Fritos
by Alexander Salas
“I want Fritos...yeah, Fritos for breakfast.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Jed barks at Billy as he stands topless scratching his balls through the hole of his boxers. “Betty! Betty, get your ass out here and makes us some breakfast.”
Betty stumbles into the kitchen. Her hair in disarray. Her breath reeking of a brewery. “Good morning Billy, my sweet. Where's Jr.? What you fellas want?” She wears one of Jed's wife-beater t-shirts like a dress with nothing on underneath. Her nipples blossom though the white tank top.
“I want Fritos”
“Shut the fuck up. You fucking retard.” Jed roars. “And what the hell you mean ‘what you fellas want’...huh? We want breakfast...that's what we fellas want.”
Jr. saunters into the room dressed in his class of `09 sweatshirt, blue jeans and a LSU hat. “Why you yelling, pop?”
“Because it's my fucking house and I'll yell if I want to yell.” Jed's bellowing echoes off the walls.
“I want Fritos. I want Fr...”
Sllllaaaaaaaaaap.
Jed's gigantic bear-claw leaves a rosy hand print on the side of Billy's face. The twelve-year-old erupts crying.
“You stop that crying boy. You hear me. Or I swear I'll give you something to cry about.”
“Stop it Jed. Now stop it. He means no harm. He can't help himself. You know he's retarded.” Betty gently brings Billy's head into her bosom. “Ah baby, you okay Billy?”
Jed yanks Betty away from their son. “Quit babying the boy. I know he's retarded but he's still got to grow up to be a man.” He eyes her from head to toe. Jed lifts the bottom of Betty's make-shift dress exposing her pubic hair. “And what the fuck you mean by wearing almost nothing in front of the boys. Huh? What kind of a momma are you?” He shoves her down to the floor. “Now you get your ass dressed and hurry the fuck back and make up some break-.”
“Leave her alone!”
“What?” Jed turns to face Jr. “What you say to me boy” His hard stare drills holes in Jr.
“I said leave her alone.” Jr. pulls out a switch-blade from his pants pocket. He clicks it open.
“Well, well, well. What you gonna do with that knife boy? Hah.”
“J-J-J-Jr., p-p-put that away, honey. I'm okay.” Betty stumbles to her feet.
Billy tears stop. He begins. “I want Fritos. I want Fritos. I want...”
“Jesus Betty, look what you gave me. A half-wit and a dip shit. Two dumbasses, who if I could, I would shove them back in your pussy and hope you spit out one damn boy who is worth a shit.” Jed inches closer to Jr.
Jr. waves the blade with his right hand. Jed snatches Jr. right wrist-
“Stop-I-it-want-you-Fritos-two-I-stop-want-it-Fritos...”
-Jr. brings his left knee into his father's goodies. Jed crumbles to the ground gasping for air-
“...want-it-Fritos-stop-I-it-want-stop-Fritos...”
-Jr. grabs his dad's hair, picks up Jed's head and slices his father's throat nearly drowning himself in blood.
“...stop-want-it-Fritos-st...I want Fritos. I want Fritos...”
Betty freezes.
“...I want Fritos. I want Fritos...”
“Look what you done. You, you, you killed him. Jr. you killed him. Why? Why you kill him Jr.” Betty asks.
“...I want Fritos...I want Fritos...”
“Why? You ask me why?” Jr. lets go of Jed's head. Jed falls face first, dead. “You should have killed him yourself, long time ago.” He drops the switchblade.
“...I want Fritos...I want Fritos...”
“Me? Me? Why should I've kill him. It was you two. Both of you who made him the way he was. Not me, Jr.”
Jr. sucker-punches his mother. She collapses like a rag doll.
“...I want Fritos. I want Fritos...”
Jr. walks over to the counter and grabs a butcher knife. He stabs his mother over and over again.
“...I want Fritos. I want Fritos...”
Jed stares at Billy. A mixture of his parent's blood shroud him. He opens a cabinet and snatches a brand new bag of family-size Fritos. He hands the Fritos to Billy.
“Thank you.” Billy smiles.
“Shut the fuck up.” Jed barks at Billy as he stands topless scratching his balls through the hole of his boxers. “Betty! Betty, get your ass out here and makes us some breakfast.”
Betty stumbles into the kitchen. Her hair in disarray. Her breath reeking of a brewery. “Good morning Billy, my sweet. Where's Jr.? What you fellas want?” She wears one of Jed's wife-beater t-shirts like a dress with nothing on underneath. Her nipples blossom though the white tank top.
“I want Fritos”
“Shut the fuck up. You fucking retard.” Jed roars. “And what the hell you mean ‘what you fellas want’...huh? We want breakfast...that's what we fellas want.”
Jr. saunters into the room dressed in his class of `09 sweatshirt, blue jeans and a LSU hat. “Why you yelling, pop?”
“Because it's my fucking house and I'll yell if I want to yell.” Jed's bellowing echoes off the walls.
“I want Fritos. I want Fr...”
Sllllaaaaaaaaaap.
Jed's gigantic bear-claw leaves a rosy hand print on the side of Billy's face. The twelve-year-old erupts crying.
“You stop that crying boy. You hear me. Or I swear I'll give you something to cry about.”
“Stop it Jed. Now stop it. He means no harm. He can't help himself. You know he's retarded.” Betty gently brings Billy's head into her bosom. “Ah baby, you okay Billy?”
Jed yanks Betty away from their son. “Quit babying the boy. I know he's retarded but he's still got to grow up to be a man.” He eyes her from head to toe. Jed lifts the bottom of Betty's make-shift dress exposing her pubic hair. “And what the fuck you mean by wearing almost nothing in front of the boys. Huh? What kind of a momma are you?” He shoves her down to the floor. “Now you get your ass dressed and hurry the fuck back and make up some break-.”
“Leave her alone!”
“What?” Jed turns to face Jr. “What you say to me boy” His hard stare drills holes in Jr.
“I said leave her alone.” Jr. pulls out a switch-blade from his pants pocket. He clicks it open.
“Well, well, well. What you gonna do with that knife boy? Hah.”
“J-J-J-Jr., p-p-put that away, honey. I'm okay.” Betty stumbles to her feet.
Billy tears stop. He begins. “I want Fritos. I want Fritos. I want...”
“Jesus Betty, look what you gave me. A half-wit and a dip shit. Two dumbasses, who if I could, I would shove them back in your pussy and hope you spit out one damn boy who is worth a shit.” Jed inches closer to Jr.
Jr. waves the blade with his right hand. Jed snatches Jr. right wrist-
“Stop-I-it-want-you-Fritos-two-I-stop-want-it-Fritos...”
-Jr. brings his left knee into his father's goodies. Jed crumbles to the ground gasping for air-
“...want-it-Fritos-stop-I-it-want-stop-Fritos...”
-Jr. grabs his dad's hair, picks up Jed's head and slices his father's throat nearly drowning himself in blood.
“...stop-want-it-Fritos-st...I want Fritos. I want Fritos...”
Betty freezes.
“...I want Fritos. I want Fritos...”
“Look what you done. You, you, you killed him. Jr. you killed him. Why? Why you kill him Jr.” Betty asks.
“...I want Fritos...I want Fritos...”
“Why? You ask me why?” Jr. lets go of Jed's head. Jed falls face first, dead. “You should have killed him yourself, long time ago.” He drops the switchblade.
“...I want Fritos...I want Fritos...”
“Me? Me? Why should I've kill him. It was you two. Both of you who made him the way he was. Not me, Jr.”
Jr. sucker-punches his mother. She collapses like a rag doll.
“...I want Fritos. I want Fritos...”
Jr. walks over to the counter and grabs a butcher knife. He stabs his mother over and over again.
“...I want Fritos. I want Fritos...”
Jed stares at Billy. A mixture of his parent's blood shroud him. He opens a cabinet and snatches a brand new bag of family-size Fritos. He hands the Fritos to Billy.
“Thank you.” Billy smiles.
Rejected by The Flash Fiction Offensive