The Brother's Wife.... pt. II

Ah, Mystery Time
Why do I hate you so much?
Because you suck ass

And on with the Show!

Alright so soon afterward, I had spent some time at my mom's house, with my sister in Holt for about 2 days (I don't like kids), I moved into the house on Woodland with my brother and.....Mystery.

The House (as it will be known from now on) belonged to my great uncle, and I do not remember much about him other than he raised Akitas and had a sweet ass boat tail 1972 Buick Riviera, which was carefully taken apart and sitting in the basement. The house had fallen under disrepair, with a hole in the roof, the carpet in really bad shape (it was a wine color but from years of disuse had some noticeable stains and stuff on it), the kitchen looked like a garage (it had no linoleum, just plywood pretty much and a sink) and the whole place smelled like old person and urine. Great success!

We tear the carpet up, move our stuff in, and settle into what was to become my home for the next 2 years. The house looked so bad, even though my bus stop was on the same corner the house was on I would walk 3 blocks up to the next stop in order to avoid embarrassment. More on the house and the myriad of wildlife that lived in the attic because of the many holes in the roof later. This story is about Mystery.

So it is Thanksgiving. We go looking for a turkey, on me of course because my brother spends his whole checks on hot wheels cars and parts for his gas powered remote control car and not on food or utilities. I spot a 15 pound turkey and pick it up. My brother remarks that we need a pan to cook it in. Mystery pipes up "Duh, nu-uh, we have one." I ask her again "are you SURE we have a tray at home?" She is annoyed, like usual, that I would dare to talk to her, which really annoyed me, because she would be nice only when she was asking for money or for me to, you know, purchase food: "I said we have one, Steven." note she always stressed the second syllable in my name, and did that little Napoleon Dynamite snort after every sentence.

We ask her 4 MORE TIMES, each time she gets more annoyed and snorts while she tells us that she does have one. You all know where this is going. We (and by "we" I mean I) buy the groceries and head home. My brother tells her to go get the pan. She comes out of the kitchen with a MUFFIN PAN. Not a damn Turkey pan, a pan you cook 6 muffins in. She puts it on the table, where my brother and I stand, in complete shock at the total stupidity.

"You're a retard" my brother whispered, loud enough for us to hear but he was still transfixed on the pan, staring at it as if it would change into a turkey pan if he just looked at it long enough.
Since the store was at that point closed (we were some of the last customers there) and therefore could not go get the pan, I mumbled under my breath about how dumb she was and went upstairs to my room to NOT eat turkey. Luckily some of the other patrons at this particular dinner (including my mom and Jeff) brought a pan with them, so we did get to eat. My mom told Mystery she was too dumb to cook and charged her with making Koolaid, which she also screwed up (forgot the sugar). All in all a good and normal Thanksgiving.