On the road and headed back home, Junior was driving a beat-up nineties blue Yugo while Jack sat in the passenger seat, both in apathy over losing their jobs. They didn’t notice going by bright neon flag banners surrounding the local waterpark announcing the summer season’s grand opening and a huge white banner that had “JOB FAIR” in bold red letters.
“Man, I can’t believe we got shit-canned from the shit factory,” said Jack.
“Sorry, dude,” said Junior.
“I’m not. We’ve been turd trainees for two years, and I want a new job.”
“Where, in the oblivious and overlooked Omaha, Nebraska? There’s nothing here, just Raison Bran, TV dinners, and the Missouri River.”
Jack noticed a highway sign highlighting the Henry Doorly Zoo in the distance, “Let’s get jobs at the zoo!”
“You want to shovel more shit, Jack? Because that’s all they do,” said Junior.
“No shit?” asked Jack.
“That’s more shit, all kinds of animal shit,” said Junior.
“My parents did not move us from Florida just so I could shovel shit in Omaha,” replied Jack as he watched the latest Tik Tok trending videos on his cell phone.
“I mean, look at these guys. They’re making bank just for being on social media. This chick got a million followers. Check this out: it’s only a minute, and they got 900K views. That’s it! This is what we should be doing!”
Junior looked at Jack’s cell phone and got distracted by a hot bikini babe dancing to a popular rap song, he didn’t see that he had swerved in the opposite lane until he heard a loud semi-truck blaring its horn. Junior had to shift to get back in his lane but didn’t see another car speeding behind him. He quickly swerved off the highway into a field, taking out the barb-wired fence, and slammed on his brakes right before hitting a flock of fluffy white sheep. The alpha sheep puffed up his chest, walked up to the Yugo, lifted his leg, and peed on the front bumper.
Nestled on the edge of Omaha was a little rustic trailer park trashed by rusting heaps of various clutter and a broken-down playground typical of neighborhoods gone to the dogs. In this very trailer park, Junior and Jack lived with Ken and his stay-at-home midwestern blond belle of a wife named Emma. She could knock out any drunk and belligerent strip club patron who dared get close to one of her locally famous pole dances as tiny as she was. Ken was lucky enough to dodge every kick successfully. Then he engaged Emma in a drinking contest that allowed her to tie him down during a drunken bet. Neither Ken nor Emma remembers exactly how she got pregnant a few years ago. But as soon as the test results were positive, Ken promised to care for Emma. So, Emma retired her tiny string bikinis and eight-inch stilettos to be a marginalized stay-at-home trailer park momma addicted to her newfound social media life as a self-proclaimed producer and director, creating “The Luna Show” for Tik Tok. Her two-year-old little girl, Luna, was the show’s star, turning the living room into a one-room studio set.
Emma was right in the middle of recording a show when she heard Junior’s Yugo pulling into the driveway. She raced outside to meet them, “Sorry boys, the studio light is on, so you boys can’t come inside. Besides, aren’t you boys home a little early?”
“We got fired,” said Junior.
“Hold on for a minute….” Emma disappeared and then came back out with three cans of beer. She ushered the two to sit on the front steps and handed each boy a can.
“You need to ask Ken for your jobs back,” said Emma.
“Not his time,” said Junior.
“We sorta blew up a truck,” said Jack.
“Well, shit. What did you do that for?
“It was an accident,” said Jack.
“It’s not like stripping in some club where you can just go and work the men like an ATM machine whenever you want,” said Junior.
“Now wait a minute, we let you boys move in here so you could be more independent and responsible and not have to live at your parent’s house down yonder on the other side of this here park, remember? Ken can only carry you kids for so long. You need to start adulting,” said Emma.
“It sucks getting fired,” said Jack.
“Ken said you know some people here in town, Emma. Can’t you hook us up?” asked Junior.
“Eh, you boys don’t want to go down that dirty underground route. When Ken got me pregnant, it was like God giving me a hand job, finger-banging it into my beaver that I needed to be more responsible with a baby and stop being so careless with my life. Seriously, do you boys know how easy it is to search for a job nowadays? Just go online and look for one. I just saw something on Tik Tok about Watermania.”
Unbeknownst to Emma, Luna pooped in her pull-on diapers and started whimpering for her momma. She did not like wearing wet and poopy bottoms. So, she took her bottoms off and threw them at the window, hoping to get her mom’s attention.
Emma looked at the poop-splattered window and realized she had a production emergency. She shotgunned her beer as if dying of thirst and rushed inside to record the next best viral sensation, or so she hoped.
“Hot babes in bikinis, c’mon bro,” said Jack.
“I don’t know,” said Junior.
“I swear Emma is the champ of shotgunning beers; she always beats Ken. You ready?” Jack signaled to Junior to get his beer ready; they gave a toast and then chugged and chugged like there was no tomorrow, followed by a massive belching contest.
A strange, super loud massive belch shook the boys out of their joy when they saw it come from the park’s property manager, Larry. He was pleased with his incredible belching power and handed Junior a “rent due” notice.
“Or maybe we could work at the post office?” asked Junior.
Larry listened briefly to the boy’s conversation, then said, “You want to know what I wanted to be when I was your age? I wanted to own a little donut franchise right here in Omaha and be my own boss. Bake billions of donuts and have that great slogan, to be the savior of millions of sugary and hungry hearts everywhere. Then get married and have a cute little family rubbing my feet when I get home from baking all day. It turns out you need collateral for a ginormous loan to cover the franchise expenses. Then I would be breaking my back for sixteen hours a day mixing icing toppings, standing in front of hot stoves shoveling shit in and out and in and out of those hot stoves. Then come home to a nagging nut who wants to spend all your money shopping online and filling up a shitty trailer with senseless garbage teetering on the edge of hoarding. The point is, don’t get so careless with your imagination that you forget to see reality. Anyway, I hear Watermania is having a job fair tomorrow.”
“Dude, we gotta check it out,” pleaded Jack.
“You’re giving us thirty days to move out, Larry? Come on, you went to high school with my brother,” pleaded Junior feeling defeated after glancing over the notice.
“Did you skip a few lines there, little Ford Junior?” asked Larry.
Jack snatched the notice and read it carefully, “It says that if we don’t pay rent in thirty days, then we have to move out.”
“Well, I guess we all know who the smart one is,” said Larry sarcastically.
“We’ll get you your money,” said Jack.
“This better not turn into some ‘New Jack Hustle’ because if you break the law, everyone is out.”
“What?!” Junior was getting offended.
“It’s a movie, kid, relax. But seriously, no robbing banks; we’re too small of a town.”
“Then I guess we’re going to Watermania,” concluded Jack.