Poor Luke

Dad’s taken to walking around the house without a shirt lately. He says it’s because he’s hot, but I think that he’s gotten so fat that none of his robes fit anymore. I’ve offered to buy him new clothes, but he refuses to buy a size bigger. Taking the opportunity of being bare-chested, he’s always asking people to scratch his back. Luke’s the only one stupid enough to do it, as he’s weak-minded and easily led, and last week, he paid the price.

It was right after dinner, and Dad was ready for his post-glutton scratch. Dad had convinced Luke to grow out his finger nails so it would, and I quote, “feel more like a dirty lady’s doing it.” By this point, Luke’s nails were pretty long. Luke began the long scratching process, but didn’t see the large blood-blister in the small of Dad’s back. The engorged cyst was cleverly camouflaged by the thick thatch of hair that protruded from Dad’s anal crack. While down there scratching, Luke inadvertently popped the swelling tumor-like sac, and the high pressure contents of said sac squirted like Mustafar lava all over the young boy’s face.

Unfortunately for Luke, his mouth had been open, as he was doing his “girl voice” for Dad, and about half a liter of blood and puss spewed into his mouth. As a reflex, Luke immediately swallowed it. To make this story even more tragic, Luke had an open canker sore in his mouth, and some of Dad’s blood got in there, as well. A couple of days later Luke came down with a high fever, and Beru took him to the emergency room. After some blood work, it was confirmed that Luke had contracted a pretty nasty STD.

It’s been about a week since the mishap, but Luke still complains that it burns when he pees. As for Dad, he’s begun scratching his back against the hard stucco walls. We always know when he’s done it, because Beru has to clean up the blood smears. Dad calls it “painting the walls for us,” but we explained to him that we don’t want red walls.

Lars- out!