She shook her head. “Doesn’t feel right. You don’t really look like a Richard Smith to me.”
“I quite agree,” the little dude said. “Richard is too formal and Smith is boring. Ritchie is suave and Shitty describes me wonderfully!”
Charlie chuckled. “My apologies, Shitty Ritchie. I just thought since you’re about to become the Higher Power, you might want to remove the profanity from your moniker.”
“Nope!” he announced. “I’ll stick with Shitty Ritchie. It’s sexy like me. And what do you meanabout to become? I thought we were the Higher Power. I’ve been advertising my man goo to Heather with the street cred of being the Higher Power.”
“Oh, hell to the no,” Jennifer said with a wince. “You’re not earning any points here.”
“I have no clue what you mean,” he replied, truly perplexed.
Heather rolled her eyes. “Jennifer, it’s not worth it. Just ignore him.”
Jennifer laughed and nodded. “Charlie, even though the delivery of the question by Shitty Ritchie was unfortunate, what do you mean byabout to become?”
I was interested in the answer, along with everyone else. Alana Catherine sat down on the other side of Charlie and leaned in. “Please explain, Uncle Charlie.”
Charlie opened his mouth, then paused for a moment and smiled at my daughter. She’d disarmed him by calling him uncle. As the Enforcer, disarming the man wasn’t an easy task. He gave her a nod and said, “While the Higher Power still exists, the ones waiting in the wings cannot be recognized.”
“Not a problem,” Shitty Ritchie announced grandly, skipping over to the table, hopping up on it and sliding into the splits.It would have been mildly impressive if he hadn’t ripped the crotch out of his trousers. Tiny guy was going commando.
June gasped and covered her eyes. The rest of us suddenly found the ceiling very interesting.
Gideon was all over it. With a wave of his hand, he repaired Shitty Ritchie’s pants so none of us would have to keep looking at his teeny-weeny man bits. That was a visual I could do without. I gave my man a grateful look. He winked. If someone had explained this exact situation a few years ago, I would have laughed. It was too absurd to be true. The truth in my life was turning out to be so much stranger than fiction.
Shitty Ritchie continued as if he hadn’t just flashed his dong. “We will KILL the Higher Power. Now that there is no fear of bringing on the end, I say we go for it. My suggestion would be to peel the skin from Its bitch-ass body while simultaneously shoving thin but sturdy shards of glass under Its fingernails and toenails. This will be followed by dipping the devious shart into a vat of boiling rubbing alcohol. Since the skin will have been removed and It will resemble a bloody freakshow, the procedure will be excruciating for the shart. When that piece of business has been accomplished, I say we remove Its appendages and beat the hell out of It.” He waved his hand around dismissively. “I can take the lead on that,” he continued. “That move has been on my to-do list for centuries. It might also be fitting to yank Its entrails out with flaming hot pliers and shove them down Its throat. I feel that watching the disgusting gob of excrement choke would be fun! Decapitation will be our last maneuver. Oh… and I think a lovely touch would be to have Candy Vargo AKA Nancy Vargo butter what’s left of the Higher Power’s butt and then eat the fucker. If it’s too much for her, I can polish off what’s left. Since we’re not residing in Idaho, eating the abomination won’t end with Candy or myself doing fifty toseventy-five in the slammer. Win-win. After the deed is done, I say we have a pizza party and jazz square the night away.”
The silence in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. I was sure I’d turned slightly green. Jennifer’s mouth hung open in shock. Alana Catherine pressed the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. Gram and Mr. Jackson hovered above the table and had paled significantly. That was difficult since they were ghosts. Heather gagged along with June. Charlie’s eyes were huge and round. He could be a violent badass, but I was positive he’d never partaken in anything like the plan Shitty Ritchie had just laid out. Gideon squinted at the tiny guy like he was an alien from planet What-The-Fuck. Candy Vargo was glowing a bright and menacing orange. Like Charlie, the Keeper of Fate could be violent, however, even she was horrified. Shitty Ritchie was only seconds from getting the beejesus electrocuted out of him by Candy. Even though I was nauseous, I quickly walked over to Candy and placed a calming hand on her back. We didn’t need one of our own turning the Trinity into a duo.
“Umm,” I choked out. “That was… umm.”
“Just awful,” Gram said, gaping at Shitty Ritchie. “How in the ever-lovin’ heck did you come up with that plan?”
He shrugged and smiled widely, showing all of his razor-sharp chompers. The delusional little freak mistakenly thought we were impressed. We were not.
“When you live alone for millions of years in a cave while having to run for your life from the Higher Power, you have some time on your hands,” he told Gram. “Trust me, I have more detailed plans if you’d like to hear them!”
A loud and unison NO came from everyone in the kitchen.
He really did have only two brain cells, and they were completely unconnected. It was terrifying that he was part of the Trinity with my daughter and Jennifer.
Shitty Ritchie giggled. “Okey doke! We’ll go with plan A.”
We would not go with plan A. However, that was a need-to-know situation. When Shitty Ritchie needed to know, we would tell him. I had no idea what the plan would be, but I knew for sure it wouldn’t involve flaming hot pliers and cannibalism.
“Alrightroo!” Gram announced, still recovering from Shitty Ritchie’s diatribe. “Nuff of this sittin’ around! We already know Tom Hanks has his panties in a knot and that he’s meaner than a wet panther. I say we need to get to it.”
“Get to what?” Jennifer asked.
“Don’t rightly know, child,” she admitted with a giggle. “What I do know is if we just sit around, we’re about as useful as a steering wheel on a dang mule.”
“Ohhhhhhhhhhha yessssssah!” Mr. Jackson said, backing his gal pal all the way.
“Thank you, darlin’,” Gram replied, giving her beau a kiss on the cheek. Her head went right through his due to the fact they were dead, but it was sweet nonetheless. “So, kids, as I was sayin’, the future right now smells bad enough to gag a maggot. BUT… we can change that. Ain’t nothin’ impossible as long as we believe!”
“True that, Gram,” Candy Vargo agreed. She pointed at the ghost floating above her. “That right there is my default mama. And she’s onto somethin’ cuz she’s brilliant. We can’t just sit on our asses and wait for fake Tom Hanks’ next move. We need to make a plan.”
“I already made one,” Shitty Ritchie reminder her.
