Hey kids! It's time for another awfully hilarious - or hilariously awful - chapter in the world's worst novel re-imagined for the bailout era!
Turkey, $30. Champagne, $25. Fancy lace tablecloth, $2,000 (seriously, tablecloths are frickin' expensive). Dinner service and fine china, $2,500. Silverware, $3,000. Feeling superior to everyone in the room because you can quantify all this junk, priceless!
Or it would be if Spank Rearend could wrap his myopic mind around the concept of something being worth more than money. As it stands, he calculated his self-satisfaction this night at being somewhere in the seven figures... And was wondering when he would be receiving a check for it.
"God, I hate Thanksgiving," Rearend's mother groaned at the head of the dinner table. "It always means I have to see you people again."
"We love you too, ma," said Bill, Spank Rearend's brother who'd been long absent from this narrative.
"Rakum frakum..." Spank just muttered from his end of the expensive spread.
"What was that?"
"Please excuse Spank," Lilly said nervously. "He's... not in the best mood."
"Oh, is this about that trial tomorrow?" Spank's mother asked.
For those of you just joining us, Spank Rearend was arrested and charged with contempt of court - and some other stuff - for violating an injunction against producing more of his spankmeum alloy. That's still part of the plot and he's damn sure going to court for it.
"I'll have you know," Spank said with great self-important gravity, "I intend to make a stand tomorrow."
"Of course you will, everyone stands when the judge enters."
"No, ma. I think he means he's gonna make a scene."
"Well that's to be expected. I remember when he tried to muscle more allowance -"
"I had expenses!" snapped Spank, hotly.
"Of course you did, you were twenty-three!" his mother retorted.
Continue reading the latest chapter of Atlas Shirked!