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EPILOGUE
It's been a year, a year since our hell on earth; what a difference a year makes. First, on the career front, things couldn't be any fucking better. Oops, I'm trying to curtail my swearing. Suzette threatened me with bodily harm if our kids’ first word is fuckery or anything remotely similar.
Yes, I said kids plural; who the fuck...umm yeah, who knew I had super sperm? Three in one shot, I kid you not. Butterfly was a whale. Don't tell her I said that. So anyway, three healthy cute as fuck boys, they're my fuck you to the naysayers; if that's not politically correct, I don't give a fuck.
Anyway, back to the career front, like I was saying, in the last year, we got more movie offers and endorsement deals than ten people could handle. We had to beg for a break; there's no way we could've done them all, so we chose the ones that were best for us.
We did three movies a piece in the last year. Try doing that shit while pregnant, breastfeeding, or getting up for three am feedings.
This coming year we're taking a break. I'm taking my family to our private island for at least three months. Besides, Suzette has me doing double duty as a stud; she says she got jipped on the baby front since she's seriously outnumbered. Fuck yeah, I'm down with it.
So business is good, family life is phenomenal, my boys are growing like tumbleweeds, some fuckwad magazine wanted to sign our kids to a modeling deal or to do commercials or some fuck, I told them to kiss my ass. My kids could choose that life if they want; I'm not choosing it for them.
Oh, I know what you're waiting for, the whole revenge thing; well, see that fucker James had an ace up his sleeve all along my nana on my father's side.
See, James is a distant relative, and apparently, he didn't like my more volatile suggestions regarding those fucks, so he squealed like a little bitch. I hadn’t told anyone that I was responsible for the supposed mugging of Peter Poole that got so much notice in the press; the cops were hunting for a madman that had attacked one of Hollywood’s up-and-comers in a New York alley, and everyone was convinced it was a random act of violence, but I’d received some piercing looks from a few family members including butterfly. I didn’t admit to anything but let’s just say they knew what they knew. I was still thinking of ways to fuck with him, though, I wasn’t through by a long shot, and no one could get me to change my mind, but James wasn’t buying my innocent act, and he was convinced I was going to land my ass in jail so like I said he sang like a fucking yellow bird. It was a good six months after the beat down, and I was still muttering about getting his ass. Butterfly was pregnant. By then, I mean really pregnant; you could see that shit from the space station. One day I let slip that I still wasn’t happy with the way things ended with the guilty parties getting away with what they’d done. James that fuck had listened to every word without a rebuttal; I didn’t know all along he was planning to put a monkey wrench in my shit.
Needless to say, nana descended on me like the Red Baron on a British bomber. It took her ten minutes to defuse the situation with her sneaky ass; it went something like this.
"Nana, what are you doing here? I didn't know you were coming."
"Humph, of course, you didn't, boy, it's a surprise; where's your wife?"
"She just went down for a nap; the babies are making her tired." I smiled like a proud father-to-be.
"So you're a man now with a family on the way, you happy?"
"Very happy, nana."
" You have all you could want in life?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
"So you'll give up this need for revenge?"
"Nana..."
"Do you remember going to church with me when you were younger?"
Oh boy.
"Yes, I do..."
"Do you remember anything you learned?"
"Some!" Okay, I have to admit I was squirming in my seat; where was she going with this?
"Vengeance is mine says the Lord."
Well, damn, she pulled the high card.
* * *
It's beenthree days since nana's visit; life is good; I'm happy, my wife is happy, and all's right in my mother-fucking world. My thirst for revenge isn't burning as bright as it once was. Don’t get me wrong; it’s still there. I still want their blood in my fucking throat, but I had a lot of good shit to look forward to, and that goes a long way in tempering the fire.
So imagine my surprise when I got a phone call telling me to watch one of the leading entertainment shows on that evening's broadcast.
I was mad as fuck thinking these fucks were looking to fuck with my life again, but this caller would've given me a heads up.
