By Tony Fadoosh
Now, Vinny, I know we’ve known each other for some time now, but what you did yesterday morning was simply impermissible. We’re both reasonable people, Vin. At least that’s what I thought. I don’t have any idea where you got that sick, twisted idea or where you even got that much cottage cheese.
I don’t want any hard feelings between the two of us, but I’m sorry to tell you that you won’t be able to see Bobby ever again. And I won’t ever be able to look you in the eyes ever again, so I won’t be able to see you either. And, unfortunately, he won’t ever be able to see cottage cheese again.
I want you to pack up your things from the third floor pantry and get your sausage links out of the fridge by two-thirty tomorrow, or I’m callin’ the cops. And this time, I’ll make sure the cop doesn’t like cottage cheese. I’m gonna put in a special request, in advance, for a cop who doesn’t like cottage cheese, just so I can make sure he gets your ass for good. And I’ve put in cop requests before. It’s not like this is just some ‘thing’ that I’m making up, this is the real deal. Actually, you know what they need? An app. That’s how you get the word out there, have people getting it on their phones and stuff, then you could make cop requests super easy. I’m gonna write them a letter.
Anyway, you and all of your various food items need to be out of the duplex by two-thirty, or else I’m going to lock you in Bobby’s bedroom and make you experience the absolute catastrophe of a gas giant you created. Don’t leave any shit behind either, because I know you like that shit. I know you like to leave behind your shirts and shit so you have an excuse to come back and feed my nephew more cottage cheese, but no more.
So I’ll say it one more time: keep your mattress out of my pantry and your liquid cheese away from adolescents.