Chapter 1
Ava
My mom was going to kill me. No doubt about it. When she found out I had just accepted a job, sight unseen, on the West coast, she was going to flip out. The ‘you know what’ would hit the fan in the Middleton house. First my brother, and now me. Holy Toledo! How the heck would I pull this one off? I just booked a flight to leave the day after next. I was going to Seattle to meet my new boss and start my new job. Cheezits, I was really in for it now.
Mom had no clue what had been going on in my life. All she noticed was that I had put on a few pounds lately. The weight was the least of my worries though. Everything had gone to hell in a hand basket. The only bright star was this new job at SoftwarePlus and it was going to be awesome.
Thank God my friend and trusty realtor Alana, was handling the selling of my duplex. Melissa, my neighbor that owned the other half, and I had worked out a deal. She would keep an eye on things for me after I left.
Melissa...I was really gonna miss that girl. When I first met her I wasn’t too sure about her. I mean, she kind of scared me. She was a sumo wrestler in training and she was sort of frightening...and big. I mean really big. The first time she fist bumped me I thought she broke my knuckles. Then she told me she needed to un-girly me and that I was too much of a wuss.
I never paid her too much mind until the night I had my run in with this loser I’d been dating, Mike Dixon, a.k.a. Mikey Schmikey. After a couple of months of trying to convince myself he was a nice enough guy and that I needed to give him more of a chance, I came to the conclusion that there just weren’t any more chances left in me. I had run slap out of them. The guy was a pain in my butt, besides the fact he thought he was the greatest thing that God had given to women. And, please God forgive me, but he was butt ass ugly. I tried...oh how I tried. But I finally decided to tell him that we weren’t going to make it as a couple.
Well, Mikey Schmikey suddenly decided he forgot what the word “No” meant. He lunged for me, pushed me around, hit and then punched me, ripped my shirt off and did his best to maul me. When he unleashed his prized manhood, I looked down, and to my utter horror, my eyes nearly popped out of my head. Oh, it wasn’t because of what you’re thinking. No, it was quite the opposite. Mikey Schmikey was actually Little Dickie. I mean...itty bitty teeny weenie. Maybe even pinkie toe dick. A gurgle of laughter burst forth from the furthest depths of my being and it rose to a crescendo unlike anything I’d ever heard. I’m pretty sure Little Dickie had never heard anything like it either.
To make matters worse, and I knew at the time I shouldn’t have said it, but I just couldn’t stop myself, I looked at him and said, “And just what do you intend to do with that? Have a little beanie with that teeny weenie?”
His face went from tanning booth brown, to a mottled shade of red to outright purple, right before he growled and lunged at me, brandishing that pinkie toe dick (that is if one can actually brandish something that tiny) and yelling how he was going to teach me proper manners where penis size was concerned.
Then, as he chased me around my duplex, I was screaming at him and frantically looking for some type of weapon to defend myself with. Unfortunately, the only thing I could lay my hands on was my favorite childhood stuffed animal, which was a rather large, dark brown dachshund. I started batting him with it and hollering obscenities at him and his pinkie toe dick. Oh, don’t worry. The irony was not lost on me that I was beating him with a stuffed wiener dog.
Lucky for me, Melissa was home and upon hearing me screaming and hollering, she came barreling through the door and had Little Dickie and his pinkie toe dick in a sumo wrestling hold beneath her three hundred pounds of girth with him crying out, “Uncle, uncle!” And then he started to pee and his pinkie toe dick was squirting in the air just like you see those water fountains of little naked baby boys doing.
“Jesus! What kind of man pees all over himself? Damn Ava!”
“Look at him Melissa. He was chasing me with that thing,” I said, biting hard on my lip, trying my best not to laugh.
“Ava, go get your phone right now.”
I ran and got my phone.
“Now take pictures of this. This needs to be posted all over Facebook and tweeted all over the place right away. Instagram it too. We’ll see how much of a man--hey what did you call him?”
“Little Dickie with the pinkie toe dick.”
“Yeah. Take a picture of that pinkie toe dick too. Hey, you got a ruler?”
“Yeah, why?”
Well, you need a little perspective here.”
Suddenly, Little Dickie started crying, “No, please, I’ll do anything. Don’t do that. Please.”