I went to check out a ruckus out in the back yard. Two of my step brothers were back there digging around and whispering orders to each other.
"What are you guys doing?" I asked.
"Ummm, fixing your fence."
"How is digging around in a trash pile "fixing my fence"?"
I could see that they were annoyed with my question. They aren't the two brightest humans in the world. The older one, nice as he was as a kid, was always in special education classes and was considered to be a slow learner. The younger one was caught jacking off the family dog which explained why the dog liked him best. True story.
Anyway, there was something definitely going on with these two. There was no way they were just back there fixing my fence.
But I had other things to worry about.
My younger alcoholic brother showed up wasted on my scooter. I knew it was mine even though he had chopped it up and painted it it white (it was blue).
"Why are the cops in your back yard?" he asked as he took a long pee on a bush.
"They aren't, that's the The Doofus Twins, they claim to be fixing my fence, but they are up to something.
"No , I saw The Doofus Twins on the way in, they are in the middle yard playing with garbage. The cops are definitely in your back yard."
He was right. I went back there and there were cops and forensics experts calmly undigging the holes The Doofus Twins had made. One forensic guy was pulling out a severed leg with a bad shoe from a hole, another a hand with a dumb ring, still another was sliding an ear with an awful earring into a baggie.
I never knew the step brothers to be killers but you never know what people are gonna do when they serve the ultra short stack of pancakes for breakfast if you catch my drift.
Knowing that the "probable" killers, my step brothers, were just inside the house made me nervous. I considered telling the cops they were in there and that I had seen them digging around, but then I remembered that The Doofus Twins always traveled with big bags of pot and crystal meth and I didn't wanna get busted for having drugs in the house even though they weren't mine.
I went to the middle yard where I found The Doofus Twins yet again shoveling around in the dirt, dumping out bags of trash into a heap. This time I could clearly see a big stupid Lakers Nike tennis shoe attached to a leg sticking out of the garbage, the kind of shoe that was ironically cool like MAYBE in 1999, but for craps sake, by the time the shoe companies start re-issuing old designs to capitalize on "vintage" trends, fucking Keanu Reeves is rocking that shit and we all know what that means.
Well maybe YOU don't but ! do. You're probably wearing dumb shoes too.
"You guys have any idea why the cops are in the back yard undigging your treasures?"
I kept a friendly smile on my face, lord knows I didn't wanna be on the mean side of a couple of murderous retards.
"Umm, nope."
Right then a cop carrying a leg with another crap shoe on it walked past us in the hallway, apparently completely unaware that the probable killers were standing right there with shovels and garbage in hand burying yet another corpse.
It'd be cool if this story had an awesome gun fight or something at the end, maybe it did, I didn't stick around to see what else happened.
Why would I? Knowing my step brothers well enough as I did, I'm sure the poor fellas who ended up getting chopped up weren't the best and brightest anyway.
I could tell that just from their dumb shoes on the ends of their stupid severed legs.
You can tell a lot about a person by the shoes they wear.
They deserved it -- at least a little.
That's all for now.
Don't get caught worrying that your doofy step brothers will google you then find you and chop you up.
Your Step Dad's Saggy Pants,
John McCain
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