Viscera and Other Tales

Falsing

I've always hated my brother in law, Greg.

He always seemed to carry himself with a certain amount of smugness, an air of being better than everyone.

In his mind I'm sure he was. Graduate of Harvard, successful business man, never wanted for anything. He didn't struggle like I did. Probably didn't even know the meaning of the word.

At every family event, center of the room, surrounded by his posse. Alan, Fredrick, Devon. They never left his side.

It was like he was even trying to one up his family.

"Hey Reggie!" He'd shout, calling me over. "Come talk to your brother in law a little!"

I'd walk over, reluctantly of course, drink in hand.

"You never finished college right?" He'd ask, smug smile, cheek to cheek.

"You know I didn't." I'd say.

"Right, right, yeah. I remember Maggie bringing it up once."

Maggie was my wife and Greg's sister.

"Some people aren't cut out for education." Devon said. "Can't hack it."

"Just wasn't offering much." I said.

Greg chuckled. "Sure it wasn't."

This was how most conversations between us went. Just Greg saying asshole things and trying to get a rise out of me.

Eventually, with Maggie's advice, I learned to just ignore him like everyone else. Leave him to his fellating friends and pretend not to hear him call.

It worked for a while.

Until a certain night.

My in laws had invited Maggie and I over for a dinner party.

They could be a bit stuffy, but mostly nice. I was dressed as well as could be managed, Maggie looked beautiful that night.

"Is Greg gonna be there?" I asked.

"Of course." She said, adjusting the clasp on her necklace. "Why wouldn't he be?"

"Nobody likes him."

She laughed. "He's family, babe. We're close knit. My parents wouldn't dream of not inviting their precious son."

The party was nice, relatively quiet for the amount of people there. Lots of nice chatting, good food, polite guests.

Except for Greg and his gang.

Off towards the bar, harassing the poor barkeep. Talk of wages and payment, how much they make in a year compared to him.

I had to say something.

I maneuvered through the crowd and tapped Greg on the shoulder.

I expected him to turn around, shit eating grin in place. Instead he turned, sternly burning holes into me.

In an instant, he shot his arm forward, nearly colliding it with my face. At the last second, he stopped. Less than an inch away he pulled his arm back and lowered it.

He began to laugh, his trio laughing with him.

"Gotcha!" He said.

I rolled my eyes and walked away.

Deciding I needed to cool down, I headed outside for a smoke.

The night air enveloped me and kept me level headed.

"Got falsed did ya?" I heard behind me.

I turned to see my father in law, Gerald, standing in the doorway.