INT. – DAY
The Feath is preparing to shower before a matinee at Mixed Magic Theatre. Having turned on the water and stepped into the shower, she realizes she’s forgotten her shower combs. She calls out to Jon who is in the kitchen revising a blog submission.
Jon, unable to make out what it is that The Feath needs, goes to the bathroom door and opens it.
THE FEATH: Can you get my white girl brush and my Black girl brush?
Jon retreats to get the brushes. The Feath steps into the shower.
I told you it was only a matter of time before the buddy cop movie starring myself and Kriss from Insanity Report surfaced. This is Part I.
INT. – NIGHT
Detectives Pitts-Wiley and Kriss pore over case files. The humidity in the room is stifling, but they continue to rifle through dossiers, newspaper clippings and photos. Both look as though they haven’t slept much in the last few days. Ties loosened, they dangle about the necks as though the gallows call. Perhaps it does. This case isn’t like that others. There’s a wrinkle they know they’re missing. But both Kriss and Pitts-Wiley are determined. They know the Tiger Woods press conference is a career bust and they can’t let it slip through their fingers. Suddenly Kriss slams down a folder. He’s fed up. Read the rest of this entry »
Above we see The Franchise, aka The First of the Mohicans, poppin’ off at the mouth, proving the child is indeed mine.
In recent weeks, The Feath and I have taken to calling the kid Juice or Juicy Fruit, not merely because I’m like Diddy with these monikers, but also because home skillet starts gettin’ buck every time The Feath drinks juice.
But what kind of skillet is Juice? A he or a she?
Let’s allow Prince Rogers Nelson to croon a bit
Could you be
The most beautiful girl in the world?
Plain to see
You’re the reason that God made a girl
So, there you have it.
And, in honor of my unborn child, a song which she will be convinced is a nursery rhyme until she becomes the wiser and feels mildly ashamed of her father.