laughed, "America sucks balls, and who's the biggest cocksucker?"
Brock turned his head in Abigail's direction at the head of the table, whispering, "It's her. She sucks the biggest balls."
Ernest announced N-2, and Abigail flipped out, spinning once around in her wheelchair . She put her hand up in the air. "BINGO! I have a bingo!"
Broc k flipped his card upside down. "Ah, I never win."
"You won four weeks ago, remember?" Flo jabbed her finger into his arm. "You got that pug calendar."
"Oh yeah. "Pugs In Wagons.""
Mary-Jo eyed Gloria from across the table. "Gloria really wanted that pug calendar. She would've stuffed her old pug if her son hadn't cremated him first. The kid found the bug belly up on the carpet and he just took the body right to the vet clinic."
Before Gloria could speak any further on subject, Ernest walked off the stage and held up the prize. What was a plug-in phone in the shape of a banana. Abigail pretended to talk into it, "Hey everyone, it's my son. He's calling me for the first time in two years."
The blue hairs laughed, and Brock laughed with them. He remembered being out-of-work, needing friends, and finding a posted flyer outside the St. Anthony Community Center announcing bingo nights. It was a forty dollar a year membership fee, but it was well worth it. These ladies were his mothers and foul-mouthed sailors wrapped up in one package, but most importantly, they were sweet people. He couldn't get enough of them.
Brock couldn't help but let it slip, "I wonder what she's going to do with that phone later."
Flo snorted, "So that's why she's spinning in her chair."
Ernest dug i nto the box trying to determine the next prize.
"He's thinking really hard," Brock said aloud so everyone in the room could hear. "This is going to be good, isn't it, Ernest? They didn't go to the dollar store for this prize, no they didn't."
Ernest ruffled his bushy feathery white eyebrow s at him, saying in an eyeful, 'You're going to set them off. Don't talk like that.'
He dug deeper, dissuaded to pick what he first had in mind.
"It better not be a scented candle."
Ernest huffed this time, clutching an item and then releasing it again within the box.
Brock had everybody clapping, whistling, cheering, and then chanting, "Pick something good!" "Pick something good!" "Pick something good!"
Ernest shook his head in frustration. After working hard, he located something he was pleased with and raised it up. It was a box of expensive chocolates.
"Decadent," Brock announced, putting his chips into a pile and slapping down a cleared card. He whispered to Flo, though he purposefully spoke loud enough for everyone to hear him. "My new lady friend would love those chocolates. I'd get some then, right ladies? You've been put to bed with chocolate before. Admit it. We all have. Even me."
Flo, Abigail, Mary-Jo and the rest of the ladies gave him an interested stare, detecting juicy gossip ahead.
Flo was the first to ask as Ernest called out the first letter and number for the next game, "Who is this girl?"
"Hannah . And she asked me to marry her."
He mentioned Hannah on a regular basis.
"Oh Brock, it's about time. You've been shacking up with her. It's about time you stopped milking the cow for free."
The game stopped in that moment, and Ernest called out numbers and letters to no avail. The women stared at him lovingly. Flo took his hand, smiling. "We're proud of you, Brock. We've been rooting for you the whole time. We don't care what the tabloids say about you. You've changed for the better. Marrying Hannah would be another one good move. She's quite a dish."
"I'm nervous . I've never been married before."
"Fifty- two years old and not married," Flo whistled. "How did that happen?"
"It's hard to marry or develop romances when you're producing movies and working 24/7. And I was born into th at environment. It
Brock turned his head in Abigail's direction at the head of the table, whispering, "It's her. She sucks the biggest balls."
Ernest announced N-2, and Abigail flipped out, spinning once around in her wheelchair . She put her hand up in the air. "BINGO! I have a bingo!"
Broc k flipped his card upside down. "Ah, I never win."
"You won four weeks ago, remember?" Flo jabbed her finger into his arm. "You got that pug calendar."
"Oh yeah. "Pugs In Wagons.""
Mary-Jo eyed Gloria from across the table. "Gloria really wanted that pug calendar. She would've stuffed her old pug if her son hadn't cremated him first. The kid found the bug belly up on the carpet and he just took the body right to the vet clinic."
Before Gloria could speak any further on subject, Ernest walked off the stage and held up the prize. What was a plug-in phone in the shape of a banana. Abigail pretended to talk into it, "Hey everyone, it's my son. He's calling me for the first time in two years."
The blue hairs laughed, and Brock laughed with them. He remembered being out-of-work, needing friends, and finding a posted flyer outside the St. Anthony Community Center announcing bingo nights. It was a forty dollar a year membership fee, but it was well worth it. These ladies were his mothers and foul-mouthed sailors wrapped up in one package, but most importantly, they were sweet people. He couldn't get enough of them.
Brock couldn't help but let it slip, "I wonder what she's going to do with that phone later."
Flo snorted, "So that's why she's spinning in her chair."
Ernest dug i nto the box trying to determine the next prize.
"He's thinking really hard," Brock said aloud so everyone in the room could hear. "This is going to be good, isn't it, Ernest? They didn't go to the dollar store for this prize, no they didn't."
Ernest ruffled his bushy feathery white eyebrow s at him, saying in an eyeful, 'You're going to set them off. Don't talk like that.'
He dug deeper, dissuaded to pick what he first had in mind.
"It better not be a scented candle."
Ernest huffed this time, clutching an item and then releasing it again within the box.
Brock had everybody clapping, whistling, cheering, and then chanting, "Pick something good!" "Pick something good!" "Pick something good!"
Ernest shook his head in frustration. After working hard, he located something he was pleased with and raised it up. It was a box of expensive chocolates.
"Decadent," Brock announced, putting his chips into a pile and slapping down a cleared card. He whispered to Flo, though he purposefully spoke loud enough for everyone to hear him. "My new lady friend would love those chocolates. I'd get some then, right ladies? You've been put to bed with chocolate before. Admit it. We all have. Even me."
Flo, Abigail, Mary-Jo and the rest of the ladies gave him an interested stare, detecting juicy gossip ahead.
Flo was the first to ask as Ernest called out the first letter and number for the next game, "Who is this girl?"
"Hannah . And she asked me to marry her."
He mentioned Hannah on a regular basis.
"Oh Brock, it's about time. You've been shacking up with her. It's about time you stopped milking the cow for free."
The game stopped in that moment, and Ernest called out numbers and letters to no avail. The women stared at him lovingly. Flo took his hand, smiling. "We're proud of you, Brock. We've been rooting for you the whole time. We don't care what the tabloids say about you. You've changed for the better. Marrying Hannah would be another one good move. She's quite a dish."
"I'm nervous . I've never been married before."
"Fifty- two years old and not married," Flo whistled. "How did that happen?"
"It's hard to marry or develop romances when you're producing movies and working 24/7. And I was born into th at environment. It
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