Astrid perked up at the potential good news. While thinking about her technically touching my member was repulsive since she was my fucking niece, the fact that she appeared repulsed by the thought was beyond disrespectful.
Lizard continued. “The most common terms for urination are pee, tinkle, whizz, take a leak and go number one. None of those terms specify sitting or standing.” He smiled at her with sympathy. “For simplicity’s sake, we can call it the sit down wee-wee. In German, the word used for this action is sitzpinkler—meaning sit peeer. In Japanese, they say suwari-shon. Does sitzpinkler or suwari-shon work for you?”
“Maybe,” Astrid said. “Does it mean I don’t have to touch the wank or look at the wank?”
I rolled my eyes.
Lizard mulled the question. “You could either wad up a bunch of toilet paper and shove the wank between your legs, or you can choose someone to shove the wank for you.”
“Won’t the wank just drop between the legs when I sit?” she questioned.
“Normally, yes,” Lizard assured her. “But the wank during the morning whizz can be less predictable. If you don’t manhandle the wank correctly, there’s a chance you could wee-wee on your face.”
“I HATE MY LIFE,” Astrid shouted.
“JOIN THE CLUB,” I bellowed back, still wildly put out that she thought my manhood was gross. “And while we’re chatting, if anyone refers to my enormous cock as a wank again, I will set them on fire.”
“Roger that,” Martha said. “Is pork sword okay?”
“NO,” Astrid and I yelled in unison.
Astrid groaned. It took her a good two minutes to get the next sentence out. She opened and closed her mouth so many times I wondered if she was about to morph into a fish.
“How often do you have to go number two?” she whispered, horrified.
The conversation was making me itchy. However, I was about to give my niece a gift. “I only defecate once every two weeks,” I replied. “And I dropped off the kids at the lake yesterday.”
“What the actual fuck?” Jane yelled, confused. “I mean, I do enjoy sayin’ you’re full of shit, but I didn’t know it was true.”
I electrocuted her. She’d asked for it.
Lizard jumped in. “I only pinch off a loaf once a month,” he admitted with pride. “Demons have a slightly different intestinal system. As we age it slows down. Saves loads on toilet paper. Now, I gotta say do quite enjoy making an offering to the porcelain throne, but wasting three hours on the commode to complete a code brown is rough.”
No one said a word. That was excellent. Any more comments about poop or constipation would end in death. Thiers. Not mine.
“Back to the ground rules,” I said, with a shudder. The faster we got along, the faster I could go back to being me. “Is Ethan gone?”
“Yes,” Astrid replied with relief. “He’s in Oklahoma dealing with some Vamps.”
“You mean pussies?” I asked with a grin.
She zapped me then quickly sat on her hands. “Crap, I didn’t mean to do that. Actually… I did, but I’m going to quash that impulse.”
I nodded and slapped out the flames. “And I shall stop calling Vampyres pussies. Not that I don’t think that they’re pussies, because I do. But I shall keep that thought to myself.”
“See?” Connie Raven Enid Delacroix squealed. “You’re already thinking about each other’s feelings. This is wonderful.”
Wonderful wasn’t the word I would use. I squinted at the witch. My gut told me that Connie Raven Enid Delacroix could not be trusted. I’d keep an eye on her.
“Can you tell Ethan not to come back for a week?” I asked, realizing the ramifications we’d have to navigate if he was here.
Astrid’s eyes grew huge. “Shit.” She jumped to her feet and continued to pace erratically. “I can try. But you’re going to have to talk to him.”
“Why?” I demanded.
She gave me a glare. It was terrifying. “Because you have my voice, jackass.”
My niece was correct. This was going to be a disaster. “Fine. You will write a script with talking points. We will put him on speaker phone and you shall alter the script as necessary during the conversation.”
