Inside the kitchen of an old suburban bungalow lays a young corpulent man toiling under the sink. With his trusty wrench, he toils with the steel pipes making sure the common household machine properly fulfills its duty.
While he works, an old lady inches into the kitchen and appraises the plumber’s amazing performance. “My, such a lovely new sink!,” she expresses with great delight, ”I really appreciate your service young man.”
“Awh it aint nutin maam; Jus’ doin’ mah job,” gloats the man as he rubs under his nose with one finger.
“Goodness, look at all that sweat. You’ve must’ve been working quite hard Clemence.”
“It’s Cletus ma’am…”
“Oho yes, pardon me. My memory isn’t too fresh these days. Care for anything to drink; some lemonade or tea perhaps?”
“Naw, Ah ‘ppreciate it miss… but.. urrh!,” he uses all his strength to tighten the pipe, “Ah’m dandy,” then wipes his forehead with his back hand. “Hewww!”
“Oh, alright; try not to strain yourself now. I’ll be upstairs if you need anything.” The old lady slowly exits the kitchen.
Not too long after her departure, Cletus’s cellphone vibrates in his pocket. He sets his wrench to the side, pulls out his phone, and sees that it’s you, [INSERT YOUR NAME HERE], calling. He presses confirm, holds it up to his ear, and grabs his wrench again to continue working. “Ee’ello.”
“Hey dair Clee! How’s mah tough lil’ bubba doin?”
“Ah’m fairin’ quite fine. Hire yew comin’ long?”
Back at home, you can be found slouching lazily upon the far end of an old stained couch. Some fabric of your right sock had torn awhile ago as it could no longer sustain your massive foot. Your grubby big toe obtrudes from the sock rupture as you rest your feet atop the trash-filled table. A sizable plastic bowl loaded with cheap potato chips firmly situates on top of your pot belly. Completing your set-up lays a cold glass bottle of whiskey on a grimy stand-up tray next to you. ”Awwh , ah ain’t doin’ much. Jus’ sittin’ here grubbin’ on sum taters; watchin’ sum wrestlin’.” You grab a handful of chips and shove it down your mouth. Cletus could hear your raucous crunching through the phone. “Hey man, ya happn ta know where ah put mah Cowboy Hat at?” you ask as you chew.
"Didn’tcha tell me ya put it in yer locker?”
“Ah did? Um, what Locker?”
Cletus stops and realizes you probably had forgotten about school now. “Aw shucks, never-mind; ah’m thinkin’ bout sumthin’ else.” To test his theory and to know how much you’re progressing, he asks you, “Say, how old’er yew ‘igin big b’.”
“Dernit bubba, why yew ahways be forgettin’ bout mah age…?,” you ask disappointingly.
“Quit yer bellyachin’ n jus’ tell me.”
“Fine fine, ah’m uh...” You paused for a quick second trying to think. “Damn, ah’m… Oh yeah, ah’m 29 years old. ‘Scuse mahself fer a spell.” You grab the glass bottle next to you and chug the cold whiskey down your throat. You swipe your mouth before slamming the glass back on the tray. “Ah want ‘sumthin real spiffy fer mah birthday heer?” Just afterward, a deep-sounding belch escapes your mouth and through the phone.
“Uh huh, ah know.” Just 3 more years (or a couple of hours in your case) until you reach 32; the same age as his brother just before his unfortunate death. Cletus could only imagine how you must look right now and could feel his junk stiffen at the thought. He couldn’t wait to return home and be at your side. Cletus then hears a loud beeping noise on his phone. “Hey, ah gotta git gone now. Someone’s on mah other line.”
“Well ahrighty, I’ll see ya in a little bits. Love ya lil’ b.”
“Heheh. Love ya to big b. Bye.”
Cletus drops his wrench, takes his phone off his shoulder, and flashes it over to the other line. He then holds it up to his ear again and says, “Ee’ello.”
"YOU BLUMBERIN’ IDIOT!! WHY CAN CHEW DO AN’THING RIGHT!?”
Cletus instantly springs to attention and rams his head against the hard pipe. He hisses in pain and frantically scoots out from under the kitchen sink. “Max! Wh-whas wrong!? What I do!?”
“Yew gon’ n lose mah special chaw; that’s what!!,” yells Maxwell.
Upon hearing that, Cletus instantly knew Lester must’ve snitched about it. “Hey, it wasn’t mah fault!”
“Ah don’t give a rats shit who fault it is! YER tha one ssposed ta keep it!” Maxwell grunts from frustration. “Be grateful you’re mah bes’ bud’s boy, else ah’d ride yer husky ass out!”
Maxwell’s voice was louder than usual. Cletus moves the phone away and cleans his ears. “Don’t fret, ah’ll go look fer it on tha double ahright?”
“That ain’t necessary. Luckily for you, we’s got ourselves sum younguns here who may came ‘cross it.”
“Who?”
“Psh, ah don’t know, but ah’m ‘fin ta find out. One of dem poor fellas gon’ n tried sum to. Enough ‘bout that though, jus’ haul yer ass and bring the rest o’ mah money hear!?”
Maxwell then breaks the line without saying bye. Cletus gravely leers at the phone in his hand and worries about the situation. Not long after, the old lady comes slowly walking down stairs and into the kitchen. “Oh Clinton, did something happen? I heard someone yelling.”
Cletus grabs his wrench, gets up, and brushes himself off. “Ah do ‘pologize ‘bout this, but yer gon’ have ta ‘scuse mahself ma’am. Sumthin’… um… real sudden jus’ came up…”
“But what about my sink?”
“Yer sink’s fine and rearin’ ta go ma’am. Ah wouldn’t switch on that garbage spenser (dispenser) though. Ah’ll come back in tha mornin’ an’ finish things up free o’ charge. How’s dat sound?”
“Oh that’s fine. Thank you so much again young man. Would you mind if I pay tomorrow then as well?"
“Not at all missus. Ah’ll be rounds here ‘bout tha same time.” Cletus reaches down his shirt pocket, pulls out a card, and hands it to the old woman. “’Rmember ma’am, Stanley Bros. Plumbin’ service is ahways here ta help.” He bends down and grabs all of his stuff. “Give mahself or mah bro a ring if’n ya need sumthin’.”
“Hmhm, alright. I bet your brother’s just as handsome as you are.”
Cletus felt a little queasy hearing that come from an old lady. “Yeah uh… thanks miss. Ah gotta git gone.” He then walks through the living room and out the front door.
On the porch, the old lady stands and waves goodbye. “Bye! Be careful on the road.”
Cletus throws his stuff in the truck and waves as he gets inside. He then starts it up and hurries his way towards The Trinity Crown.
---------------------------------------------------
Back at the bar, C.J. and Mark grew increasingly worrisome about their friend Isaiah and his situation. Deciding enough is enough, Mark gets up and confronts Danny, the large brute from their earlier confrontation.
“Move!” yells Mark as he attempts to bypass Danny.
Danny says nothing and continues to block his path.
“Look, could we at least use a phone to call his parents or something?”
With his hand, Danny signals to stop and shakes his head no.
“Ugh, screw this shit! Let’s go and get the police C.J.!”
Danny quickly holds Mark back and prevents his escape. “Get off!! Let me go!” yells the teen as he kicks and squirms.
Mikey, the guy who aided their friend not too long ago, appears behind Danny and motions him and C.J. to follow him. Danny, being as strong as he is, lifts Mark on his shoulders and trails the brute down the wooden hallway while C.J. follows suite. They arrive in a room where inside lies only a wide timber bed, a lantern lamp on a table, a ceiling fan, and a condom dispenser. The room is also without windows and contains many bear memorabilia hanging against the wall. Danny tosses Mark on the bed while Mikey nudges C.J. in and locks the door behind them.
“What the fuck!?” yells Mark just before Danny covers his mouth and motions him to quiet down.
C.J. inches around the room and views the surronding. “So I’m guessing this is one of those rooms where you guys conduct your “business” huh?”
Mikey crosses his arms and leans against the door. “Don’t get the wrong idea son. We’re just gonna ask you a few questions. First off, why you kids all the way out here in the first place?”
C.J. turns his head at Mark for a bit before turning his head back. “We came searching for some info about our “missing” friend [INSERT YOUR NAME HERE]. Before he disappeared, a guy we believe to be involved dropped this can of tobacco in our school restroom.” C.J. pulls it out, shows it to the bears, and tosses it on the bed. “We recognized the logo on the can, pulled some information, and happen to find out about this place.”
“That it?” asks Mikey.
“Yes.”
Mikey shuts his eyes and sighs. “Y’know, you’re pretty bad at hiding things son. I ain’t too fond of liars.”
“…”
Mikey walks up to C.J, places his hand on his shoulder, and smiles generously. “Hey, I know ya might be a lil’ scared and all, but just tell us the truth; alright?”
C.J. senses a strong glimmer of kindness in Mikey’s eyes. He’s not sure why, but he feels he can trust this guy. He tilts his head down and takes a deep breath. “Well alright. To be honest, our friend we’re looking for isn’t really missing. I... happen to learn that the guy who dropped this can turned out to be our friend [INSERT YOUR NAME HERE]. However, he’s not the same guy I once knew.
“Not the same guy eh?”
“Um, you probably won’t believe me, but I think one of our schoolmates named Cletus somehow changed him into becoming a country hic just like him!” C.J continues on about your current predicament with the police and the real reason why he came to this bar.
Upon hearing C.J.’s confession, Mark grows angry and shoves Danny’s large hand off of his mouth. “So wait, you brought us all the way out here just cause you still think that damn redneck is [INSERT YOUR NAME HERE]!? Dude, you’ve lost it!! NO ONE can change into something THAT different in such a short amount of time! Hell, I thought even you would get that by now!”
“Oh alright, then explain to me what happened to Isaiah…”
“Well… that’s--!”
“He was fine a couple of hours ago; now he’s acting like some crazed drug addict. And let’s not forget how he managed to muster up enough strength to knock you AND this big guy off of him at the same time!”
Mark groaned and turned away. “Psh, whatever; you keep thinking that. It’s all bullshit and you know it man…”
Mike taps C.J. on his shoulder. “Hey, lemme see that can you have there son,” he asks. C.J. hands it over and Mike begins to examine it closely. “Hmm… Y’know kid, I believe that story of yours to the t. Danny over there also underwent a change as well.”
“Wait. So you’re saying I’m right?”
“Yep. Danny there wasn’t always that big scary lug you see now. Just last week he was a real scrawny young fella like y’all; ain’t that right?”
Danny blushes and scratches the back of his head.
Mark couldn’t believe what he’s hearing. “Ha! I can’t believe this.”
“Well believe it kid. There’s some real STRANGE stuff in this can. I’ve seen Danny’s transformation first hand and boy, lemme tell ya, it's the most bizarre thing I’ve seen in my life.” Mike tightly clutches the can of chaw in his hand. “To tell ya the truth, I think things like this shouldn’t exist in this world. I hate to say it, but it looks like your friend is also gonna change as well.”
“Over my dead body!” C.J. tries to shove Mike out of the way, but Mike easily clutches on to him.
“Hold your horses son. It’s too dangerous for you kids to go back there!”
“You think I’m going to sit here and wait as they change my friend into some gay redneck!?”
“I know, that’s why I’m saying I’ll go with ya. Like I said before, things like this shouldn’t exist. So I’ve made up my mind and decided I’m gonna to go trash the stuff. We’ll save your friend to!”
C.J. flicks his head towards Danny. “But what about him?”
“Ah Danny? Shoot, I’m sure he doesn’t mind helping out. Right?”
Mike gives Danny a certain look and Danny instantly agrees to help.
“I appreciate you 2,” expresses C.J. “You ready Mark?”
Mark pauses for a bit. “I’m sorry but this is WAY out of our league man. Shouldn’t we go tell the police?”
“By the time we find an officer way out here, it may be too late for both of your friends,” claims Mike.
C.J agrees. “He’s right Mark. There’s no time.”
“But...-” Mark closes his eyes, shakes his head, and sighs. “Alright whatever man. Let’s go.”
And with that, the four man band courageously exit the room and heads towards the back compound. Will they manage to save Isaiah, or will it be too late? Tell next time.