Day CCCII

Da Cold Truth

     When he entered one of ada buildings, da weasel stayed behind, she sat on a near by bench and waited. It wasn’t long befo pop came down, laffing with two goigeous young girls, one on each arm. They wuz twins, looked just like me, man, and wuz abouda same age as me.

     Holiieee sheeeet! She muttered ta hawsef...da old man has a second fambly.

     Again she sed det ta moms, ina same way as befo, man. Can ya dig det sheet, man? Anyway, da secret was out, but instead of facing pop, an confointing im, da weasel hustled haw skanky, trouble making, ass back home, and don told mom all aboudit, man. Dat evening when pop came home, da sheet hit the freaking fan, dude.

     “Desgrasiado!” Mom screamed.

     “But wat have I done my love?” He pleaded.

     “Don ya da my love me…ya, ya ya cheetah!”

     “Wat is diz about?”

     “Iris tol us all aboudit!”

     “About waaaa at?”

     “Ya Staten Island girls be wat!”

    I felt so bad fo im, man. I saw im quietly gulp, and bow his haid tada flo, man. I guess, he always noo someday da truf would comes out, and it finally did. But like ta has it comes out like dat, by a nosy nabe who he had neva even liked. Det was so cold, man. I still gits chills thinking aboudit. Then mom’s continued,

     “Na at last we na why ya disappeahs evy freaking Sunday, uh!”

     She finished scolding im, but she was still seething, man. If Mt. St. Helens hadda face, then det nite…mom’s wuz it, yo.