said.
She laughed and held the bottle to his lips. "Shut up and have fun.."
Rolling his eyes, he let Ronnie Anne feed him a long, yeasty drink. "That's right, baby," she purred, "put it in your mouth."
Lincoln choked, and they both laughed.
She was right. He came along to show his sisters that he wasn't a coward and that he could most definitely have a good time.
And that's exactly what he was going to do.
One drink turned into two, and two into four. He went from station to station, drinking Long Islands with Leni, Crown with Luna, Bud with Lola, Lana, Lisa, and Lucy, margaritas with Lori. After that, things got kind of hazy.
After sundown, everyone gathered in the living room. Ronnie Anne sat on Lincoln's lap and he snaked one hand up her dress, his libidio back from the dead and his dick prodding her butt. "Not right now," she slurred, but made no move to stop him stroking her through her panties.
Lori, swaying and laughing, got up and stood in the center of the room. "There's one thing we didn't tell you guys about our yearly trips," she said.
"What's that?" Mom asked.
"Well," Lori said, "we found out that we all, like, literally...bad feelings built up against each other. You know, normal sibling stuff."
Ronnie Anne's panties dampened and she clamped Lincoln's hand between her thighs. "Okay, really, stop," she whispered.
"And the best way to purge it out of our systems…"
"Is to whip each other's asses," Lynn said.
Suddenly, Lincoln forgot all about Ronnie Anne's WAP. What the fuck did Lynn just say?
Mom blinked in surprise. "You what?"
"We fight. It brings us closer together to get it all out in the open."
Mom took a drink of beer to fortify herself. "That's insane, Lori. Why would you do that?"
"Because it works," Lily said. "I was skeptical at first too but trust me, it's worth the bruises, broken bones, and blackened eyes."
Lincoln laughed.
He couldn't help it.
"This is stupid even for you people," he said.
"Shut up, bitch," Lynn snapped. "You can't fight anyway, so just sit there and keep your tampon in."
Lincoln's eyes narrowed but he didn't say anything. His whole childhood, Lynn bullied him around and he just let it happen. He oughta plow her teeth in.
Instead, he took a deep breath. He was a grown ass thirty year old adult. He was above that crap.
"Here's an example," Lori said. She gestured to Ronnie Anne. "Do you have anything to say to me?"
Ronnie Anne thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Not really, no."
"You sure about that?" Lori asked. "I always got a funny vibe from you."
Lincoln started to tell Lori to cut it out, but Ronnie Anne cut him off. "What do you mean?"
"Just a vibe," Lori said and shrugged. "Like maybe you have something to say."
Ronnie Anne was quiet for a moment. "No, I got nothing. I mean...I used to think it was kind of screwed up how you treated Bobby and sucked up all his time, but whatever."
"How did I treat Bobby?" Lori asked and put her hands on her hips. The others watched with unblinking intensity like a bunch of moviegoers taking in a nail-biting drama. "Huh? Tell me how I treated Bobby?"
"You were a little bitch," Ronnie Anne said. "You ordered him around like a slave, nagged him, you were petty and demanding. He was so in love with you that he'd do anything you asked him to do, and you took advantage of that. Oh, not to mention how jealous and possessive you were."
"I treated Bobby right," Lori said. "I'm sorry he liked to give me gifts and didn't run over top of me like your father did to your mom. Oh, wait, your father wasn't around, was he? Oops. I forgot."
Ronnie Anne's face darkened.
"Lori, that's enough," Lincoln said.
"Fuck you, Lori," Ronnie Anne said. "This is exactly what I was talking about. You were a little bitch then and you're a little bitch now. Because of you, I barely got to spend time with my brother and do you care?"
Lori shrugged. "It's not my fault he'd rather eat my pussy than spend time with his dumb dyke of a little sister."
Without warning, Ronnie Anne sprang off of Lincoln's lap and speared Lori like Bill Goldberg running through a jobber on Nitro. Lori let out a high pitched yelp and they spilled back onto the floor, Ronnie Anne on top. Lincoln jumped to his feet, Mom slapped her hand to her mouth, and everyone else began to cheer.
Like a woman possessed, Ronnie Anne battered Lori with a flurry of slaps and punches. Lori grabbed a handful of Ronnie Anne's hair and yanked her head to the side. "You little slut!" Lori screamed.
"Knock it off!" Lincoln yelled. He tried to separate them, but Lori wrenched away and rolled Ronnie Anne onto her back. She jammed her palm against Ronnie Anne's face and punched her in the chin.
That was it.
Lincoln threw his arms around Lori and dragged her off. Lori screeched and thrashed in his grasp, and Ronnie Anne got to her knees, hairy messy, nose leaking blood. She lunged at Lori and grabbed her around the legs. "Fucking blonde bitch!" she screamed.
"Eat my ass, Mexiwhore!"
Lincoln threw Lori to the floor and shoved Ronnie Anne back. Everyone cried for blood. They pumped their fists, stomped their feet, and chanted "LET THEM FIGHT! LET THEM FIGHT!"
Finally having had enough, Mom got up and called for silence. Everyone fell quiet and looked at her. "I came here to have fun," she said. "I didn't want to be a drag or a wet blanket, I wanted to be a fun mom." Here her voice lifted. "But this is too much. I didn't want to do this, but I'm putting my foot down. This needs to stop."
Lynn blew a raspberry. "She's putting her foot down."
"First time for everything," Lana said.
Mom's brow furrowed. "Excuse me?"
"You never put your foot down before," Lori said from her knees. "Remember that time you let us stop doing chores and trash the house."
"sHoUlD wE sTeP iN yEt?" Lola mocked.
"No, honey," Lana said, deepening her voice in imitation of Dad, "let's sit here while they destroy everything."
Mom opened her mouth, but Lynn cut her off. "Remember that time we thought Lincoln was bad luck and made him sleep outside?"
Lincoln cringed.
I remember it now.
"Yeah, we were dumb kids. You and Dad should have known better."
"Don't forget all the times you told us to solve our own issues," Lucy said, "which led to Lynn bullying me nonstop."
"Oh, you deserved it, you fucking weirdo," Lynn said.
Mom's face was beet red now and her teeth were clenched. "Stop it. Right now. Your father and I -"
"Are bigger jokers than I am," Luan put in.
"Shut your mouth," Mom snapped.
Lincoln helped Ronnie Anne to her feet and ran his hands worriedly over her like a mother looking for fatal wounds. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she said.
"...a bunch of spoiled brats," Mom was saying. She put her hands on her ample hips and glared at the gathering of Louds before her. "Your father and I gave you everything we could and then some, and none of you appreciate it. Luna, those amps you kept breaking costs us hundreds of dollars. Lisa, your lab equipment ate through our savings like Pac-Man in a haunted house. Every time your father or I got a bonus at work, it went to you. Not to us. We never had anything because of you. Sharon Demone'? Remember her? That was your father. He gave you every cent he got that year so you could have money? And none of you care. You're all selfish little pigs."
Someone, Lincoln didn't see who, threw an empty beer can that landed at Mom's feet. Another can followed, then a red solo cup. The latter hit the floor and splashed amber liquid onto Mom's shoe. Now they were all throwing things and yelling, and Mom turned to the side and cocked her leg in an attempt to protect herself.
That was the writing on the wall Lincoln needed to see. Her grabbed Ronnie Anne and hustled her into their bedroom off the parlor. She stumbled and fell onto the bed, tried to get up, and passed out with a mutter. She must have been drunker than he thought.
Yells, wails, and thumping sounded in the living room, and Lincoln winced. What were they doing out there?
He should forget about it and go to bed.
A small, withered, bloodthirsty part of him, however, was morbidly curious.
Creeping to the door on his tippy toes, Lincoln turned the knob and opened it just enough to see into the living room. Mom stood in the middle of -
Suddenly, the girls swarmed her and started beating her ass. Leni threw her to the ground and the dogpiled her. 99 percent of his family was reduced to a seething mass of flesh and cuss words, and all Lincoln could do was gape.
Then, with a roar, Mom bucked them all off and jumped to her feet. Lucy charged her, and Mom clocked her in the jaw. "YOU'RE MY LEAST FAVORITE!" she screamed.
Lana came at her, and she punched her as well. "YOU'RE MY LEAST FAVORITE TOO!"
Screaming, Luna came up behind her and punched her in the back of the head. Lily shoved her back, and Luan kicked her in the knee. Mom started to fall, pinwheeled her arms, and fell flat on her ass, making the whole house shake. Lana came up behind her and kicked her in the back, and Leni dumped a beer on her head, soaking her hair. Mom gasped like a woman wading into cold water, then got to her knees. "Oh, you little bitch," she hissed. She grabbed Leni's foot and yanked, knocking her down. The others - Lynn, Luna, Luan, Lori, Lana, Lily - fell on her and she took out Lynn's legs, spilling her to the floor.
God, they're killing each other.
What should he do?
The way he saw it, he had three options.
1. Call the cops.
2. Leave them alone.
3. Go out there and break them up.
Call him what you will, but calling the cops on his family struck him as a real dick move, so that was out. Getting involved and risking life and limb was also out. When they got like this, his sisters ceased to be human beings and became fucking animals instead. He loved them and all that jazz, but he wasn't about to let them tear him apart.
So number two it was.
After getting Ronnie Anne under the covers, Lincoln stripped to his underwear, turned off the light, and slid in next to her. The thumping and shouting in the living room eventually tapered off and crashing silence lay over the cabin like a shroud.
Were they all dead?
He strained to listen for survivors but didn't hear any. He pictured dead bodies strewn around like war casualties on a battlefield and his stomach turned. No, he didn't think they literally killed each other, but goddamn, he'd seen ECW matches that were less violent.
Should he get up and check on them?
Eh. He was too comfortable to get up. If he had to pee or something, he'd poke his head out, but he wouldn't get out of bed specifically for them. They were grown-ass women. They could take care of themselves.
He started to drift.
fIgHtInG bRiNgS uS cLoSeR tOgEtHeR.
Can you believe that? Of all the dumb shit he'd heard in his three decades, that took the cake. He could kind of see Lori's point about built-up resentment and shit - if he was honest, he had some of his own - but beating up your sisters wasn't the way to handle it. That's not how adults act. If you're holding onto grudges from childhood (omg, you bought the same dress as me once, I still haven't forgiven you), the grown up thing to do was to sit the other person down and talk about it. Of course his sisters didn't do that. Oh, no, that would be too mature. All through childhood they were ran wild like savages, and it was up to him to hold everything together. Was it egotistical to say he was the glue that kept his family from falling apart? Because he totally was. He mediated fights, he gave advice, what did the rest of them do? They fought, they bickered, they pushed, they shoved, they were rude and selfish and treated him like shit. Fucking assholes. It made sense they'd do something like this. It's not like they could employ an intelligence or empathy to solve their problems. Nope, they used dumb, brute force like the graceless pigs they were.
Thinking of all the ways his sisters had hurt and fucked him over set the dry kindling of Lincoln's old resentment ablaze, and fire filled his chest. Lynn asked if he remembered that time they kicked him out of the house. Yeah, he fucking remembered. He also remembered every other time they fucked him in the ass. You don't forget shit like having to sleep on a porch because some retard jockstrap-for-brains thinks you're bad luck. No, Lynn, I'm not bad luck, you're just a shitty baseball player. Could she admit her own faults and shortcomings? No. None of them could. They blamed him, they blamed Mom and Dad, they blamed each other, but they never, ever put the blame where it really belonged: On themselves.
Even though he was angry, he began to fall asleep, and his last thought before conking out was: I hope they hurt each other.
And they had. At breakfast the next morning, they were covered in scrapes, bruises, cuts, and scratches. They didn't seem upset, though. In fact, when he and Ronnie Anne came into the kitchen, they were all clustered around the stove, laughing and talking as Mom made breakfast. Looking at them, they were a happy and loving family who would never kick the everloving shit out of each other.
Everyone sat at the table, and Mom put a plate in front of each of them. "Thanks, Mom," Lynn said.
"Thanks, Mom," Lori echoed.
"You're welcome, dear," Mom said.
The atmosphere was light and sunny and from the way they were acting, it was like they -
Were closer?
Lincoln frowned. Well, yeah. But that didn't mean that Lori's harebrained idea worked. It was just…
You know, he had no idea and he didn't want one. He was hungry and headachy from last night and he didn't have the time or energy to worry about them.
"Where'd you go last night?" Lynn asked him.
"To bed."
Lynn snorted. "More like you ran away."
"Pretty much, yeah," Lincoln said.
"What a bitch."
Lincoln shrugged nonchalantly. His face, however, burned red.
"Ronnie, what do you see in him?" Lynn asked. "He's the weakest dude ever. I swear, I've known infants with more balls than him."
"He makes a good punching bag," Ronnie Anne said and playfully nudged him with her elbow.
Oh, is that all I am to you?
"That's all he's good for," Lynn said. "I mean, you're basically a lesbian since being with him is like having a girlfriend."
Lincoln angrily stabbed a piece of egg with the tines of his fork.
"He's all man," Ronnie Anne assured her.
"Yeah," Lynn said, "all two inches of him."
She was trying to piss him off. The best way to get back at her was to ignore her, since, like their other sisters, she was a massive attention whore. "Want me to kick her ass for you, lame-o?" Ronnie Anne asked with a devious grin. Did she mean it or was she just playing around?
"Nah," Lincoln said, "she's not worth the effort."
Lynn snorted. "Neither one of you could beat me. Both of you couldn't beat me.'
And there was Lynn's massive, over bloated ego.
After breakfast, everyone went for a swim in the lake, and then into town for a few last minute supplies that didn't make the boat yesterday. Ronnie Anne filled a basket with varois itms them brought to the check out counter. A girl with pink hair, Buddy Holly glasses, a nose ring, and a pin stuck to her vest screaming I'M A VEGAN! rang each one up, stopping dead when she reached a can. "Uh...did you get this by mistake?" she asked.
She showed it to Lincoln and Ronnie Anne.
Goya kidney beans.
"Uh...no," Ronnie Anne said, confused.
The woman's brow darkened. "So you're buying them on purpose? Don't you know they hate Mexicans? They support Trump, they're literally the most evil corporation ever."
Ronnie Anne rolled her eyes.
"You're supporting racists. You're a traitor to your people."
"I don't really care, lady, give me my beans."
The woman scanned them. "Whatever. Be that way.'
Outside, Lincoln shook his head. "What's wrong with people around here?"
"Must be an outbreak of small brain disease," Ronnie Anne said.
Back at the house, the party was already in full swing. Lynn, Luan, and Lucy stood in the kitchen chugging beer, Mom downed one wine cooler after another, and the others did pretty much the same. Lincoln sat in the living room with a beer and watched them acting like fools. Everyone eventually gravitated into the living room and started in on him with that "Join us" crap.
"Come on, Linc," Lori said, "I know you have something on your chest. Get it out there."
"Yeah, Linc," Luan added.
Lana looked at Lola. "Start with her. Everyone has a problem with Lola."
Finally, to shut them up, he said, "Fine. Lola, remember that time you busted my balls because I had those noise cancelling ear buds in? Yeah, fuck you."
Lola lifted her brows. "Fuck you. You were such a little faggot. You acted like you were too good for you."
"I wanted to read a comic in peace but you're all so fucking insecure that you couldn't let that happen. All eyes and ears had to be on you. You guys could do whatever you wanted but I couldn't even have peace and quiet. Fuck me, right? Oh, and that time I wanted to take a picture for Mom and Dad...you guys couldn't even be bothered to stand still for one minute. You gave me nothing but hell. After all I did for you, you couldn't even help me out."
The more he spoke, the madder he got. His face burned hotly and his heart pounded against his ribs. He was sitting up straight now, his body rigid and shaking. "Then you kicked me out of the house. I won't even go into that. Lynn was right, though, Mom and Dad should have known better, but they're a couple of limpwristed retards anyway."
"Excuse me?" Mom asked.
"Fuck you, asswipe. Fuck all of you. But especially fuck you."
He pointed at Lynn, who froze. "Me?"
"Yeah, you, shit for brains. You were a bully. To me. To Lucy. To Lana. Every time we saw your ugly face, we cringed because we knew you were on some dumb shit. You think you're the best thing ever but you suck at ball, you suck at life, and you suck at family. I hope you never have kids. If you do, you'll push them to be just like you and if they aren't? You'll fucking bully them too."
Lynn stood up.
Lincoln stood up too.
"You sound like you want your ass kicked," Lynn said.
"Try it, meathead. I'm not eleven anymore. You're not gonna bully me this time."
Lynn came forward quick and low, her teeth bared.
Lincoln punched her square in the face. Her nose burst beneath his fist and her feet lifted off the floor as though God were pulling her to Heaven (Yeah, she's dead, bring her home). She hit the wall, slid down to a sitting positon, and slumped to one side.
WASTED.
Power surged through Lincoln's vins and for the first time in his life, he felt strong.
"MY ROOMMATE!" Lucy cried. She threw herself at Lincoln, and he acted on instinct alone, a marriott at the end of a string. He grabbed Lucy by the wrist and jerked her arm up between her shoulder blades with a wet, sickening crack.
Lucy wailed in misery and Lincoln shoved her at Mom, who sat in the cabin's sole armchair. She hit and the chair fell backwards, spilling them both to the floor.
Lana came at him with a broken beer bottle, and Lincoln punched her so hard her jaw instantly dislocated. She dropped and lay still, blood gushing from her ruined mouth. Panting like an animal, gone in his fury, Lincoln turned his attention to the others, who cowered near the fireplace looking uncertain and scared. Every trespass they had ever committed against him, no matter how slight, came back to him in a rush, and the rage in his chest grew, consuming him completely. "FUCKING BITCHES!" he roared. He picked up the coffee table and they all screamed.
"Wait, Linc, no!" Lori howled. "You're this too far!"
He heaved the table and it crashed into them, knocking Luna, Luan, and Lola to the ground. He looked around, spotted a bottle of Jack, and chucked it at them. It hit Leni in the head (thunk!), and she her eyes rolled back in their sockets. Mom came at him from the side. "Lincoln, honey, s -"
He did not hear her, did not see the look of horror on her face.
All he saw was another enemy.
Ducking, he scooped her up in his arms and body slammed her, sending shockwaves through the entire house. Ronnie Anne hid behind the couch, looking both scared and sexually excited.
"WHO'S NEXT?" Lincoln bellowed.
Lori.
Lori was next.
He grabbed the front of her shirt and drove his knee into her stomach. Lisa and Lily hugged each other and screamed in terror. He rammed their heads together and they went down.
They were all dead.
Lincoln threw back his head, let out a wail of rage - 30 years worth - then collapsed onto the couch and passed out.
Lynn Loud came awake some time later, her body riddled with aches and pains. The world was blindlingly white and her head throbbed hotly. She tentatively opened her eyes and squinted.
Lincoln and Ronnie Anne stood over her, Lincoln looking miserable and Ronnie Anne pale as a ghost. "What happened?" Lynn croaked.
"Things got out of hand," Ronnie Anne said and looked at Lincoln.
Huh?
Then it all came flooding back.
Lincoln went beserk and beat the shit out of her.
She looked around, and the rest of her sisters were there too, all of them laid up in hospital beds with bruises and casts. Lori looked at her and narrowed her eyes. "This is your fault," she said.
"Don't be a Lynn," Lola said worriedly, "you might set her off."
Lynn looked at Lincoln. "I guess I deserved this."
"Yeah," Lincoln said, "but I shouldn't have gone too far."
"I should have known he'd have the most resentment of us all," Lisa said. "And rightly so."
"I'm sorry for beating you up," Lincoln said.
Lynn was sorry too. Very sorry. "It's okay," she said. "Sorry I was a bitch to you."
"Me too," Lori said.
Everyone else apologized too.
"This is the last time I'm coming with you," Rita said. "No more wild stuff for me."
As it so happened, that was the last time Lincoln could go as well. Whatever anger he had left over from childhood was gone, put away on a shelf and left behind as it should have been. From that point on, he never even thought of any of the awful things his sisters had done to him.
That was the past.
And eventually, you have to let go of the past.
THE END.