Life Outside PLT1

SON OF WANG : Part 1

March 16, 2006 on 3:02 pm | In Wang | | Sicopath

The weather did not look down mercifully the day I left to visit my father in hospital. The thunderstorm drew lines down my face where water seeped through the holes in my shitty umbrella; it belonged to my dad who used to repeatedly tell me “don’t you dare lose that umbrella; I once killed a man who tried to take it from me. That’s not just an umbrella, it’s a trophy.” How ironic it is that such past misadventures have brought their VENGEANCE upon him. Years of pelvic abuse, using his pocket rocket as a tool for execution of social JUSTICE have landed him in hospital with an injured wang, how HEROIC.

From the parking lot, to the waiting room, to the front desk; each step squished on my wet shoes and squeaked upon contact of wet rubber to waxy hospital floor.

“I’m here for a visit; the patient is here with a, err… Pelvic trouble”

The receptionist seemed unimpressed with my talent for devising euphemism;

“Injured wang” I said.
“Oh, I know the one. Your relation to the patient?”
“Son.”

Once inside the room, a nurse opened the curtains of my father’s chamber.

“Turn off the lights”
Said the voice from the bed from behind the green fabric screen.
“They’re not lights, it’s daytime. Idiot”
“BULLSHIT! YOU TELL LIES, YOU FILTHY- Oh, you’re right.”

With that, the nurse left the room.

“Dad?”
“YEAH SON, WHAT’S UP?”
Crude words; coming from an insane parent who rudely awoke to a visitor call.
“Not your wang, that’s for sure”
“BULLSHIT! ME AND THAT NURSE WERE JUST ABOUT TO PORK.”

Unfortunately, he speaks loudly enough to be heard from the next room.

“We are not going to pork”
A hilarious and discouraging reply; I make a mental note to get that nurse’s number when I leave.
“You were saying? ‘Father?’”

I always spoke the word “father” with such venomous overtones; as a child it was made clear to me that I was adopted. Instances such as the occurrences of the present made me feel glad for it.

“Nothing really, I asked you to come around to tell you something about the family.”
He seemed to have calmed down.
“What about the family?”
“You’re about to achieve your family heritage”
“Heritage? What exactly do you mean by that?”
“Our bloodline, you fuck. Our family is descended from the great Wanglorr; first among disciples to the glorious and fruitful wang god!”
“Oh, for pete’s sake-“
“SHUT UP BOY! This is serious, the gift of the wang god to Wanglorr is this; that any male child descended of his bloodline shall, when his father reaches the age of 30, receive ‘the embiggening’”
“Embiggening? What the fuck?”
“You know, I turn 30 this afternoon, boy”
“Oh yeah, shit; happy birthday you wangless old fuck”
“I GOT A WANG YOU DUMBASS LITTLE SHIT! AND AS SOON AS YOU LEAVE, ME AND THAT NURSE ARE GOING TO PORK!”

Once again, from the other room;
“We are not going to pork.”

Unphased, my father continued to speak;

“The embiggening, boy, is this: for the next 5 days you will wake up with a wang larger than before. Until finally; it’s as thick as a basketball and longer than a golf club.”
“Well, that’s all good and well ‘dad’; but I’m not of the bloodline you spoke of. I’m adopted, remember?”
Good god, who didn’t see that response coming from a mile away?
“Nah that was just a lie I told you because you’re a worthless son and I hate you”
Shocker.
“You mean… We’re related? For… Real?”
“YA RLY”

I paused for a moment, stunned into silence by the heavy news that had just dropped onto me. That man sitting before me wearing a derogatory t-shirt over his hospital gown, with a gigantic tubular thing emerging from his pelvis, covered in soiled bandages… My father…

“FUCK!”