| ZYGOTE IN MY COFFEE.COM |
| ***BIO*** Nick Ostdick is a fiction writer from the Chicago area. He is the author of the novel Sunbeams and Cigarettes, and his short works have appeared in many online and print publications. |
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| © 2007 zygoteinmycoffee Ink. |
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| Where The Good Actors Go |
| by Nick Ostdick |
| I’m gonna kill the bitch; kill her real good too. She’s all up in my face about that damn baby. She says it’s mine, and that I’m the real father and all. I get something like ten phone calls a day from her telling me how this baby needs me. She been by my house and got into a fight with my girlfriend and the police were called and shit. She’s trying to pin this on me, that I’m the damned father.
Bullshit. She’s always lying ‘bout everything. It’s not mine. She’s been fucking like crazy, everything and everyone she can wrap her legs around. That’s how she got me, at some party, real drunk and everything, and the next thing I knew we were in some dark bedroom making it all over the place like fucking animals. She’s real ugly too. I don’t want anyone to know that I fucked her. That fat ass hangs out all over the place, and her fat arms and tits are like these big bags of sand that flop all around and jiggle and shit. It’s real gross. She’s got one nasty face too. Look at her, and then look at me. You think someone like me, all put together and shit, would do that bitch? Now wait for the boos… Stomp my feet. Stomp my feet. Throw my hands up in the air. Shake my head all dismayed like. Antagonize that audience. Fuck you! Fuck you all! You all don’t know shit! The baby ain’t mine! The baby ain’t mine! Now get all up in her face, yelling and cursing her out. You’re a slut! You’re such a fat bitch! It was like fucking a walrus! Give the finger to the audience. Wait for more booing… Maury! Maury! Maury! Julian, in the case of one-year old Alex, you are not the father. Now jump out of the chair and antagonize the audience again. I told you, bitch! I told you! I was right! Run around the tiny stage and between the red-fabric armchairs gloating. Really make them hate you. It’s crucial for the next step. She starts crying now, right when she should, and runs backstage with all the cameras follow her. Perfect timing. Wait for it… Wait for it… Patience, this is like science. Run backstage after her with the cameraman closely behind. She’s all bent over crying like crazy, mumbling into her soaked hands. She’s real good, been at this for a few years now, and real experienced. Console her. Rub her back and all. I’m gonna help, baby. I’m gonna be the kid’s father. Hold her hand. Really lay it on. I love you baby, but I was just scared. I be the kid’s daddy. Lead her back onstage with her head on my shoulder and our hands clasped together. Rub her hand and all. Be real loving. You have to make them love you now. I’m gonna be the boy’s daddy, Maury. I don’t care about the tests. I gonna be there for this child. Really? Yes sir, Maury. Gonna be real respectable and all. A real man. Wait for audience applause… Gently kiss her, real soft and smooth like while Maury talks about the next guest and the theme music fades back up. That’s how it works, just like theater, except there isn’t an after party. |
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| Jan. 2007 |
| 75 |