Eve came down the steps in the soft light of dawn and stumbled over her drug-addicted father. Not too many people knew about the drug addiction because not too many people had ever been in their house first thing in the morning to trip over him. This was a common thing for dear Eve. She called for the housekeeper to come help her hoist him (alliteration) into an ornate wing-back chair.
“Agnes!” she cried. “Poppa has fallen again.”
Agnes appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron and pushing sweaty strands of hair off her forehead. She had been working for the family ever since Eve’s mother died in a mysterious accident with a giant squid. Since squids leave no evidence of ever being alive, the forensic details have always remained sketchy. It is safe to say there was a fair amount of mucus involved. Agnes was wide of hip and stern of mind, and Eve’s father adored her. When Eve was off doing something with her friends, Agnes would often entice him to join her for a quick boink atop the washing machine – where she always set it for an extra spin/rinse. Enough said.
Agnes looked annoyed. After all, she had been busy in the kitchen trying to make churros from scratch. Everyone knows you need a churro machine thing to do it, but Agnes insisted it could be done with a contraption she had made from an old caulking gun. If Leonardo Da Vinci had not been gay, he would have probably been her great great great great grandfather.
Agnes grabbed hold of Eve’s father with a firm hold around his neck. One good yank and he woke up quickly, staggering to his feet.
“Get up, you old ass,” she barked lovingly.
He stumbled to his feet and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked down and saw a huge, growing stain covering the front of his pants.
Nancy cried with disappointment, “Poppa! You’ve pissed yourself again!”
Agnes huffed and scratched her ample bosom. “You aren’t going to sit in that ornate wing-backed chair, little mister! Get out of here now and go take a shower.” She gave him a friendly shove and he slowly ambled down the hall.
Eve looked at Agnes quizzically. “Why does my poppa fall all the time?”
Agnes pulled Eve into that ample bosom and squeezed her until she saw stars. Eve saw the stars, Agnes just squeezed.
“He has an inner ear disorder,” Agnes lied snakily.
Just then, a large bird smashed through the picture window! Agnes and Eve jumped and ran to see about the poor bird. When they got close, it was apparent that the bird was one of those fake owls that people put on their roofs to scare aware pigeons.
“Why, it’s nothing but a decoy!” exclaimed Eve. “I wonder who would throw such a thing through our window!”
She bent down and examined the owl. She turned it over slowly and saw a scribbling written in Sharpie. The words chilled her marrow, and there is nothing much worse than cold bones like that.
EVE IS A SLUT
She turned to Agnes and said, “Bring on those churros, mi amiga housekeeper! I need to do some sleuthing today!”
Agnes gazed evenly at Eve and asked, “Why would anyone say that about you, Eve? Are you letting Curious Dennis have his way with you?
Eve never liked to see Agnes upset. So she lied to her. “Just to second base. I promise. ”
Relieved, Agnes put her arm around Eve’s shoulders and led her into the kitchen. “Let’s not keep that hot grease waiting. And after what your father did this morning, he deserves a cold churro.”
