Mr. Whitfield- By: Riley Rivers

Chapter XIX

"Hey, Nate. I never thought I would be saying this but, I cheated on you." Candice frowned on the phone.
"What?! Candice what did-"
"I'm sorry.
"You cheated on me?!"
"Yes, I'm sorry."
"With whom did you cheat with?"
"I cheated on you with Patrick."
"I'll cut his ******* **** off! Where's the whore?"
"He left this morning, he had to run some errands."
"Did you-"
"Did I what?"
"Did you ****?"
"Why should I tell you? We're not dating anymore!" Candice hung up and Nate wailed on his pillow. His father stepped into the room and asked what was going on.
"Dad!" Nate hugged him and sobbed into his shirt.
"Let me guess..."
"She broke up with me after she freaking cheated on me."
"Asshole. Don't worry there's a queen out there calling your name."
"Really?"
"I'm 100% positive."
"Thanks, Dad."
"Don't thank me, thank life."
"I can't believe I lost my virginity to that-that monster!"
"It's okay, no one is judging you."
"I know, but that devil! I bet that boy put his **** up her ass."
"Yeah, because how else would she be an asshole?"
"Yeah, right?"
"Right."
"Ugh, and I loved that bitch."
"What do you say we pay this Patrick character a visit? How about it?"
"Hmm... I don't know. Maybe he should meet us here..."
Candice left Nathaniel Lee Whitfield a message on the phone and he rose hell when he found out his ex-girlfriend got pregnant from that stupid ass Patrick.
"What's wrong, son?"
"That stupid ass got my girlfriend pregnant. Dumb asshole! Ergh!" He balled up his fists and punched a hole through his wooden door. He pulled his fist back and it was covered in blood and splinters. "Oh ****! Damn it, I'm bleeding now."
"Sh*t Nate!"
"What my hand or-"
"Both. I have an idea of what we can do to that little sucker-head."
"Ooo! What did you have in mind?"
"I say we egg him."
"Or we could chop his-"
"No. It wouldn't do any good now, she's already pregnant."
"Damn, that's true."
"Let's egg him."
"At his house or here? Maybe we should ding-dong ditch him and then smack a pie in his face!"
"Oooo! I like that idea a hell of a lot better than my idea. I'll bake a pie."
"He's probably allergic to nuts."
"So, we'll give him a peanut butter and nut pie!"
"I really don't want to be the cause of why he has to go to the hospital, Dad. I'd feel dumber than soup and I don't want Candice to know why I did it either."
"Fine, we'll make a cream pie..." Jesse groaned with a sigh.
"Technically we could just get some whipped cream and make on easy peasy, lemon squeezy."
"Touché."
"Let's do it! Then we'll take it to him and shove it in his face."
"How are we going to throw it at his face without being seen?"
"Let's just say I have a good friend who I can turn into a nice catapult."
"Your robot? But you have to keep him as a robot for robotics."
"No, I don't. I just have to have something that is wired and engineered by good old me."
"Do you need a screwdriver and some new wires?"
"Nope, I already got it covered." Nate snickered fiendishly as he unscrewed the robot's bolts.
"Do you need anything at all?"
"Some blueprints and a Lime-Up would be grand."
"I'll get you a Lime-Up and I'll start working on the blueprints," Jesse said, going into the kitchen to grab his son a drink.
"Thanks, Dad." He smiled and continued taking apart his robot little by little.
"Ok, let's see. A catapult has a spoon or something to launch, then it has to be wired here to release the object. Okay. Uh-huh, that looks pretty snazzy. Alright, I'm done with these blueprints, now I just have to give them to my son. Whoops almost forgot his Lime-Up." He grabbed the Lime-Up and walked into his son's room.
"Where are the blueprints?"
"Here they are." Mr. Whitfield handed him the blueprints and he looked them over.
"Ok and last but not least my Lime-Up."
"Here ya go."
"Thanks." Nate opened the Lime-Up and chugged it down in seconds. He belched and crushed the can against his head. "Here, now go get me another."
"Damn! I had to chug milk but I never chugged it that fast."
"Was it good?"
"No, it tasted like sh*t."
"Are you being facetious?"
"Hell naw! It did taste like sh*t."
"How do you know what that tastes like?"
"Alright smartass, you try the next curdled milk you find and see if it does not taste like sh*t."
"Ok, I will."
"How's the thingamabob coming along?"
"The catapult?"
"Yeah, yeah whatever."
"It's coming along pretty good. You made a very snazzy model. A nice 1700 B.C. one."
"Oh that's the model I made, I thought it looked familiar. You'll need to wire this here though for it to-"
"I got it, Dad. I know what I have to do."
"Ok, I was just letting you know you had to wire that for it to work."
"I know. You go work on the pie and by the time you get done I should hopefully be done."
"Ok."
"Oh and get me a Lime-Up while you're at it."
"You don't need another soda."
"It's caffeine-free."
"Yeah, right. It has a hell of a lot of caffeine."
"No, it doesn't."
"Yes, it does."
"It does not!"
"It does too!"
"Ergh!"
"Agh!"
"This never would have happened in the first place if you wouldn't have interrupted me and Candice when we were having sex!"
"**** Candice! It still could have happened."
"It would have been a one in a millionth chance, father."
"Maybe you shouldn't have banged her in the first place. Ever thought about that? I think I'll let that soak into your brain awhile..." Jesse shut his son's bedroom door and fixed the pie. ******* dumbass... He scoffed and grabbed the whipped cream.
"Hmm... It sounds like he's right. Hell no he's not right! Is he? No, he can't be right. Could he? **** no! There is no way in goddamn ******* hell he's right! There is absolutely no ******* way possible." He wrote on his chalk-board and growled frustratedly. Damn, he is right! Sh*t.
Jesse was busily making the pie when he heard his son yell in vexation. He chuckled and figured his son was angry that his father was finally right for once. Mr. Whitfield placed the pie on the table and walked in his son's room with a totally vainglorious attitude."I'm right aren't I?"
"Go to ******* hell, Dad!"
"You're just mad I'm right. And you know I'm right."
"Just shut the hell up!"
"You're wrong, I'm right." Nate's father boasted.
"I told you to shut up."
"Admit it and accept it."
"What?"
"I said admit I'm right and accept it."
"No."
"If you admit it you'll feel better."
"No, the hell I won't."
"Yes, you will."
"Don't make me say it."
"Say what?"
"You know I'm going to say it."
"Say what?"
"You're making me boil."
"Turn the stove off then." He joked.
"I'm going to say it in three-"
Jesse gasped realizing what he was going to say. "Don't you dare!"
"Two-"
"Nathaniel Lee! You say it and you're grounded."
"One. Go **** yourself! You mother ******* jackass, ****-faced whore! **** you, **** you, **** you and your family. **** all of them: whores and all!" Nate screamed.
"That's it, you're grounded, mister! You crossed a huge boundary of mine and once you cross it you don't get a ticket out." Mr. Whitfield bawled in his hands and wiped his tears, still sniffling. "You know about my very crappy childhood and atrocious father. I told you about how he chastised me every day I came home and how plastered he always was. You know my childhood was very inconsolable, so I don't understand why you would want to bring up those damn emotions. Go to your room now!"
"Dad, I never meant to-"
"Why did you say it, why?"
"I didn't mean that I-I-I'm sorry."
"You can take back the hurt that has already happened. Until you learn a lesson I'm leaving."
"I learned my lesson, Dad I'm sorry."
"You don't learn a lesson that quick, goodbye Nate."
"But, Dad I'm really-"
"I bet you hope I die in the cold. I hope I do, so I don't have to live with seeing your face again."
"No, Dad! Don't take it that far, please."
"So long Nate. The only thing that shall accompany me is this Glock right here." He held the pistol he bought from a thug in the alley.
"Dad, don't go off and kill yourself!" Nathaniel Lee Whitfield begged and with that Jesse left out the door.