Honeyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!

The day started out just like any morning. I woke up, checked my mail and then I headed off to the shower. It was then that things started to bad.

“Honeyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!” I screamed from the bedroom.

“What?!” my wife poked her head through the doorway to find me holding and staring at my shampoo bottle and my deodorant stick.

“They went too far this time! Too fucking far,” I said while shaking my hands at her.

“Who did?”

“Look at this!” I told her, as I handed over my shampoo bottle and my deodorant stick.

“Okay. Why am I holding your shampoo and your deodorant?”

“Don’t you see woman?! THEY’RE BOTH EMPTY!”

“So?”

“AT THE SAME TIME!?!?”

*SIGH* “Do you have a point? Because the chicken’s burning.”

“Fuck the chicken! And no, I’m not talking about what I did last Christmas. I was drunk dammit, drop it! I mean the neighbors emptied my shampoo and used up my deodorant stick! Once again, our neighbors have slapped our faces with the gauntlet of un-awesomeness.”

“Pau, for the last time, our neighbors don’t have a secret passageway to our place,” my wife sighed while picking up most of the sharp objects within my reach and putting them under our bed. “And even if they did, why would they go through the trouble just to use up your shampoo and deodorant stick?

“U-huh, you do have a point. Except for the fact that our neighbors are totally evil! And Korean! And you are always wrong. Being a woman and all.”

I brushed past my wife and headed straight for the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers as my wife vainly tried to reason with me.

“Pau, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Aren’t you getting sick of running out of shampoo and deodorant when you least expect it?” By this time I had 5 pieces of eggplant, 3 cans of SPAM, an old T-Shirt I wore yesterday, and a lot of other things that I never cared to learn the names of.

“What? No. You’re talking crazy again. Haven’t you ever considered the fact that maybe you just have a huge head?” she asked hopefully.

“That’s what your mom said. Booyah!”

“Please Pau, whatever it is you’re doing, please stop. You scared away the rest of the tenants in our floor, and the Quongs next door are the only neighbors we’ve got. I need to talk to other people aside from yo—”

“Be quiet woman! I will no longer suffer their insults and torture. We have been nothing but good neighbors to them. Not to mention we dedicated our whole lives to being non-Koreans. But does that encourage them to stop being Korean?! Hell no! This means war!”

“But Pau, you’ve already declared war on them. Remember when you stuck your CD player up their dog’s ass?”

“It would play ‘Who Let The Dogs Out?’ every time the dog farted,” I giggled. My wife continued to reason with me. Then she started begging. Maybe there were tears as she started to pull out her hair in clumps, but I didn’t notice. I was too busy mixing together all of the things I collected in my cauldron which I specifically ordered for an occasion such as this. Somewhere in the mixture, I spot my pair of Wizard of Oz ruby red slippers which I thought I lost during the robot wars.

“Pau, I don’t know what you’re doing. And as always, I don’t want to know, but please, in the name of all that’s good and Holy, I ask you to—-WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GET A WIZARD’S ROBE?! AND HOW WERE YOU ABLE TO CHANGE INTO IT RIGHT BEFORE MY EYES?….AND WHERE ARE YOUR PANTS?!”

Ignoring her, I continued mixing my concoction while muttering the age old incantation passed down to me by the wisest of all philosophers:

“You don’t want no drama,
No, no drama, no, no, no, no drama.”

By the 96th repetition of my mantra, the mixture started to swell and spew smoke. It rose up three feet and swayed from left to right. As it started to shake, my wife started to scream. By the time the mixture reached the ceiling, my wife passed out in the middle of the kitchen floor. Too bad she wasn’t able to see my creation spew out what can only be described as a penis. As I stared at the 18-inch monstrosity, I can’t help but marvel at how it was exactly a third of the actual size of MY penis.

“GAZE UPON MY CREATION! BEHOLD! A SATAN!” I shouted over the deafening roar which seemed to come out from the Satan’s penis. The sound was reaching critical levels and the ground began to shake. For some reason, things began flying around; most of them dangerously close to my face.

The last thing I remember before our flying toaster hit me on the head which caused me to black out was my Satan exploding and our front door flying off its hinges.

EPILOGUE

Thank Lord Satan (the real one, not my culinary concoction), nobody was hurt. My wife and I woke up from our coma 3 days later. And approximately 36 kilometers from our home. We were surprised that the Quongs were uncharacteristically kind and helpful in nursing is back to health.

Apparently, when My Satan exploded, their dog proceeded to eat what was left of it. This prompted a diarrhea attack which made it shit out the CD player I stuck in there. The Quongs assumed that my concoction drove out the evil spirits which were making their dog’s ass sing and they credited me as their savior.

We’ve since made amends and I realized they really had nothing to do with my disappearing shampoo and deodorant stick. Go figure.

Anyway, we’re having them for dinner tonight. Guess what I’m serving?

Fig 1. What was left of my SATAN