Suck It Universe!

Chapter 1: George Clooney and 'Welcome' carpets

My mother had always said a mind like mine belonged in jail. Said I’ve been causing all sorts of detainment worthy mischief since the tender age of 3. I took her words lightly of course. None the less, if one fine afternoon I do decide to misplace my smidge of leftover sanity and go after someone with a pair of scissors, it would either be my science teacher or my next door neighbour from hell; Mrs Humphrey. Not that I haven’t attempted to put old Mrs Humphrey out of her breathing state, it just never seems to go according to plan.

I never once trusted my mother. After all she was the person who made me believe that for a fraction of my life that George Clooney was the producer of my winning sperm. After having written ‘Venus Clooney’ on all my schoolwork up till grade 6 and really analysed my mother, I sort of figured it out. I don’t think she has yet though. Knowing her full well, she probably told me about it while chugging down a bottle of Jack Daniels.

Well if she was sober, she’d go ballistic if she knew where I was. Not that I was going to ring her up anytime soon casually telling her I had been arrested causing all hell to break lose. But since I assumed that she was probably slurring her sins to the table lamp with a bottle of scotch in her nightgown pocket, I guess I’ve spared Animal Control another visit to our house, saying that the neighbours have yet again heard a hyena being run over by a lawn mower.

Yes boys and girls, I was for the very first time, behind bars. With the blessing of Mrs Humphrey, I was currently detained in a one bed cell at the famous River Pudding Prison. I guess the name sort of gives the ‘specialty’ away. There are criminals all over the country, from serial killers to the robbers. But what happens to those odd balls who commit crimes like stealing old ladies’ undergarments? They get sent here.

Hubert McGinty was held here for five years for pissing on people’s ‘Welcome’ carpets. And according to one of my lovely cell mates, I was currently resting on where Hubert himself kept his ‘pissing carpet’ for those five years. The authorities refused to change it after Hubert allegedly assaulted a police officer during one of his daily one man strikes against urinals. And the fact that they made the prisoners drink sewer water didn’t quite help with the lingering ammonia. So if my calculations were correct, I was at the moment, sitting on a stain of five years’ worth of mental instability and pee. Sensational.

So why was I here? Mr Peek; my science teacher was safe at home, probably applying lotion to that Ping-Pong ball sized wart embracing his face which I swear tried to communicate with me once. And the still breathing Mrs Humphrey was probably at home breastfeeding that Scottish terrier which she swears is her deceased husband’s reincarnation. I have told her multiple times that with his busy schedule; Satan would not have the time to reincarnate. But what do I get for being a good citizen and politely advising an old loony about her unnatural habits? I get fertilizer thrown at me. Go figure.