And ‘The Brain’ destroyed the E-Type Jag and the 600 Mercedes. He caused The Great Flood then commanded the waters to recede (taking the carpets with them). He smote all the creatures in His Father’s House, par-boiling the fish and slow-roasting the canaries. He cast His Father’s Wine upon His Father’s Stereo and made His Father’s China Hutch bend and break according to His Will.
And behold ‘The Brain’ saw what he had done…AND IT WAS NOT GOOD.
Not fucking good at all…
“Do you think we can fix all this before ‘Scary Bob’ gets home?” asked ‘The Brain’, not well known for his use of rhetoric.
“Well, it’s Sunday today…tomorrow is XMAS Eve, Tuesday is XMAS Day, Wednesday is Boxing Day…and your folks are due home on Thursday…so I’d say you have more chance of getting a blowjob from Jesus,” I offered by way of a reality-check.
“I wonder if ‘Scary Bob’ will see the funny side of all this?” ventured ‘The Brain’.
‘Scary Bob’ was even less well known for his use of humour than ‘The Brain’ was for his use rhetoric.
What followed was a short, earnest conversation about what it meant to be a man. We reminisced about the good times we’d had as kids, as teenagers, the absence of responsibility and lack of accountability…but that at some point as young men we had to accept there were consequences that accompanied certain actions, that young men sometimes did foolish things, but that real men stood up and said “Yes, I did that…I am to blame…and I will make amends.”
It was the first and only meaningful discussion I’ve ever had with ‘The Brain’, who then went to the wall-safe hidden in his parent’s walk-in closet, removed two-thousand dollars and fled by bus to Queensland, where he lived on a barge for the next three years beyond the reach of ‘Scary Bob’.
I haven’t seen a lot of ‘The Brain’ in the intervening years; he went his way and I went mine. We’d run into each other at landmark events such as 30ths and 40ths, weddings and the occasional funeral, but we were never as close again as we were that glorious summer. ‘Scary Bob’ eventually forgave ‘The Brain’ for his sins; even re-hired him with a view to grooming him for the top job at ‘BHC Ltd’.
However ‘The Brain’ chose to walk his own path in life, turning his back on a career in construction management to take up a lucrative position in the methamphetamine-distribution game and doing very nicely until he started using his own product and poking his supplier’s Columbian girlfriend and was chased at gunpoint down his home street in Bondi Junction.
He’s now forty-seven years old and lives in Perth.
Last year he married that Columbian girl; she is half his age and already has two children half her age from her previous relationship, which ended abruptly after her boyfriend was given a ten-year jail sentence for dealing drugs.
I went over for the wedding…
‘The Brain’ looked trim, taut and terrific, his new wife was utterly gorgeous and a really lovely, intelligent young woman, the kids were very friendly and beautifully behaved. Together ‘The Brain’ and ‘Mrs Brain’ run their own small construction/renovation business, which is doing well…and he’s happier than most people I know.
I bet you judgemental cunts didn’t see that coming…
PS…as a wedding present, ‘Scary Bob’ gave ‘The Brain’ a complete dental restoration to repair the damage done to his teeth by the crystal meth addiction. His new teeth are about three sizes too big for his mouth, so he now looks a bit like Dick Emery’s priest character when he smiles. I’d post a wedding photo as proof…but even ‘The Brain’ is entitled to his privacy…