Jennifer chuckled as she stood up with a bottle of wine in each hand. “I’m gonna have to say I agree. It’ll be fun to see Goober aka Fake Tom Hanks aka Hemah’s face when we join the party.”
“Who is Tom Hanks?” Chamuel inquired.
Jennifer smiled at her counterpart. “I’ll tell you while we’re hiding.”
As they secured their spot, Shitty Ritchie darted over to me. “Would you like me to wish for Goober’s presence?”
“Yep,” I said. “But you do realize Its real name is Hemah. Right?”
Shitty Ritchie grinned. “Yes! Shitty Ritchie will pull that nugget of destruction out when it will burn Hemah’s asshole the most! We mustn’t let the enemy know about our finest ammunition until the enemy has exhausted Its own fucking supply!”
“I take back some of what I said about Shitty Ritchie’s brain matter,” Chamuel called out from underneath the couch.
“Roger that,” I called back.
“No worries, Chamuel!” Shitty Ritchie yelled. “Shitty Ritchie uses his superior intellect to make his foes, and occasionally, by accident, his friends, think he’s an imbecile. There are even times when I am not clear on my intelligence or lack thereof! BUT Shitty Ritchie is excellent at being a dunderhead because deep, deep, deep, deep down in the sphincter muscle that opens up to send the blood to his heart, he is a boneheaded jackhole who loves his friends!”
That made no sense whatsoever and at the same time it was spot on. I shook my head and grinned. Thankfully, the mold had been broken after Shitty Ritchie had come into existence. Or, at least, I hoped it had. I wasn’t sure the Universe could handle more than one.
Both Chamuel and Jennifer popped up from their hiding place to chastise Shitty Ritchie.
“Boy,” Jennifer warned, wagging her finger. “I don’t wanna hear you talkin’ crap on yourself anymore. You’re a wonderful, loving, outstanding little nut-ball of a man. You do have an unhealthy obsession with your privates, but show me a man who doesn’t. You be nice to yourself. You be as kind to yourself as you are to your friends or I’m gonna whoop ya.”
“Jennifer speaks the truth,” Chamuel added. “Especially the part about your infatuation with your parts. However, youclearly have a good and loving heart. That is a gift Hemah never possessed. You will embody vengeance in a way that upholds justice and vilifies evil. As appallingly disgusting as you are, I am most pleased to have made your acquaintance. It is an honor.”
“Back at you, Cheese Dick!” Shitty Ritchie bellowed with delight. “Is it okay if Shitty Ritchie calls you Cheese Dick?”
Chamuel winced. “Would it make you happy to do so, tiny man?”
Shitty Ritchie paused in thought. Rare for him.
“Shitty Ritchie wants to know if it makes you happy,” he told Chamuel.
“That matters to you?” It asked, surprised.
“Well sure!” Shitty Ritchie said. “Even though you tried to rip my head off, I forgive you! You’re my new friend. If it makes you sad that I call you Cheese Dick, I will not do it. Although, a nickname is a sign of endearment. You’re dear to me!”
Chamuel was speechless.
Shitty Ritchie was not. “We could always go with another loving nickname. Nardhole has a nice ring to it. Or Dingleberry, or Gooey Toe Jam, or Gassy Rump-Rump, or…”
Chamuel cleared Its throat loudly. Shitty Ritchie zipped it.
“If those are the choices, I shall stick with Cheese Dick,” Chamuel said in surrender. “I… thank you for the honor.”
“Not a problemo, Cheese Dick,” Shitty Ritchie said sweetly. “And if you’d like to give me a nickname, I would be thrilled.”
“I am quite sure nothing I could come up with would top Shitty Ritchie,” Chamuel choked out. “By the way, is that your real name?”
“It is!” Shitty Ritchie assured It. “I went for many centuries without a name at all. One day when I wasn’t on the run from Hemah trying to kill me, I found two pieces of paper in thetrash in New Orleans on Bourbon Street. One said shitty. And the other said Ritchie. I took that as a sign from the Universe that I was loved enough to have a name. From that day forward, I was Shitty Ritchie! And the rest is history.”
“Wow,” I said, wanting to laugh, but wanting to cry. Shitty Ritchie continually made my heart ache. The good thing was that he was here to make it ache. I could handle that. The thought of him alone in the world, I could not handle.
“It’s a beautiful name,” Jennifer told him. “I love it.”
“And I love YOU!” Shitty Ritchie squealed. “Now hide. It’s time to call on Goober.”
Both Jennifer and Cheese Dick slipped back under the couch.
