jersey shore gang

it was the 4th of july. the kids and i were in the hollywood hills waiting for tony to come back with the suburban. we were making a picnic dinner to eat during the concert before the fireworks. the kids were singing and playing games and it felt happy in the house. i was finishing up in the kitchen and heard a loud crack and splitting of wood. the kids near the front door started to scream. i ran toward them but was stopped dead by 'the situation'. i looked behind him and all the orange-skinned, slimy cast members from the jersey shore were grouped in a triangle like big-haired bowling pins and all of them were holding guns. the situation looked at my shocked expression and said,  'that's right, i'm 'the sitch' and these here be my gang...' as he threw some fake, made-up gang sign known only to new jersey douches. his accent was 'jersey' but his affectation was weirdly fey- like he wasn't out of the closet yet but was so desperately gay his body was making it drip out of his every mannerism. for example, he pursed his lips and tilted his head after every comment. also, he waived his gun around so that his wrists would wind up in a little flourish each time. i tried to get the kids to run into the woods by signaling them with my eyes (a game they knew) but the little ones clung to my leg in total fright and would not budge and the older kids stayed rooted to their spots and watched helplessly. 'look,' said 'the sitch', 'we know tony's worth a few hundred million- all we want is all of it and he gets his kids back no problemo!' at this comment the sitch apparently felt amused and looked back to his cast-mates for high fives and other affirmations. it was easy to see that they were all stupid, but i couldn't take a chance on calling their bluff to get out with the kids because i knew from experience that  some of the most unpredictable people in the world are also the dumbest. soon tony pulled up. i tried to tell him with my eyes that there was danger, but even though i knew he understood, his kids were there, so he came in full force anyway. knowing the older kids could take care of the younger ones i said to the situation, 'that's a good plan, except it's a holiday, so no banks are open. there's going to be a lot of dirty diapers, crying and vomit if we take the kids anywhere, why don't you take me, leave tony here with the kids and tomorrow when the banks open, we can all find out that I'm a family member too and you'll get your money. this seemed to totally stump the stupid gang. the house now reeked of spray tan, over-applied versace cologne and the cloying sweetness of chanel number 5 and it was starting to make me feel nauseous- but i knew none of them would want to get baby shit under their plastic fingernails. i finally convinced them to let bailey (who was 13, could take charge and think his way through anything) take the babies into the woods (there was a well hidden path directly to his grandparents house, but the stupid gang figured they would just be lost in there. I put together some food and diaper/wipe essentials for the little ones, packed them into the pockets of the dog's trail carrier, strapped the baby on bailey, cinched the pack on the dog and sent him quickly off with three other little ones trailing behind.

poor little esme had to come along with tony and i.

fast forward and we are in some obscure laughlin hotel room. tony, esme and i are in our clothes and sleeping side by side on a king sized bed with polyester sheets, a crappy mattress and foam pillows. both esme and tony were in deep sleep and lightly snoring. i wrapped my body protectively around esme and stared into the darkness. the door opened and the jersey shore gang crept into our room and started whispering that we looked like a bed full of money. i closed my eyes and feigned sleep. within moments the room grew hot and damp and silently filled with somalian gang members. they were huge and muscular. they began to reach into the throats of the jersey shore gang and pull out their epiglottis and lungs. except for a slight gurgling sound, it was a fairly quiet process. the sitch was forced to watch it all before it was his turn. the terror on his face was immense. 'but, what about them?' he said pointing to us, 'they're worth millions!' 'we want BILLIONS.' said the somalian leader. 'if they stay asleep, they win and go back to their lives- you on the other hand are going to stop bringing unwanted attention and skimming our profits right now.' with that, he reached into the situations mouth and pulled his heart out through his throat. i was so terrified i stopped breathing. i listened and tony and esme were still snoring. i somehow found it within myself to emulate the rhythm of their breath and kept the rhythm as one by one the bodies of the jersey shore gang were dropped out of the hotel window, each landing with a sickening thud and crack on the pavement below.  

the somali pirates stood for a  moment at the foot of our bed until they felt satisfied we were unaware and still asleep. i heard them leave and laid still until dawn came. as the light filled the room, i saw the walls were covered in blood.