The Surprise
Frenchie rounded the corner of 5th and Main. The drab red brick buildings were rows upon rows of dark and glistening monoliths of hard city life. To Frenchie’s left, down an alley way, two whores fought with their pimp.
It was disgusting. Frenchie had a hard time resisting the pull from deep in his guts to puke up his pushpop and steak fries. A homeless man bumped into him, and Frenchie barfed a little into his mouth.
With a sense of urgency, he ran down the next dank alleyway to empty the contents of his mouth. Half walking, half hobbling, the cloaked figure of Frenchie shambled down past overturned trash cans and scurrying rats.
On the doorstep of some long-abandoned back-alley gambling joint there slept a drunk old man covered in old coats and a garbage bag.
For a second or a few minutes, he didn’t know for sure, Frenchie stared at the human waste before him, mouth agape. Frenchie searched his trench coat, then his daisy dukes, revealing a very illegal switchblade.
The man coughed, and in a panic the blade disappeared in the long folds of Frenchie’s leather coat. The old man’s eyes opened, and he spoke, ‘Got any change, mister?’
Frenchie crouched down by the man, and with a strained smile said, “No.” The old man looked sad, until Frenchie stabbed him brutally in the throat.
The old man gurgled blood up violently, spewing the liquor tainted red substance all over his red, knee-high cotton socks and boots. “Godamnit!” Frenchie muttered to himself.
Discretely Frenchie made his way back to his ghetto apartment to clean up and do his evening pilates. With a sigh of relief he reached his door, room 69. Home free, he thought to himself, nobody saw him.
Frenchie opened the door, and to his shock his parents and all of his Friends were waiting there in cone-shaped party hats, surrounding a cake on his dinner table.
“Surprise!” Everyone yelled. Frenchie was shocked, and angry, “What the fuck are you all doing here?! FUCK!”
Today wasn’t even Frenchie’s birthday. Turns out Frenchie’s friends and family loved him so much they gave him a surprise party just for the hell of it.
Frenchie tried to choke Matt to death, but the party crowd managed to pull them apart. Wounded and shamed, Frenchie took a shower with his dad and eventually enjoyed the party.
The next day, no one at the party would put two and two together and realize the random hobo stabbing was related to the blood-stained Frenchie.
All in all, it was a terrible day and Frenchie didn’t even get to play any videogames, because Tony M. fell on his rock band instruments, all at once. Also Tony L. spilled beer on his PS3. Frenchie didn’t sleep at all that night.
