Elmo, I Think I'm Your Son

Good Evening

My name is @nonameslefttouse The Writer Himself. I've been keeping a secret, my entire life. I can no longer manage to live like this. The truth must be told, the lies, must stop. The agony... must end.

Elmo, I think I'm your son.

Now, Dad, I know what you're thinking...

"Hahahaha, not again!"

...and I understand, I really do. I'm sure you hear this several times in one month. I'm not like them though, Dad. I don't want your money, yachts, hot pig connections, none of it. I just want to be, your son.

I Never Got to Play Catch!

The Early Years

Growing up wasn't easy. All the other kids seemed to know.

"Elmo's kid! Elmo's kid!"

So many tragic days. They would push me around, Dad. I would get kicked and called names. They would hold me tight... and start tickling me. For some reason I'd laugh and laugh, they would tickle me some more. I hated it, Dad. I threw like a girl.

I hit puberty and started noticing some major changes. My voice, Dad, we hold the same notes. I noticed a massive bush of red growing around my penis. It eventually went away, my penis. That's how I know, Dad. I've looked at you. I checked your action figures, nothing! So I know I must be your son. This cannot be a coincidence. If it's not in the jeans, it's in the genes, Dad.

Getting Older

I was the first one to start shaving, Dad. All the other kids thought I was an undercover cop. Nobody wanted to hang out with me. We were also poor, Dad. The other teenagers were getting cars. Mom was still putting me in the wagon, and rolling me down the hill. She quit drinking last year.

I ended up quitting school. I took on a job at the petting zoo. I'd feed the llamas in the morning then head out to the ring. The owners said it was fine if the kids touched me, on the count of me not having a penis. They would tickle me, Dad. Down there sometimes!

All I could do, was laugh.

Everyone would leave. I would clean up the poop and end my sixteen hour shift. Never had a day off. I quit one day after I got sick of the llama's inappropriate sexual advances. The boss would not take my complaint seriously. The harassment didn't stop, he just kept humping me. I had had enough.

I've been unemployed ever since. Employers are unwillingly to recognize my work experience and I'm pretty sure the llama said it was me who was in the wrong.

I Was There That Night, Dad

I'll admit, I used to watch your show religiously. I have a shrine in the basement where I keep your action figures. I followed you on social media. I learned your habits and knew you'd be at the club that night.

I got dressed up, got on my ten speed, took the number three bus, then the number eight. I locked the bike up outside and was nearly allowed in without waiting in line. They said I looked like you, Dad. The other bouncer said you were already inside and they sent me to the back of the line. I had enough information, I knew the wait would be worth it.

I had never been inside a place like that, Dad. I didn't know what to expect. Three women came up to me, didn't say anything and grabbed my area of privacy. I was shocked and aroused as well as confused. I heard about another red machine getting in all kinds of trouble for even mentioning this sort of behavior. I had no idea it actually existed.

Someone brought me a beer and said, "Here you go, Jim."

I don't know Jim, but I do like his taste in beer. I never heard of the name. I did find out it was strong though. The lights were really starting to become bright, fancy looking, and I felt like dancing.

I walked out onto the dance floor, got grabbed and rejected a few more times. I wanted to say hello to a nice looking lady but I could not muster up the courage to grab her vagina. I turned around to go find another one of Jim's beer.

That's when I saw you, for the first time.

You were across the room, some big guys were guarding the entrance and you appeared to be eating powdered sugar donuts. Once I got closer, I saw a plate of cookies. You must have finished the donuts but I could still see some on your face. One of your friends tapped his colleague on the shoulder, got his attention, pointed at me, and they both laughed. I smiled and approached. I was ready, Dad. It was finally time.

I got not ten steps away from you. He bumped into me and nearly knocked me down. I saw him lunge at you. I saw you get shanked! That monster rolled you for everything you had. All I really remember was the big blue fur coat. Your boys bust off a couple rounds, the whole place dropped, the music made that record scratch sound. Silence, then screams.

I got out as fast as I could. I tried to chase him, Dad. He was just too fast.

They wouldn't let me anywhere near your hospital bed. I see you've since stopped telling the world where you'll be next. I'd be scared too, Dad, it's okay.

I gave up. I started drinking that same brand of beer nearly every day. For some strange reason I never got the same kick. I was up to twelve for lunch when I finally decided to call it quits. I'm better now. I found a way to start blogging. Now I know for certain you'll finally hear my message.

Here is a picture of me, your son.

Please Dad. I just want to play catch.

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P.S. Before I forget, I need to show you something, Dad. I made this for you. I hope you're strong enough to handle it. What am I saying... I know you'll be okay.

This is, "The Club, That Night."

I love you, Dad.

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