Pt 2: Shocking and Vomitous Thursday: PAYBACK!

This story can stand alone, but is a continuation from the last blog post. We are still on Thursday night of Markie D's first week of Fifth grade. So far we have recounted how the Dahlins let the monkeys out of the Zoo; Markie was left behind at Salton Sea that ended up in a spectacular chase between the highway patrol and Dahlins; how his brothers and
conniving neighbor rats used a whiffle-ball and fishing line to reel in the old grouch next door; how Mark was stuffed into a hamper and jammed under the rear wheels of her precious 55 Buick; and also described the early morning ritual of pushing cars from one side of the street to the other.

In other words, the Dahlins were far from normal!  As one Markie D blog-follower put it, "Every car ride was torture...every journey an odyssey...it was always crazy... and in the end - it was fodder for a good story!"  

It was Thursday, the police hadn't showed up so far...Markie had escaped the wrath of Sister Godzilla and took precautions to avoid the ambush that was laying in wait for him behind the bushes at the big old house at the corner.                                      

It was a good day!  

Kurt was making spaghetti for the entire clan, while Tony and the older boys were plotting how to use the electrical wires that had been left hanging out of the wall to maximize their fullest diabolical potential. 

Holding on to separate wires one group wound its way through the living room while the other group took a more direct route through the hall to the front door. The next person in through the front door was about to get the shock of their lives.  News went out through the neighborhood that the Dahlins were having spaghetti with real meat, and upon hearing the news, many began showing up to see if it were true. 
 

It could have been anyone who was met with the handshake of electricity! It could had been John Gillemont, Tom Weltz, Booty, Primo, Red...Rita Nargie, Ellis Steadman, a priest, a nun... BUT IT WAS JOHN MASSON who came gallivanting up the eight wooden stairs and naively sauntered across the porch towards the large oak door. 

Our house was unusually quiet! Kids were not playing "King of the Hill" on top of the high-pitched three story roof, nobody was being dangled out of any of the windows by their legs... nobody was strapped to a tree and neither were there the typical hordes of plotting blonde hair anywhere in sight.
 
Noticing the obvious lack of male testosterone and noise, Mrs. Steadman knew something was not right in the world. From behind the safety of her blinds she screamed to Mr. Steadman. "The Wolf Pack! The Wolf Pack...must be up to something...start dialing the police."  

"No wonder lions eat their young," he said, sardonically not wanting to get involved, but looked over to make sure little Ellis was safe inside. 

Donny Blaser had triumphantly picked the short stick and won the privilege of greeting John. John came, thinking he would be entertained, little did he know, however, he was about to be the entertainment. It was like having a cannibal invite you for dinner and making the mistake of asking what he was serving for the main course.                                         HELLO? You are the main course! 

The light flickered over the kitchen table and Kurt knew the dirty deed was done. Donny grabbed a hold of John completing the circuit and SURPRISE! John screeched like a girl and his thick black hair stood up on end producing Venice's first Afro setting a trend to come. John writhed in pain as the boys refused to let him go... UNTIL...  Until, they witnessed the prerequisite wet spot on the front of his pants that sent the triumphant Wolf Pack into hysterics. 

Hidden in her room, mom called down to see what the ruckus was all about. No one answered the phone because they were too busy zapping innocent bystanders who were like mosquitoes in a bug-zapper.

After that calamity, we finally calmed down enough to sit around the Formica table with gobs and gobs of spaghetti piled high on our plates hopefully searching for the rare specks of meat. The phone rang again. All twenty of us in the room knew it was mom upstairs doing her reverse ring-thing she figured out when eavesdropping on the boys.... and we also knew what she was calling about. After about 20 rings Tony confidently picked up the phone and answered as though it were a complete stranger. "Hello, yes he is,"  he said and handed me the receiver. I rolled my eyes, because I knew he was lying - it really wasn't for me. Locked in her room like a prisoner, she was looking for someone to bring up one of her Carnation Instant Breakfast drinks she had hidden in the stinky Tupperware drawer.

No one was going to bring it up to her any way but me. So I complied by mixing a packet with some of my dad's spurious milk concoction and ran it upstairs, knocked on her door and left it there for her.

When I came downstairs I looked to make sure no one was holding on to the wires and saw that it was all copacetic. I took a bite of spaghetti and a sip of the milk stuff...that's when the room got silent and all eyes were trained on me. Mouth agape I knew something was dreadfully wrong and my stomach churned in fear. Faces went sour and Dooh-Dooh Pants said in a well rehearsed manner, "Ewwwwwwww! Tony put a booger in your cup." There I sat with a fresh milk mustache and my stomach heaved... There was nothing I could do! Knowing my superpowers they roared with laughter and as usual expected me to spring to my feet and make a mad dash for the bathroom. It was quite the game!  Churing in my belly was this morning's oatmeal, sourdough toast and three bites of spaghetti.  As usual, they anticipated my frantic jont to toilet and had also planned to trip me up on the way. 

Warm vomit filled my cheeks and another volley heaved in my gut and I just 'let her loose.' Mt. Vesuvius... Krakatoa... the volcano exploded and the warm mixture shot out 10 feet as I sprayed the stuff like a Gatling Gun, making sure that everyone in the room was as tormented as I was. The older boys grabbed the girls and used them as splash shields and the Spaghetti Fest was over!

It was a good day afterall!  I had won! Everyone will remember that this is the day... Markie D foiled the Wolf Pack!

WELCOME TO THE DAHLINS FOR DINNER!

That night I went to bed with boxing gloves on and a smile on my face. 









I don't know if the pee-pee part is true or not, but it sure makes for a good story... (a TRUE story seasoned with a bit of literary license).