[ WP ] Someone breaks into your house and says , `` You 're my favorite character in the book ! I ca n't let it end the way it did . I 'm going to help you . ''

Blackness, I'm seeing black right now. But I guess there is now a strange man in my house. 
 
 No, fuck, no. He is n't dangerous. But he _is_ shouting. I got so angry so fast that my brain could n't contain the anger and it is blocking my view. That kind of anger. 
 
 Because, I mean, for one thing — he is yelling. And he just broke into my fucking house. During a very important dinner, in which my wife is trying to achieve a very important advertisement deal with the owner of a fifty-year strong dildo company. 
 
 And —shit — now the baby is crying. Fuck. Fuck. The women are screaming and this man is screaming and the baby is screaming. Just now, I realized that I am screaming, too. Jesus fuck. There's four titties in this room and the baby is _still_ crying. Somebody please get this kid a tit. 
 
 Okay, alright, so I can see the guy. He's holding nothing but he's flailing his arms around his head wildly. He's a young man, an average looking man. What the fuck? Some late millennial douchebag just barged into my house? He's so happy. He looks like a dumb dog whose dumb owner just dropped the open food bag on the floor. 
 
 What are you even saying to me, kid? 
 
 `` **Ohhhhh man**,'' Gasping for air, and then, `` Wow. You are so much better looking than I thought you'd be.'' 
 
 You better fuckin' watch the way you're talking to my wife, you fuckin' idiot. Get the fuck out. 
 
 `` No! No, not her! You!'' 
 
 He frames my body from arms distance with his hands. 
 
 `` I always pictured you looking more miserable than this, man!'' 
 
 What the _fuck_ are you talking about. Get the fuck out. 
 
 `` I do n't give a shit about her,'' he motions past me. `` Dude, I think I have a lot to tell you about her.'' 
 
 What? 
 
 `` What part is this? Is that the dildo lady?'' 
 
 _Get the fuck out._ 
 
 I push his shoulders towards the front door with all of my might. 
 
 `` If that's the dildo lady, I _definitely_ have a lot to tell you!'' 
 
 He sticks the toes of his boat shoes in the door. 
 
 I ought to slam them off. 
 
 I do n't. Rather, I open the door wide enough to slip my body out and shut it behind me. 
 
 What the fuck are you talking about? What are you even doing? 
 
 `` Oh my god,'' he marvels. 
 
 Calm the fuck down and explain, kid. I should be calling the fuckin' cops on your crazy ass. 
 
 He shakes his head, gradually slowing it as he makes the angles of his elbows more acute, fingers pinched and facing outward like a sprucing TV chef. `` **Ohhhhh**kay,'' He exhales excitedly. `` It's just, you're my favorite character. I just, I really feel for you. I can relate to you. And, oh man this is crazy. Wow. Ahh, I know how it's gon na end,'' 
 
 He locks eyes with me. 
 
 `` And I just do n't want that to happen to you.'' He shrugs, `` That's all.'' And his hands are at his side in a natural position, for the first time since this complete and total fucking whack job made his way into my home. 
 
 My right hand has made it to my temple, trying to work my fingers through my thick-with-anger skull, trying to understand what in the fuck this guy is saying to me. He knows how it's going to end. 
 
 From inside, the sound of a screaming infant drift through the sturdy, old wood of my home. 
 
 I look up at him, my jaw still flacid with shock. Our eyes meet. 
 
 
 What _the. Fuck._ could you possibly know about me? 
 
 His face cracks into a wild smile. His brow has started to sweat. Now that I'm really looking at him, I realize that he is shaking slightly. 
 
 Christ, kid. I do n't even have a Facebook page. 
 
 `` I know,'' He breathes excitedly. 
 
 Deadpan stare is all I can give him. I do n't even have anything to say. 
 
 `` Well,'' His voice cracks. `` What do you want to know?'' 
 
 My brain flips inside out for a second. All of the pages I had previously ripped out, pissed on, scribbled out, or otherwise turned of the book of my life were suddenly licking into flashes of vibrant bursts, manifesting themselves like a colorful, angry, slightly disturbing children's pop-up book. 
 
 My throat is making this weird `` Ehhh, eiiiuhhhh'' sound as I struggle to form a word. 
 
 The Misses. Her business trips. Her sudden raise. The purses, the shoes, the outfits. Oh, god, the boob job. Her advertisement company's sudden affiliation with porn. Another fucking boob job. 
 
 _SSSSSssssiiiiiighhhhhhh._ 
 
 He's still looking at me like I'm the fucking Easter Bunny. 
 
 And then the pregnancy. My twin brother's random interest in being an uncle. His wristwatch under my bed. I'm angry all over again. 
 
 `` Can I tell you something?'' He asks. 
 
 All I can do is nod. 
 
 `` She wants a divorce.'' 
 
 His eyes are wide and his pupils are honed on mine, like a cat chasing a red dot. 
 
 `` And the judge will give her half of everything,'' He starts to talk fast, `` And you'll have to pay child support on that baby,'' Faster now, `` Andyouaren'teventhefather,'' Huff, huff, `` Andyouseeherinherpornosandyouthinkit'sthoseguys,'' Huffhuff huff, `` Andthepaternitytestwillsayyou'rethefather,'' Hufffffhuffhuff huff huff. 
 
 What the _fuck_. 
 
 He suspends his hands in mid-air, palms facing me. `` But you're _not_. It's your brother's kid. And you ca n't even prove it. And your life is so _fucked_.'' He guffaws a little. 
 
 My life is so fucked. Holy shit. My life is so fucked. 
 
 `` I _know_!'' He croaks. 
 
 I look at him. 
 
 How do you know this? 
 
 `` Like I said, man, you're my favorite character.'' 
 
 Why is this happening? 
 
 `` Because you're a miserable, self-absorbed prick, dude. You're so in your own head that you forget to notice things.'' 
 
 I ca n't open my eyelids wide enough. 
 
 _What._ 
 
 `` But it's okay!'' He exclaims. `` Because the whole theme is —'' 
 
 That's enough, man. That's enough. Get the fuck off my porch. Do n't fucking come back. 
 
 `` Alright! Okay!'' He shakes my hand, too firm to prevent me from slipping away. `` Pleasure to meet you, dude. Watch out for _her_.'' Motioning to the bay window where my faux-busty wife is resting the apparent-illegitimate baby on her silicone shelving, watching us with an appalled look on her face. 
 
 Alright. 
 
 He turns and walks off the porch, making his way down the dirt trail. His head turns to me again. 
 
 `` Hey, good job on the garden by the way. I know she did n't like it, but it looks better than she described it when she was yelling at you.'' 
 
 And he starts to fade away towards the gate. 
 
 Hey. 
 
 He looks at me, cocks his head. 
 
 Thanks. 
 
 Nods, and he is gone.
