Secondhand Girlfriend

.10

"Just decapitate me," I say as I walk into Chandler's backyard.

I had finally decided that it was time that I pay for my crime, so I'd driven to Chandler's early this afternoon to do it. But now that I'm seeing the pin, getting beheaded is looking better by the second. You could smell how bad it was from across the yard, and I nearly had to clean up my own throw up. King is a lovely pitbull with grey and white fur, but he is nuisance when it comes to cleaning up after him. He shits practically everywhere, he sheds like nobody's business, and his food is always spilled.

"Look at it this way, if you consistently clean, then it will stay clean the whole week," Chandler laughs, clapping me on my shoulder.

"Fuck off, Queen," I grunt, hauling the cleaning supplies over my shoulder and to the gated pin.

Laughing loudly, Chandler shakes her head as she walks back to post herself on the back porch. Wonderful, now I have an audience to watch me clean up shit. I begin the grueling process with a frown on my face, but think about how worth it that night ended for me. My glamorous McDonald's date with Lisanna, signified the point of no return for me, because from that moment on I just kept falling for her.

I wrinkle my nose a particularly fresh piece of excretion, and go to pick it up with a bag only to find that is it soft. Screaming at the top of my lungs, I drop the bag over the pile and hold my arm at the elbow as I flail my hand about. That is so disgusting, I don't want to clean this anymore, I want my mommy. Chandler's laugh carries from the porch to my ears, and I raise my hand as I flip her off. There is a special place in hell for her, right next to that clown that blew cigarette smoke in my face on my fifth birthday; which consequently gave me a deeply rooted fear and hatred of clowns.

I don't know what posesed my father to buy me a clown for my birthday, or why he thought a clown would make me happy but he got one anyway. Three ways you could tell this clown was bogus: 1) he didn't wear any face make up, just a plain scruffy white face 2) all of his tricks were half assed, and ended with him spraying a kid in the face with a water squirter 3) he smoked almost every chance he got, of course it was when my parents weren't looking. My fifth birthday was a nightmare, and after that I told my parents no more birthday parties for me. Of course I really just meant no more clowns, and I think they agreed.

"Working hard, Floptop," a masculine voice calls.

My head snaps in the direction of the voice, and my eyes narrow as I see Wyatt settle himself into a chair next to Chandler. I hate both of them, both of them are going to hell in a handbasket topped with a red bow.

"Fuck off, Breadboy," I yell, tossing the bag of feces onto the pile.

"Do you want a break," Chandler calls.

"Yes! I've been doing this for two hours."

"Well ain't that too bad, dance monkey."

My jaw falls open at this, and I just stand there staring at the blonde. Wyatt looks just as frazzled as I am, she just said that, what the hell. Looking torn between being insulted and wanting to laugh, Wyatt just stands up to walk inside the house. He comes back out a few minutes later, and I still haven't closed my mouth yet. Silently returning to his seat, he holds up a thumb and I close my mouth as I smile.

"Queen, I think you would have been baking cakes for a week," I laugh as I kneel down to fix the food bowl.

"And get flour under my nails, I don't think so," she shakes her head.

I could feel Wyatt roll his eyes as I also rolled my own, she picks and choices her feminine moments. Barking is heard inside the house, and then it gets closer as I realise that King is coming. Hurriedly, I dump fresh food into his bowl, then move to shove the small bags of poop into a bigger bag. There are so many of them, why does this dog shit so much? Throwing the last poop bag inside the other, I tie the larger bag closed and rush out of the pin just as King comes bounding outside. King heads straight for the open door of his pin, attacking his food maliciously then moving to a far corner to use the bathroom. Great more soft shit I have to clean up.