Death is that Big-Dicked Dog (Dementia, 2063)

You asked how it happened, and I'm going to tell you how it happened. I don't mind, I never get tired of it.

Remember when you were a kid, and there was that German Shepard, Rudy, who lived a few doors down? You used to walk past that dog every morning before school. And every afternoon, after school. It had that fierce bark, more like a roar than a bark.

Rudy belonged to the Casablancas. You were friends with the younger two Casablanca kids, Ronald and Rhonda. Ronald grew up and became the basketball hero in highschool? Oh, but this was way before highschool, this part I'm talking about. I'm going to make you remember.

"I dare you to yank it!"

Remember?

Never mind, that's getting ahead of things.

I'm going to jog your memory about the Casablancas, first. Remember them? Go God or Go Home signs lining the fence made of driftwood. Robert and Rhonda. Rhonda was the fast runner, faster than you. And a better swimmer than you. She was pretty, too, with those feline eyes, and she stayed pretty as she aged, didn't she? Married a surgeon. I hope she ended up waxing that upper lip.

The Casablancas. Who could forget that last name?! And that dog.

Ronald was the boy. He was the same age as you but got held back a grade because he was deaf in one ear. He was the basketball hero? Scouted by some guys in the states, some sports-scouting guys. They came all the way up here to see him play. Jesus, but by that time Rudy was long dead. They buried him in their front yard because the back yard was full of pigs. The pigs would've sniffed out the corpse and tried to eat it.

I love pie so much, don't you?

I'm not trying to embarrass you by bringing this up, but it relates to the dog thing. You used to play with Ronald down in the bushes by the park down there. You don't remember? I guess you were young, and I don't know how else to say it but to just say it: you stuffed leaves in each other's bums. Nobody could figure out why. One of the neighbourhood moms caught you doing it while she was pushing her toddler in the park swing. She heard the rustle in the bushes, poked her head into the brush and you had your tush up in the air while Ronald was putting wet leaves right in your crack!!! You ran home crying. Well, you were only five! We thought it was hilarious, both of you only five years old! It was cute! You said you were making "bum pies", isn't that cute?

It's adorable! I love pie!

But listen. This is serious.

Everybody that lived on that road grew up weird or died before they were twenty.

Weird, weird, weird. It was a curse.




What if I say lipstick, does that ring a bell, honey?

You came home that night, it was Halloween. And you were laughing because you saw that dog's weiner. You got in trouble at the kitchen table for talking about it: But it looks like a lipstick! I remember your giggle. We all giggled too, but we were trying not to.

You were seven years old, I think? Or maybe nine. Yup, it was definitely nine. I think it was nine, but it was so long ago. Nine years old.

You were going out trick-or-treating with your friends, alone, for the first time. Dressed as Madonna. So proud of yourself. I remember watching mom getting you ready, back-combing your hair and filling your arms up with her silver bangles and your eyes up with thick purple shadow, teaching you to kiss-off your lipstick on a square of toilet paper.

Anyway, you went with Rhonda and Ronald and Nick and Jordie. You were allowed to go the whole way around the neighbourhood without supervision, then you were allowed to go to the bonfire at the Casablancas until 8:30. I remember you telling me weeks later that there was a teenage boy there with a guitar, drinking beer. He was playing songs, but then he started swearing in his songs and got asked to leave, then that redneck dad threw the boy's guitar right in the fire.

Rudy was on his chain, tied to the maple tree, yards and yards from the fire. The Casablancas knew he was a biter and they wanted all the kids safe. You started playing flashlight tag - remember flashlight tag?- with the kids, and Jordie was it. He had the flashlight, and he pointed it at Rudy about half-way through the game and shreiked, "The lipstick's out again!" And everybody laughed and laughed!!!

That's what I heard.

And then Jordie, or maybe it was Nick - it doesn't matter - said "I dare you to yank it!"

You were giggling and giggling. You said, "How much d'you wanna bet?!"

It was for five bucks and Nick's autographed Corey Hart poster.

Remember making the bet? It was you who told me about the bet.

Is this ringing a bell? You asked me how it happened- does any of this sound familiar? He ripped off your lips.

Rudy. That dog.

Ripped your lips right off when you went to yank his lipstick. Made a mighty roar and snarled at your face and took those lips fresh off. And the doctor had to make you new lips from the fat in your buttocks. And the skin was from, ummmm, your thigh I think?

You ask me this every day, I don't mind explaining.

That's why your lips look funny. That's how this happened.



It was a long time ago, dear.


Eat your pinneaple cup.



Don't worry about a thing.