Four Sisters


  “Well this is certainly unprecedented,” says Famine as they walk towards their destination.
  “Tell me about it,” says Pestilence, “four brothers going on a quadruple date with four sisters.”
  “The four sisters,” adds Famine with a smile.
  “There’s just something so-” Pestilence continues, looking for the word.
  “Incestuous?” Famine prompts.
  “Right,” Pestilence replies and the two burst into laughter.
  “Shut it,” Death says without turning around to face them. He’s leading the way to the bar, already irked from the days worth of jibes he’s already received about the set-up. If it were up to him none of his brothers would be invited, but Summer had thought it was a great idea, and she was hard to refuse.
  “Tell us again how you met,” Famine says, a dreamy tone to his voice.
  “I need to learn to just say no,” Death mutters to himself under his breath, “No, Summer, I would rather you didn’t meet my brothers. Why? Oh, because they’re jerks.”
  “It was a steamy night at the mixer,” begins Pestilence from behind in a surprisingly accurate impression of his brother, ignorant to the original’s monologue, "Our eyes met across the Apocalypse punch. We began talking about large families-”
  “And I bet hers isn’t nearly as annoying as you guys,” Death interjects loudly.
  ”-and bada-bing-bada-boom,” Pestilence continues, unperturbed, “it’s on like Donkey Kong. The sex, that is.”
  “Don’t let them get to you,” War says, piping up for the first time since leaving the apartment, “they’re just nervous about meeting real live girls.”
  “Woah woah woah Buddy,”
Famine says, audibly hurt, “I can assure you I’ve seen plenty of live girls. Molly over at the Peppermint Zebra, Uma from Go-Go’s Gig and uh- you know, whatserboobs. The Tuesday and Thursday girl from Lexington’s Empire Erotica.”
  “They don’t count, bud.”
  “They so do count, they count for double points.”
  “Get a life.”
  “Had one. Didn’t stick.”


~ by Joseph Blame on January 28, 2011.

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