JACEY'S POV
When I got home, my ex-sweetie pie was gone and all her stuff had gone with her. Which was most of our things, so I didn't have a bed, just a lonely wooden chair in the corner covered in cobwebs.
I looked around and gathered up my things in a suitcase, knowing I would need to find somewhere to stay. But, where? I could stay with Oliver, but his house smells like olives and I only recently kicked my olive-smelling addiction. Or Olin, but his house is musty, dusty and crusty. There's always Ewart, but ewwww. Also he's dead to me, but that's another story. I could stay with George, but he's a little too curious, if ya know what I mean. His oldest daughter gives me the creeps, too. That only left one man: Marcellus. Marcellus Dirtfreeze, I mean Washburn.
I grabbed my bag and slammed the house's front door, almost catching my foot in it, leaving the old chair behind. I galloped down the block, my styrofoam hat leaving my head. But did I give a by-gad toot? Hill? Hill? Hill? Hill? No!
All heads turned to me as they realized I was partaking in the gay. Real men don't gallop. That was the instant I realized. I had seen Marce gallop to the Sociable yesterday. By god, Marcellus partook in the gay, too! Is this fate?
My galloping speed increased faster than a grease monkey as I neared Marce's home. I couldn't wait to ask him; I couldn't wait to confirm the fact that he took part in gay activities. By gad! By darn tootin' gad!
I knocked on the door, bouncing up and down as I waited for a response.
"Oh! It's my son!" I heard from behind the door. "Wait a minute... I haven't got any son! Who's at the door?" an all too familiar voice was heard through the door. My wife. My stomach dropped. IBy gads, it was my wife!
The door flung open, and I saw an angry Mrs. Squires taking the form of the angry square filter from an app called Snapchat that was to be invented in exactly 100 years in the year of 2012.
"Jacey, why are you here? Go spend the night with Oliver! You aren't wanted here!" She screeched.
"No!" I caught the door as she attempted to shut it. "You know his house smells like olives. You can't put me through that again!"
"I have to birth a by-gad child! I never knew that boodleing would result in such boodle-worthy consequences!" She began to shut the door again, her wild brown hair whipping in the still air. (How did it do that? There's no wind?) But this time, Marce came to the door and to my rescue.
"NO!" He screamed. "You can't let him stay at that house! You know he has an addiction!"
"Fine. Let him inside. But if he boodles with me one more time..."
She opened the door and allowed me to step into the home. Twas a quaint, but modern little place. Marcellus kept himself and his lover happy with the latest gadgets and technology. I even saw a bottle of nail polish on the counter. I hoped it was for me. And yet there was something so cozy about the place. Something that made me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. As though I would never have to sniff another olive.
No, Jacey. Stop getting ahead of yourself. You don't even know if he licks-I mean likes (totally meant likes) you!
As I turned to see Marcellus, I saw a flash of red hair. Was Ethel here? I guess she should be; she was Marcellus' "girlfriend" after all. She would be hard to get rid of, even if Marcellus did have the gay running through his blood.
Suddenly she seemed to come out of the woodwork, out of absolutely nowhere. "I'M ETHEL TOFFELMIER!"
"I... know..." I said awkwardly. "I've known you since we were children."
"Yes. But I'm Ethel Toffelmier." Somehow, my gut told me that she wouldn't be that hard to get rid of.
MARCELLUS' POV
When Jacey showed up, I was overjoyed. His lady comrade, however, seemed less than pleased. She nearly ruined the scam for me. Scam? I'm so used to talking in my old con-artist ways. It isn't a scam at all, just love.
There's only one big obstacle right now, though: Ethel. Did she approve of the gay? And what would she think when I told her I wanted to marry someone else? Be with another? And the other was a man!!!!!!!!SWQ@NV#zHIB!F@#Bzeuv.
"Sweet honey boo-boo child?" Ethel called. She never was good with pet names. I assumed she was talking to me, but Mrs. Squires looked to her as well.
"Yes?" The other woman uttered.
"HUH? AW, NAW." I was confused. Did she partake in the gay, too? Or was this another of their shenanigans? "DO YOU PARTAKE IN THE GAY?"
All three looked at me with varied expressions, but they all communicated the same emotion: Confused.
"The gay? What is the gay?" Asked Mrs. Squires.
"When you love the honey boo-boo child of the same gender. Don't deny it, Squares, we all know it's true." I informed her on the topic. Jacey looked at the ground. I hoped he was okay,
"I love the honey boo-boo child of the female gender, but I had no idea there was a name for this extracurricular activity! Do you and my ex partake in the gay as well?"
"Aw, naw, well, I do, but Jacey has not stated his level of partaking just yet." I said as I put my hand on Jacey's shoulder in a creepy manner.
Jacey's eyes met mine, and in that brief second, I knew. He partook in the gay. Level 69. Or maybe 666. Or perhaps even 6669.
And that gave me hope. It would all work itself out, jeely cly!
