Son of a mother fucking bitch! Logan is here???
Reggie shoulders his way between Noel and I and flings open the front door. I stare in irritation at the man on the front stoop with perfectly slicked back hair, black suit, and a pansy-ass white scarf around his neck.
“What the hell is all this yelling for? Are you a druggie? Does my daughter owe you money?” Reggie shouts at the dumb-shit in front of him.
“What? No, I’m Logan,” he states, puffing up his chest and holding his hand out in front of him.
I groan and Noel whimpers again.
“No you’re not, he’s Logan,” Reggie argues, pointing his thumb over his shoulder in my direction.
Logan looks around Reggie and glares at me.
“No, I’M Logan. I have no idea who that is. Who are you?” he asks me angrily.
“This is LOGAN,” Bev shouts, coming up from behind me. “LOOOOOOGAAAAAANNNN.”
She yells louder, stretching out the word like the dumb shit is hard of hearing.
Logan looks around at everyone in confusion.
“I think he is on drugs, he looks very confused,” Bev whispers. “Or maybe he’s def. What’s sign language for ‘Get off our porch’?”
“I’M LOGAN!” Dumb-shit shouts in a huff.
“HE’S LOGAN!” Reggie yells back, pointing his thumb at me again.
“This is so much fun!” Nicholas announces.
I shoot him a dirty look and he immediately drops his smile. “Sorry, dude. My bad.”
“Um, I need to tell you guys something,” Noel finally speaks.
“Oh, God! You ARE on drugs! This is your dealer and he’s come to beat you up!” Bev wails. “Reggie, get the extra grocery money out of the cookie jar on the counter. “I won’t let this pimp beat up my baby!”
Reggie shakes his head at her, shooting another glare at Dumb-shit.
“You have five seconds to tell me who you are or I’m going to let Aunt Bobbie escort you off the property,” Reggie tells him.
Aunt Bobbie comes up next to me and cracks the giant knuckles on her huge hands. “Won’t be as much fun as grabbing Logan’s package, but he’ll do.”
“For the last time, I AM LOGAN!” Dumb shit says again in annoyance. “Will you please let me inside? It’s freezing out here and I didn’t bring my coat.”
He looks at Noel pleadingly, reaching into his front pocket and pulling out the largest diamond ring I’ve ever seen in my life. Please, Noel, I can’t stand the thought of you not having this on your finger. I don’t care if you never want to marry me, just please take the ring back and let’s work this out.”
As Noel’s hand comes up and she nervously brushes her hair out of her eyes, Dumb shit’s own eyes immediately zero in on the pathetic excuse for a ring I slipped on her finger last night sparkling in the morning sun streaming through the front door.
“What the hell is that? Is that a ring?” he asks in shock.
Noel quickly pulls her hand down and hides it behind her back, my heart completely breaking in two.
“Oh, dear. He’s a pimp and he’s stupid, this is not good,” Bev mutters. “Leon, leave it to you to find the only stupid pimp in Seattle.”
“Who the hell is Leon?” Dumb shit asks.
“She is,” Reggie replies, his thumb flying in Noel’s direction this time.
“Okay, enough with the Who’s on First, What’s on Second,” Noel says with a sigh. “Everyone, THIS is Logan. The real Logan. And this is Sam.”
She takes turns pointing to each of us and I slide my hands into the pockets of my plaid pajama bottoms, having no clue what else to do with them since I can’t decide if I want to punch dumb shit in the face or wrap my arms around Noel and drag her out of the room and pretend like none of this is happening.
“Who’s Sam?” Bev asks.
“I am,” I answer curtly.
“Am I still high?” Aunt Bobbie mutters from next to me. “Tell me, does anyone see a squirrel wearing a red sweater in the hallway with us right now?”
Everyone ignores Aunt Bobbie and stares at me like I’M the guilty one.
Shit, I AM the guilty one. I lied to these people, I stayed in their home and I ate their food. It wasn’t any big deal until I got to know them and now I feel like the biggest asshole on the planet.
“Are you a man dressed in women’s clothes?” Dumb-shit says with a grimace as he looks Aunt Bobbie up and down.
Everyone gasps and I pull one hand out of my pocket to pat Aunt Bobbie on the back.
“You look beautiful, darling. That blue sweater really brings out your eyes,” I tell her, trying to calm her down before she starts crying.
“Thank you,” she replies with a smile. “Can I rip his dick off now?”
Dumb-shit gasps and takes a step back on the porch.
That’s right, keep stepping back until you’re back in Seattle and far, far away from here you undeserving piece of shit.
“I think I should shoot him in the balls. What do you think, Sam?” Nicholas asks.