Mari

My family do not get depressed when life kicks us in the soft and delicates. We get harder, meaner and after ma, Ro and Lizzie came down-this was after I started screaming at the top of my lungs and papa had grabbed me to save his flatscreen T.V-well, I have got to say that no way, no how, not in this lifetime will anyone terrify me as thoroughly as these three did when they pressed rewind and made me see that travesty all over again.

They took in his smile, his naked chest gleaming in the water, that hookers million dollar body and an ass so freaking hot I want to kill myself for wondering what it feels like…so wrong.

Ma got real quiet, never a good sign because I’m pretty sure she has some sort of family relation to the Boston bomber and they say that asshole was plain squirrely. Ma’s quiet is a sign of Armageddon, or what I assume others will identify as the end of times, later, after half the city is gone.

Ro’s eyes just tensed. They didn’t stretch, narrow or nothing, just went completely tense like dead person eyes and stayed that way while she sucked at her teeth.

Lizzie, God help us all, she turned to me and smiled! And I saw pure malice there, darkness and maybe I heard the scream of baby bunnies.

Me. I burst into ugly, wracking sobs that made my face go long and probably distorts me so badly I look like a melting candle as I wail like a civilian with actual emotions.

“Mamaaaa.”

“Hush, punkin. I’m sure it’s just a misrepresentation,” Papa croons, pulling me in for some comfort.

Ma? Her red eye goes sliver thin as they pause the T.V and take in every single nuance of the scene, inspecting it like professionals.

I’m pretty positive they’re planning a murder. Double homicide right now, something I would so be in on if not for the fact that I feel…strange. So wrong and foreign. And then it hits me.

I have a heart and this asshole just bust it wide open!

“Now, Mari, don’t rile yourself up before the little shit explains.”

“Suck it, Mitchell! He can explain while we’re breaking his kneecaps.”

Go Lizzie.

That’s when the phone rings, breaking me out of my stupor, because dammit of course I’m stunned, I just discovered I’m part human after all and that crap is scary.

I lunge for the phone on the third ring and snatch it up as the three fire sporting demons dive my way, yanking the phone from me to hit speaker.

“We’ll boil those nuts Mari.” Ing.

“Toenails. They say ripping those suckers hurts the most.” Rox.

“I’m so sorry!” Ginny wails last, making me grin because not a second later she’s right there with everyone, throwing out some truly gruesome torture techniques that make even Lizzie shudder and shake her head.

“Ginny Egan George, where have you gotten these ideas from. Jesus save you, I told you to go to church you little devil!”

“Can it ma! This is battle stations. Time for the pain game. Time for-”

I see Lizzie lose some steam and share a look with the Ro’s when they realize that their seed may just be worse than they are and it frightens them just a little.

It would be funny, I would so laugh because come on, seeing the ma’s a little twitchy and afraid is a once in a lifetime thing, a fluke, like rare as hell, but all I feel is numb as I shake my head and just give up.

I give up.

“Leave him alone.”

“Mari-”

“I’m serious girls and demon mistresses from hell better known as our mothers. Just leave him alone. From here on out we do not speak his name, we do not think about him, we do not do a thing.”

You think I’m being kind here? That he broke me? Okay well maybe he did a little but that is not the point. The point is, this, what I’m doing right here is so much worse because trust me, you ain’t never felt pain until the family gives you the freeze out and treats you like scum of the dingleberry variety.

Just ask Finnola, my second cousin twice removed. She had a baby out of wedlock and considered-gasp, shock horror!-adoption. In this crew…as ma once told me, ‘we look after our own Mari. If your brothers and their wives can keep their ugly ass kids and look at those faces on a daily basis, that little tramp can bite the bullet and save her soul from eternal damnation and raise her child!’

Don’t ask, I still don’t get how they associate adoption with hell and damnation, but mostly because I can’t stop laughing at the first part of that statement-Glorietta is the poster child for sacrifice at this point. But anyway.

Lizzie eyes me askance for all of two seconds before that evil mouth curves into a grin and I even hear Ginny let out a ‘hooboy’.

And then it’s pandemonium as they all grabbed their mobiles and start something that will make Grayson George wish he’d never been born. The mafia uses blowtorches and pliers, the military uses bombs and Donald Trump just uses his orange glow to bring the pain.

We’re hard core.

We use the phone tree.

*********************

Gray

I’m in misery.

I haven’t seen my very pregnant, very pissed off wife in over a month and to hear Blay snarl it at me, I won’t be seeing her ever again unless I want six hundred pounds of combined redhead using rusty scissors to chop off my balls.

So here’s where I’m at and before you go sniffing for those scissors just hear me out okay. I went away for work, to close a deal and buy this hotel that’s located on some prime beachfront property but needs renovation and rebranding to start turning a profit.

I worked my ass off for weeks and got in sixteen hour days closing that bitch and trust me, it was a bitch to close because the man who owns that hotel also happened to be the father of a woman I dated way back when.

Sissy Conroy.

Who told her family I left her broken hearted instead of admitting to her own shortcomings in that relationship-

But I digress! The point is I was exhausted, homesick and missing on my Mari so much that I couldn’t even jerk off with the panties I stole out of the laundry hamper before I left because it made me sad and weepy when the scent of her disappeared.

The long and short of it is simple. The one day I got out of a meeting early I went down to the beach and planned to swim myself into a coma and actually get some sleep for once.

I shudder just thinking it, but the truth is that I have officially become a little pussy, whipped to within an inch of my miserable existence because I have discovered I can’t live a decent day without Mari by my side, trying to bite me or remove what is left of my balls.

My friends and family would laugh their asses off and if Mari ever found out I am so whipped for her she’d make my life a living hell, probably take out an ad telling the world what a pussy I am.

So yeah, I took a break, went to the beach and wham! I got snatch tackled by a hundred and twenty pounds of lesbian in the closet. Yup, Sissy is a total lesbian, an anti-cock sister of the modern era who is terrified of telling her parents she prefers hairy taco to beef sausage.

She totally set me up for that freaking tabloid photog and total fucked me over because the minute that guy snapped the pic, I knew my life was over.

And it is. Because not only has Mari left my stupid ass, I have been blackballed. Completely! I haven’t slept, have hardly eaten and my own cousin keeps glaring at me every time he sees me, no matter how I explained the whole situation. Doesn’t matter to him that I shoved Sissy on her ass in the water or that I didn’t so much as touch her.

Nah, according to Blay I am on my own in this because no way is he riling Lizzie by joining my enemy camp. A camp of one, thanks very fucking much.

Darn lonely here since my ma refuses to take my calls and dad, the traitor pretended yesterday not to know me when I saw him at the coffee house down the street.

My own father.

I get it now though, trust me. Seems the Egan’s, Byrd’s, Crocker’s, and any other blood even remotely related to them have my name and number. You don’t understand?

Yesterday I walked into the salon where I usually get my hair cut and styled-what, I’m a vain bastard and I like to look good for my Mari-anyway I went for my usual trim and style and I shit you not I walked out of there with that stylist grinning darkly and chunks of hair missing from my scalp. I look like a ferret attacked me!

And now I’m too afraid to get it fixed because as the guy at the coffeehouse explained to me when he spit in my coffee ‘no one messes with Lizzie and her babies dude, no one.’

Blackballed.

Completely.

According to the e-mail ma sent me this morning it’s my own damn fault for leaving my wife in her delicate condition and hormone driven depression so I got to suck it up and find a way to explain to her that what she saw was bullshit.

Only one problem here. I think her family might just kill me if I step foot near her house. I tried going into the neighbourhood two nights ago, Ty and Rus outfitted in black and shaking like leaves, only to run like hell when the neighbourhood watch sighted us and believe me, those old ladies can run. And they carry baseball bats.

Now those two are refusing to play on my team at all. In Rus’s defence Ingram called him up afterward and threatened to saw his dick off at the root. With a butter knife and Rox just shook her head at Ty in disappointment which had him near crazy for two days before she took pity on him and unblocked him from her social media.

Poor bastards.

Now here I am. Alone. miserable and missing my boo so much I even pine for her sleep gassing-her hormone farts while she’s snoring away next to me.

And trust me that says a lot because Mari for all her beauty has rank insides.

Not for long though because I am about to do something that will shake them all up. And maybe get me killed. But I’ll risk it because all this time alone-with Mari’s childhood diaries that she forgot to take when she left me-I know a few things that make me want to kill.

Is it wrong that I read her diaries? Who cares.

One. Her brothers used to bully her when she was younger, something she didn’t tell anyone about, not even when one shoved her down the stairs and she broke her arm.

Two. They’re dying. Not like I’m committing a crime or anything since I saw a picture of Glorietta as a baby and Jesuuus, I so get why Mari is convinced our babies will be nasty.

Please God, just give me one good one to show in public. I’ll love the others no matter what, but I need one pretty one so Mari will fuck me again.

But back to my mission.

“If Rox finds out I’m here and bans me again I will kill you Grayson.” Ty hisses as I drag meathead number one to the trunk of my car and heft his fat ass into it. Meathead two is still moaning in pain and cries out when I dump him in next to his brother and give him a glare.

“Stop being such a baby Tyson and ball the fuck up! These assholes bullied my Mari and-”

“And now you’ve beaten the shit out of her brothers and you think she’ll find it romantic?” Rus groans, shaking his head.

“Yeah. I know Mari.”

I hope.

“Flowers are romantic. Dinner. Candlelight. Hell, buy her a car! You don’t assault her brothers.”

“Mari’s special. She loves gifts with meaning.”

I hesitate to tell them the last time I tried to give my woman flowers she made confetti of them. By trying to shove them up my ass. The woman is not conventional-

“But…”

I ignore them as we get into the car and floor the gas, going for broke as I risk the line into the neighbourhood and plan to run at least half of them over if one more person gets in my way this time.

Screw this. I can go to prison. They can kill me. Anything’s got to be better than Mari never looking at me or touching me again.

“Grayson George! Stop that car right now and come home before I lose my only child.”

Ma’s voice over speaker phone has me turning to glare at Rus, who obviously thinks that calling my parents will change my mind.

“No.”

“But Gray…” she starts crying and I hear dad groan when Tyson fills them in about the asshats in my trunk.

“I’m going to get my wife ma and I don’t care what anyone says.”

Weeks! It’s been weeks since I looked at her curvy ass or laughed at her attempts to air out the bathroom before I can smell her very inhuman bodily functions .Inhuman.

I miss everything about her. Everything about me when I am with her and nothing is stopping me from getting that back. Plus, well I’m a pig and Blay’s been taking some photos on the sly. Damn! That woman looks all kinds of fuckable with that baby bump she’s rocking. And pregnant boobs, I need to see those puppies up close and with my mouth.

“Gray.”

“But ma, the boobs,” I whine.

*****************

Mari

The man is a lunatic, a complete and utter lunatic, I think weepily as Char and Lizzie look over at me and grin like the evil crones they are. Here I am, standing in front of all my family, in ma and papa’s shitty backyard that is made only less shitty by the fact that it’s been ‘decorated’…and I feel great.

The place looks like an eighties wedding threw up all over it but hell, what do I care. All I give a hoot about right now is the fact that Gray is totally gonna hate this and he won’t have a choice but to accept it because, well he wants me and-

“Good Lord Mari, he is insane.” Papa sighs, making me giggle.

You want the scoop so here it is. I have spent weeks letting my family slowly torture Gray until the poor man finally snapped. Oh I know that whole story now and trust me, little Sissy Conroy will never touch my man again. Not with the permanent make up disaster she’s currently rocking.

What, I got a friend who works at one of them swanky beauty places and she owed me a favour. I’m pretty sure Sissy won’t ever mess with me again, or anyone for that matter, not being house bound the way she is.

Lil sent me a photo after the whole ‘beautifying process’ and let me just say those two huge clown circles she’s sporting go pretty damn nicely with the lazered off eyebrows that I have it on good authority won’t ever grow back. And black lips? So nineties Sissy darling.

Ma says I went a little too far after she saw the photos. Ginny laughed so her nose threw up and Ing and Roxy did like their moms and took out an ad in the paper putting Sissy and her sexual preferences front and centre.

Try getting a hookup now you clowny lesbian!

Anyhow. So here I am, my crazy ass husband coming at me a mile a minute with my brothers beat to hell and locked in his trunk, and I feel gooood.

Because princess Gray is about to suffer the worst thing his little princess heart could ever imagine. My dream wedding. Complete with pink bunting, aqua table cloths and a wedding gown and teased hair that will add just that last something to the wedding photos.

Ginny keeps laughing, so hard she almost split her pink tutu dress because her boobs are like huge and rivalling Fi’s. Blay for his part is focused and ready to videotape the whole thing.

And Ingram is positioning the sign we had Ginny paint that perfectly replicates the one outside that hotdog joint that’s become so famous. I particularly look forward to those photos because having a hotdog that looks like a cock and balls and a vagina looking taco as the backdrop to his precious wedding photos is my special gift just to Gray.

Tyres screech outside and I hear grunting and curses as the door bangs open and Gray and his friends trudge through the house and drop my brothers at my feet.

Their bloody, tearstained faces are my own special wedding gift that Gray will be reaping the rewards of later. But for now…

The poor man freezes when he finally takes it all in, giving me a look that has Char screaming with laughter.

“Mari.”

His voice is a whine. The horror on his face is priceless, especially when he realizes that the other guests are all kitted out in swimwear and the green pool of death we borrowed is sitting right where the dancefloor should be.

Ma is cackling, and I really don’t blame her because Grayson finally gets a look at my papa in his neon green speedo, fully loaded as only my papa and Ian can load and ma, well she’s never been a one piece type of gal.

Her orange bikini is all about the saggy boobage and the colour does nothing to camouflage the fact that mama missed a wax recently!

“Think of the pictures Mari.” He pleads, swallowing loudly when Little Joe struts passed, his fur coat gleaming in the wintery light that ricochets off the full tent draped over the yard, heaters blasting to keep us all alive. FYI ain’t nothing small about Joe and my people have a love of little speedos.

Nuff said!

“Just think of your reward.” I coo, giving papa a smile when he unties the brothers and plonks their asses down for a talk later.

“Reward?” he asks suspiciously, eyes narrowed and I purposely lick my lips thrust out the boobs he’s drooling over making papa whine and ma cross herself.

That gets me exactly what I want and twenty minutes later I am remarried to Grayson George, Byrd style, while he fights valiantly not to sob like a baby when the photos are taken.

It tickles me when he blanches, having spotted Fi’s rogue knocker making an appearance just as the camera flashes and Lizzie and ma laugh full out at his muffled scream when the wedding cake is rolled out.

I went total ghetto on the poor thing and chose a fruit design that has those bananas and apples looking suspiciously like…

The best part?

When he kisses me sweetly and promises to get every single one of those pictures in the society pages because right there I know, Grayson George, the hottest man on earth, loves me. Madly.

*****************

Gray

I am in hell as Mari swans around, showing off her hideous dress, her truly hideous hair so solid that not even gale force winds could move that shit.

I say hell because I’m sandwiched between my father in law, Ian and Stevie, who by the way has a love for flesh coloured swimwear that puts his dick nob on full display.

Blay keeps muttering ‘stop looking at me’ as if the thing can actually hear him and Rus shakes suspiciously because it looks like Stevie has a rogue nut that does not like to be confined as is currently crawling down the side of his thigh.

I doubt I’ll eat in the next month thanks to that sight, no matter how hungry I get. And trust me, Irish men do not understand manscaping, just ask the forest of pubes crawling out their speedos as Ty tries and fails not to choke while Blay keeps blinking his eyes and silently begging Tink to rescue him.

“Now, boy, you gotta understand, I can’t just forget the beating you gave my sons.” Mitch says ruefully while Ian nods.

“Good. I expect gratitude and some serious ass kissing Mitch since those two overgrown behemoths are dirty fucking fighters.” I mumble, cursing a little when Ro saunters passed me, confirming that Mari puts a lot of work into the hair situation on her snatch.

Thank God she’s not a redhead because that shit looks course and untameable.

Christ. A razor would do it people!

My wedding photos are so totally fucked and I’m not just talking about the travesty that is everything Mari set up here. Nah, it’s the unshaven bodies that make me want to cry like a bitch.

My statement makes Ian laugh and Mitch, the sly ass just grins and winks at his sons, making them shudder.

I’m about to lose my mind completely when ma gives a horrified shriek and falls into a dead faint after yelling ‘please Jesus, just give us one good one for the family photos’.

That’s followed by something running passed us that makes Ty cross himself right along with poor Mitch and Ro and I look over at Mari in horror and second ma’s prayers.

“Glorietta Byrd! Get your funky ass back here before you get my daughter divorced!”

I really must love Mari madly I think as I blink to restore eye sight because fuck me if I’m not looking forward to a whole passel of kids with the woman. Even after seeing Glorietta in all her Glory.

Yeah.

Love. Her. Madly.