All this talk of my white trash cancer tenants got me thinking. Last night my friend Linda began proposing interesting ways to kill the White Trash C's. Linda envisioned blowing up their meth lab, along with other clever removal methods for the C family. Now, I'm not willing to have a meth lab, even imaginary, in my body. But I do like the idea of inventing fun and interesting ways to evict my little White Trash Cancer Nemeses.
How I see it, Billy Bob, Mary Jo, and little Buford and Betty Jo are more your trailer park, windows covered with a Confederate flag, big-ass satellite dish propped outside, beer cans strewn across the lawn kind of White Trash family.
They have a big, fancy car but never buy new clothes for the kids, instead taking clothing from church give aways and other sources of donated items. The C's have have been seen late at night pawing through donations dropped off behind Goodwill. Meanwhile, their car has gold hubcaps that spin.
Here's where I thought things could start. The C's live in a trailer in a trailer park of course. Now we know they've been roaming the hood, breaking out light bulbs in nicer neighborhoods, but they always go home to their well-used trailer at night. A trailer that could easily be lifted from its base by a well-timed tornado.
Let's make sure the C's are at home. Mary Jo is chain smoking cigarettes, rocking rapidly back and forth in her ratty easy chair. Billy Bob is on the couch, chugging a beer. He belches as he finishes the can, and grabs another from a cooler, rubbing the can against his hairy bare belly to cool himself down. Buford and Betty Jo are in the bedroom, posting taunts on school mates' Facebook pages. They don't notice the sky darkening. They don't hear the sound of a train coming up toward their trailer.
The signs are a bit gentle at first, the curtains blow in every room. But then the wind picks up, sending curtains stretched up and away from windows in a constant stream. Betty Jo is just about to post a taunt on an overweight classmate's Facebook page, a taunt she has posted before. The sound of the train comes closer.
Finally, Mary Jo gets up from her chair and looks out the window. She sees the massive funnel heading straight to their door. "Holy shit, Billy Bob! Here comes a tornado!"
Billy Bob grabs his cooler and sprints for the door. He doesn't look back to the children's bedroom. Mary Jo runs to the door as well, kicking the dog who had unfortunately gotten in the way. Betty Jo and Buford leave their computer on the bed, and crawl into the closest in their room.
Just as Billy Bob opens the trailer door, the tornado is only several feet away. The wind grabs the door, Billy Bob's hand firmly wrapped around the door's handle, and he and his cooler are thrown high into the air and across the field. Mary Jo rears back but it's too late. The wind grabs her and throws her bodily after Billy Bob. Somehow Mary Jo has kept her cigarette gripped tightly between her lips during the entire flight.
The children? They never left the trailer but instead rode that tornado pony far up into the sky, across the fields and kerplunk heavily back to the ground. The only member of the C family who survived is the dog, who sprinted out of the trailer between Billy Bob's legs, running into a ditch and hiding until the storm was over. He now is named Gorman and lives with a very kind family who gave him his own dog bed and lets him sleep with them in bed at night. He is never kicked and only petted.
Interestingly, Gorman was a friend of Beatrice the liver and had been secretly telling her about the C family's damages to Beatrice's part of town. She could have had the C family arrested for all the damage they caused, but truthfully Beatrice is just as happy they and their trailer perished in a fast-working, wind-defying tornado of revenge. Just as long as the White Trash C family are out of her life. That's all that matters.
Got another idea for killing off the White Trash Cancer family? Let me know. We could have a nice series of killing the Cancer family. Let's make cancer killing fun.
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