Male 18-25. 249 words. Frankie: "Sizzle, fizzle, and melt." From: Remote.
By Paul Pasulka
Mary Ellen? I just talked to her, Uncle Scott. You are fucked. She’s engaged to Trip now.T he deadline passed on that brief you were supposed to file. You’re gonna be disbarred. There’s a warrant out for your arrest for corporate theft. Your father is legally disowning you. Oh. And your Led Zeppelin collection has been cut up, shredded, demagnetized and/or melted. Do you know what happens to a zeppelin balloon when it’s kissed by the flame of a propane torch? You’d think “Bang!” right? Nope. Sizzle, fizzle, and melt. Sad, really. A whimper… Man, do you stink! Well, good luck.
What? Uncle Scott, really, you’re just embarrassing yourself now. Remember when my father - when we needed help? You were like, “The doctor, he says you are one dead mother fucker.” Your own brother. And you were making good money.
Oh, sure. I understand. Completely. I understand that you are a self-absorbed cowardly piece of shit. We didn’t have a dime. My mother was sick - almost died. But you just kept flying higher and higher on your father’s golden wings. You were so close to the sun, and now you are falling. Happy landings.
What? Give you a ride? Yeah, I could. But naw. I’m sure you don’t want me to spoil the upholstery with all this desert sand. Plus, now you’re free. What? Water? Oh, alright. Here. I guess technically this water bottle still belongs to you. Later. Well, probably not, by the looks of you.