Page 21 of Someone Save My Midlife Tonight

“I would guess that would be everyone who has ever met him,” I muttered.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT. I’M FABULOUS,” Shitty Ritchie screamed.

I waved my hand and created a protection bubble around us. There was no way in hell to have any kind of productive conversation with Shitty Ritchie within hearing distance. We now had privacy.

Tim gave me a smile. “Thank you, friend. But my point is that the little Immortal is clearly trapped by who he is. I believe that’s why he is being hunted.

I screwed up my face. “Umm… he’s a dick. That could be why he’s being hunted. That is, if he’s even telling the truth.”

“That nard is tellin’ the truth,” Candy Vargo said. “I can smell me a liar any time.”

“What?” I asked, surprised. “You can literally smell a lie?”

“You bet your Little Debbie vagina I can. That tiny bunghole is on the run. He ain’t lyin’.” she informed me. “Lies smell like flambéed ass cooked with chocolate chips and sauerkraut.”

I didn’t know what the hell to say to that. Neither did anyone else.

“And more to your point, ain’t nobody in our world ever been offed for bein’ a dick,” she said. “Heck and testicles, I’d be dead a million times over if that was the case.”

“Amen to that,” Gabe said with a grin.

“Zip it, Angel,” Candy Vargo shot back with a chuckle. “Ate ya once, I can do it again.”

All four of my Angel siblings—Gabe, Abby, Rafe and Prue—paled considerably. The rest of us were running a very close second.

“Oh my freaking god,” I said with a gag. First, flambéed ass, chocolate chips and sauerkraut, and now, cannibalism.

Gram was about done. “Candy Vargo, I’m fixin’ to tear you a new rump that you ain’t gonna be able to sit on for a decade. Ain’t nobody gonna be eatin’ nobody. You hear me, girlie?”

“I’m jokin’,” Candy Vargo announced, throwing her hands up in surrender. “Can’t a gal make a joke?”

“The answer to that… is hell to the no,” Heather said right after expelling a huge breath. “Not unless you live in Idaho where it’s illegal.”

Candy nodded. “I see what you mean. My bad.”

“Moving on,” I said quickly. It was getting late. We had a whole lot of people and no place to sleep. Plus, if Candy Vargo kept talking, I’d puke.

Tim took over. “Shitty Ritchie is very obviously in trouble. The only leverage we might have is to offer help in return for help. I say we bargain.”

“We don’t even know what we want fromhim. I don’t want him near my child. He’s untrustworthy and violent,” I said, feeling a little hysterical. “What the heck are we bargaining for?”

“Don’t matter,” Candy Vargo said. “We start somewhere, meander for a while and then we get there. Happens all the corn nuttin’ time.”

Everyone nodded… except for me.

I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. “Is everyone crazy here?” I hissed. “I suppose that might be a rhetorical question, but letting Crappy Pappy lead the way seems like a recipe for a bigger disaster than we’re already in.”

Tim smiled and patted my back. “Ahh, yes, friend. But… we haven’t put the rules in place yet. All good plans of mice and men often go awry… unless there are consequences and parameters. We’ll keep that in mind. As we proceed, we shall discover the process that will work with the least amount of property damage.” Tim looked at the pile of rubble that used to be my house. “I do so wish Shitty Ritchie hadn’t blown up the house. So unnecessary.”

A thought hit me like a brick thrown at close range. “Wishes.”

“What?” Gideon asked.

“Wishes” I repeated, feeling the calmest I’d felt in a while. “We’ll trade wishes. Shitty Ritchie already mentioned wishes twice.”

“Threeeeeeeeeeeeee!” Jimmy George Carrots insisted.

I tilted my head in confusion. What did he know that I didn’t. “Three wishes?”

---