Warning-Project X in Poetics: A Short Story

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Paper plates with mashed potatoes underneath the priceless photos and the origami lotus blossom is totaled. Plastic red cups filled with mixed stuff and some are melted in the stove. The smell of burnt plastic ashes released to roam through the ruins of his parents’ home.

“Shit.”

Blue balloons popped and strewn through the kitchen and living room are covered in sticky shit that kinda almost smells like cheese wiz. Toilet paper dances in the trees, fluttering in the morning breeze and someone took the time to take all the fallen leaves and stuff them in the toilet. They then wrote: Flush Me Please 🙂

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

Glitter mountains gleam here and there and there’s a steady stream of underwear that leads to his room, and God not there! Yes, his parents’ sheets need to be changed. The family portrait has been removed from its picture frame, the TV’s got something wrong with the display, and somebody at some point played his Xbox 360. Before puking on it.

“Fuck.”

The welcome mat now sports a whipped cream dick, and the car is full of condoms and someone lit a candle on the top of it. The gnome is gone, as to be expected, and the flagpole no longer stands erect and he believes he can detect the faint sound of his mother’s music box off in the distance. But this is the least of his worries.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

All over town they are now. Nursing hangovers and wounds and how did this happen to him anyway? All he had to say was that his parents were away. For the weekend, just for the weekend. It all happened so freakin’ fast. And now the time to act has passed.

Parents take my advice to avoid such situations: Don’t advertise your departures or leaves of absence, because responsible kids won’t suffice when he or she comes up against peer pressure. However unreasonable that seems, it’s right. This scene could happen to you, too, because this is what teenagers do. In a world where there are no cops or conservative neighbors, where there is an unlimited supply of toilet paper, this is the result of vacations.

Know your children’s limitations. They can’t say no, and the kegs will come on their own, and no one will know how to stop it as the drunk teens pop and lock it through the night. Responsible parents, do what’s right. Because this fear is justified. It’s not a media-endorsed lie. It’s true. And it will happen to you.

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