age: 43 height: 3’2” temperament: surprisingly not alt right, respectful
“WOAH WHO’S THAT TINY GUY??” asked my mom one morning while walking down the street to get brunch with my new step-dad. i said “woah mom! don’t point and stare!” she said “oh shut up you soy boy beta male cuck biiiitch!” i cried and then said “what has MARK (my new step-dad) been teaching you?” she rolled her eyes and then stormed ahead of me, not interested in continuing this conversation about Mark, my new step-dad.
eventually we reached brunch and Mark was already outside at the patio, with his bros, Anthony and Jamar. “Oh fuck you brought the dumb ass again?” said Mark. “Sorry baby, we didn’t have any dog food at home" replied my mother. “HAHA ZING nice one!” Jamar said, while fist bumping my mom.
we sat down, Mark had already ordered for us. within minutes Mark, Anthony, and Jamar all had steaks, my mother a cobb salad, and me a bowl of insipidly thin broth. “What is this?” I said while bring my nose for a closer sniff, the waiter smirking “toilet bowl water.” At that moment, Anthony shoved my face into the bowl.
At first I thought it was hilarious classic “shove-head-in-pee-water-in-bowl-at-fancy-brunch-restaurant” prank, but Anthony held for too long, until I had trouble breathing. Eventually I blacked out.
I woke up with that Tiny Guy from before on the street at my hospital bed side. He told me that he saw the entire incident and had called the police. Mark, Anthony, Jamar and my mother had all been arrested for attempted murder, and the Tiny Guy had been the courageous one who had saved me. I thanked him and asked for his name, it was Shrompu. I told him it was a very silly sounding name, he agreed, but i said that was beside the fact, because “in my books, you’re my real step-dad.” I hugged him, and cried a little.
Shrompu and I meet for brunch every Sunday to catch up. He’s a manager at the local grocery store, and roller blades on weekends.
