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“Shit,” I grumbled and I stood up. “This is getting ridiculous.”
I refused to look up and see the underside of their balls. Marching over to the tree where they were perched, I looked straight ahead and spoke in my outdoor voice. Sadly, I faltered and glanced up. Their wrinkled testicles swayed in the breeze. I seriously wished mind bleach was a real thing. “Corny, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“It’s thrilling!” he shouted. “I had no clue that you lived in a nudist colony. It’s my dream come true!”
I ran my hands through my hair and considered my options. Making Uncle Joe feel bad about hisnaturallife choices wasn’t on the table. Body parts were body parts. I reminded myself that bodies of all shapes and sizes were beautiful. It was problematic to see Corny’s naked body as beautiful, but I was going to find a way… or throw up trying.
“Actually, this isn’t a nudist colony,” I said, doing my best to stay diplomatic. “Not sure where you heard that rumor.” I wanted to say I was too old for this crap, but realized most of the people here had several thousand years on me.
The weird was real.
Corny began to cry. I felt awful.
“I am so sorry, Bitch Goddess Cecily,” he sobbed as he dropped from the tree and landed in a nude pile at my feet. “I’ve never fit in anywhere. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.”
“Umm…” I wasn’t sure what to do with that analogy.
Corny got to his feet and hung his head. “I’d also like to apologize for flashing my junk at you all those years ago. I did it to prove to the world I was a real man. I assumed—which made a laughing stock and an ass out of me—that my secret would be safe if I touched women’s bottoms and displayed my wiener in public.”
“Not following,” I said. “How would that keep the fact that you’re a nudist safe?”
Uncle Joe floated down from his branch and patted Corny on the back. His ghostly hand went right through the Demon, but the gesture was kind. “Dear Corny’s secret wasn’t the he prefers to live in the buff,” he explained.
I got it fast. My heart broke for the strange old Demon.
“Corny, there’s nothing wrong with being gay,” I said softly.
Corny wiped his tears, then picked up a few leaves and blew his nose. “Back in the golden days of cinema, it made one a pariah. My agent made me swear to keep my sexuality a secret.”
“Who in the fuck was your agent?” Cher bellowed. She was furious.
“Chucky Bucky,” Corny admitted.
“Chucky Bucky’s a fucking asshole,” Cher snarled. “Got busted for skimming residuals off his clients to the tune of ten million. Pecker’s in jail now.”
Corny was shocked. “Really? I didn’t know. He dropped me eight years ago. Told me I was an untalented old fruit.”
“Who’s your agent now?” Cher demanded, slapping her hands on her hips.
The Demon blanched. “I don’t have one.”
“You do now, you naked nut-job,” she shouted pulling papers out of her ever-present Prada bag. “I’m your fucking agent. However, you’re gonna have to wear clothes when you go on auditions.”
“I can do that!” Corny assured her.
On hearing the news, Stella Stevens, Irma Stoutwagon, Jonny Jones and Moon Sunny Swartz sprinted over and dropped to their knees in front of my tiny badass agent. Ophelia and Fifi hung back. Cher had already signed them.
“Please, oh great one with the green lips,” Irma begged. “Please take me on as a client too.”
Cher was a bit confused. She pulled out a compact mirror, checked her lips and screamed. Corny offered her the snot-covered leaves to wipe it off. She declined.
“You mother humpers need to let me know when I’ve lined my lips with a fucking eye pencil,” she complained as she pulled tissue out of her bag and scrubbed at her mouth.
“I will do that,” Stella swore. “If you take me on as a client, I’ll barnacle myself to you and slap you every time you make your lips green… or blue… or charcoal.”
“That’s a little much,” Cher commented.
“I’d be happy to service you daily if you sign me,” Jonny offered, flexing his muscles and giving Cher his thousand-watt smile.
