Troubles and Treats by Tara Sivec

the middle of the circle
     and a few people direct Drew to the chair opposite him.
    “Bring on The Great Swami.  I will totally kick his assss-ascot!” Drew cheers, catching
     himself just in time.
    “Okay, so Eric is going to be The Great Swami,” Steve informs Drew.  “All you have
     to do is follow along and do the exact same things he does.”
    I have no idea what’s going on but it looks like a safe enough game where Drew won’t
     get in trouble with his mouth, and hopefully it will have something to do with having
     a good marriage.  Eric puts both of his arms up in the air, making a 'V', and Drew
     does the same.  Eric then touches his finger to his nose, which Drew copies immediately.
    “Man, this is easy.  The Great Swami is going down!” Drew exclaims as he copies every
     single move Eric does with his arms and hands.  I’m feeling even more confident that
     we will at least end this evening on a good note, even if we don’t get any good marriage
     advice from these people.
    Since Drew has his back to me, he doesn’t see one of the women sneak up behind his
     chair with something in her hand.  I can’t see what it is since she’s hiding it in
     front of her, but everyone around the circle starts to giggle when they see her.
    The Great Swami Eric does a few more arm movements that Drew repeats and then suddenly
     he stands up from of his chair.  Drew immediately follows the movement, at which point,
     the woman sticks what I now see is a huge, sopping wet towel onto the seat of Drew’s
     chair.
    Eric quickly sits back down onto his own chair, and Drew follows suit, smacking his
     ass down onto the wet towel and the puddle it makes in his chair.  He quickly pops
     right back up and twists and turns to try and get a look at his ass while everyone
     around us is rolling with laughter
    “SON OF A MOTHER FUCKING JESUS BITCH!  WHAT THE FUCK ASS SHIT BITCH JUST FUCKING HAPPENED?!”
    I can almost feel Jesus on his puffy cloud shaking his head in shame at us and saying,
     “You should have known better than to mix with my people.  They will fuck you every
     time.”
    We quickly gather up the kids and thank everyone for a wonderful time.  Drew tells
     them we need to leave because Billy has explosive diarrhea just as Veronica begins singing at the top of her lungs, “SHIT POOP DIAWEEA. SHIT POOP
     DIAWEEA!”
    The whole walk back to our house Drew complains, “Fucking stupid ass fuck Swami. 
     Next time we’re invited over there, I’m going to fuck that Swami up.”
    I’m not going to hold my breast for another invitation any time soon.

Chapter 9 – Great Head
     
    “I can’t believe you’ve never played The Great Swami game before.  I’m disappointed
     that you would fall for the oldest trick in the book.”
    My dad, Andrew Senior, shakes his head at me in pity as we share a beer up at the
     local pub and watch the Browns game.  I had invited my dad up here to get his take
     on Jenny and see if he would be up to tailing her for a few days.  I’m not one hundred
     percent positive that she’s falsifying a workman’s comp claim since she stopped limping
     the day after she hurt her ankle, but I still have my doubts.  Something stinks in
     suburbia and it’s not my balls.
    “Can we get back to the topic at hand, please?  Will you do this for me or not?” I
     ask as I signal the bartender for another drink.
    “Son, I have had your back for twenty-four-”
    “Thirty-four,” I supply.
    “Thirty-four years.  I am not about to quit you now, soldier.  I will be on her like
     flies on shit.  She doesn’t make a move without me knowing about it.  I love the smell
     of deceit in the morning!”
    My father’s enthusiasm for trying to catch my wife doing something bad doesn’t make
     me feel better. 
    My dad used to be a drill sergeant in the Marines until word got around just how scary
     of a mother fucker he was.  The Corps had a hard time finding recruits in his area