July 29, 2015 02:55:44 PM
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Zachary

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17

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Grandpa’s Manboobs
By: Zachary S. Edwards

The sun rose and everything fell. And I do mean everything; including my level of dignity, my tolerance and my Grandpa’s drooping man boobs stinking up the back of the car.

“WOWZA!”, laughed Alex. Alex is my disturbingly dimwitted friend who eats Moon Sand. If I could go back I honestly would have taken anyone besides him to my Grandpa’s retirement home. And that's even including that random girl from homeroom with the nasty corns on her feet and the tattoo of a potato on her neck. At least she’s smart enough spell water bottle on the 2nd try unlike him.

But Alex is funny, so I guess that was main my motivator to bring him along. But his comments were starting to get annoying. “So did your Grandpa get a botched boob job in Mexico recently, cause I was just wondering where I could get mine messed up too?”,said Alex. Alex was now screaming with laughter and continued to compare my Grandfather's enlarged breasts to outrageous...alright nevermind,...pretty accurate descriptions of what they looked like.

So I guess he was right, my Grandpa could have been a part of UNiCEF, he could have feed half of Africa with those glistening jugs. But Alex didn't have to scream like one of those annoying screeching goats from YouTube.

“Sssshh! Shut up Alex, he’s got Gynecomastia,” I said. Alex paused for a moment and was about to say something. But I already knew what he was thinking .
“NO! I don't know why his rack smells like a sleeve of old coins and horseradish,” I yelled. Alex just stared with amusement. “I was actually going to ask if we were getting close to the human shelter,” he said. “You mean retirement home, I retorted”. “Same thing”, said Alex. I rolled my eyes so far back into my head, cause I really knew deep in my heart that he actually thought they were the same thing. Alex, for the love of...would you quiet down . Please I am begging you. DO NOT WAKE HIM. You know he suffers from flashbacks of the war. I honestly can’t take him screaming everytime I open a bag of corn nuts. And not to mention you can only backhand a person from craziness so many times before you start to worry about their health. “Geez, I wouldn’t dream of waking up ol’ Dolly Parton back there, “laughed Alex. Thank you, I said with relief.

“And again, are we almost there cause I feel really uncomfortable being in an inclosed space with him,” worried Alex. Don’t you worry, were almost to his retirement home. And Alex what could he do to you. You two were getting along fine not too long ago.
“Um I don’t know maybe he’ll try to choke me with a Slim Jim again and make me promise not to give up our location to the enemy. Or maybe he’ll describe my sister as a combination of Ke$ha and a PT cruiser. I don’t maybe one those things, “Alex snorted. “Haven’t you ever thought about getting him in to see someone.” “Well…, we did,” I said. “And…”,he questioned? Well let’s just say most physicians don't like to be called Satan's Alchemist and kicked repeatedly and I don’t think my family wants to be sued again.
“And shouldn’t you already know this, I’m pretty sure the physician was your cousin,” I chuckled! “I don’t know, my backyard family gets a new cousin like almost every week,” he said bitterly. Our joking was abruptly put to a hold by seemingly minuscule crack in the road.

That crack stretched into a pothole and there was no way around it but to slow down but that was too late. It was too late for everything.I braced for impact.

We hit the pothole hard. Grandpa began to scream and furl around.Then all of sudden he turned toward the car window and spat on it. And then proceeded to ram his head against the window. He started grumbling archaic Latin, which wasn’t even the worst of it. What was most disturbing was he kept shaking his arms like he was holding one those “Shake weights” and kept spelling banana from the Gwen Stefani song.
Then the car became silent and I looked in my rear-view mirror. And there he was sitting all stout with his shirt off and pig lookin legs stouted just breathing really deeply. “Hot rodded Condoleezza Rice please calm down Grandpa! Or else I will turn off Dave Ramsey,” I threatened. He stared at me with such disgust. His stare was a mixture of slapping someone child and crying.
“You'd better get to talkin before I rip your faces off and make the skins make out,” he screamed! Grandpa you need to chill. I am your Grandson, you know... “All i know is that I got hemorrhoids the size of Jupiter and cats should never be milked.” Alex and I just stared at each other. “ What yall gonna do just keep staring at each other until one of yous get pregnant, I gotta piss.”.
“Pull over,” said Alex. “What I'm not pulling over, he can just suck it up”. And before we knew it Grandpa had jumped towards the dashboard and grabbed Alex’s face with two hands. He screamed “WOOHOO, I'M FREE!” And shoved poor Alex’s face into his chest.
I swerved the car trying to shake him off of Alex. That man was not budging. But that was it I wasn’t playing around. I grabbed the half filled Gatorade bottle and hit him over the head. That man didn’t even flinch, There was only one thing left to do. So I reached over and pinched him on the arm. He screamed and jumped to the back of the car.
Alex was finally able to breathe again. I looked at him. He just looked up at the sky, with his eyes all glossy. Whimpering the indiscernible words. “Well, I told you I needed to use the bathroom,” said Grandpa. Who now sat calmly in the back.
I was finally able to skid my way into the nearest gas station. Grandpa’s stomach started to growl. I ran out of the car and grabbed Grandpa behind the arms and I told Alex to pick him up from the legs. Alex and his peanut mind accidentally ripped Grandpa’s pants off. So not only were we trying to lift this old sack, now he was pantsless. And now every man, woman and biker gang member were staring at us trying to lift this farting man to the convenience store at the gas station.

We finally were able to open to doors to the gas station convenience store and we head to the bathrooms. “Okay on the count of 3 were going to slide him into the bathroom,” I cautioned. But instead Alex decides to hammer throw the old man into the bathroom and slam the door shut. By now half the country is now presently in the rest stop staring at us. It was silent for a good 30 seconds. Until we all heard grumbling, coughing, then screaming all in that order. Then he went silent again. Grandpa called out to Alex. “I need help.” I fell to my knees and begged him not to enter. Alex stared at the door handle and slowly turned the knob.