Arthur's mother was a wild but gentle woman named Brenda. He called her Mama. She lifted weights and ran on a treadmill when she had the time, but she was still a gently plump woman. She had glossy French manicures, cute summer dresses, curly blonde hair, and the ability to weld. Her husband, Arthur's father, was Dustin, also known as Daddy. He was very practical, steel arms and a slight beer belly. His hair and goatee were black with only a hint of gray despite his age. The hair was kept short, but Arthur could still remember when he used to have hair down half of his back.
Dustin and Brenda Glass lived in an old but well kept mobile home out in a very rural neighborhood. A small building was perhaps a foot or so away from one end of the house. It used to be a beauty salon that Brenda had independently worked in, but after she got bored of her business Dustin converted it to a garage and storage shed. It was a fine place to keep his Harley-Davidson motorcycle. He had to make a wooden ramp to wheel the bad boy out and in but that was no problem.
In the front yard there was a hand-made wooden shelter for the two main vehicles. Dustin's currently favored old pickup truck and Brenda's bright red car. Two other trucks were in the backyard, close to where the pet dog was kept in his comfortable cage. He was some kind of weird mutt but everyone was certain there was some German Shepherd in him.
First, much to Arthur's confusion, they got in the limousine while some housekeepers piled the luggage in. "Why are we taking the limo?!" he'd asked. "You don't want my parents to know you're rich, right?"
"I want to make sure we're a good distance from the house before we change cars," Vince said as if that made complete sense. "I've asked someone to drive the truck for us."
"That's just stupid. Why would you do that?"
Vince shrugged. "We always leave the house in a limousine. It's good luck."
"Good luck?!" Arthur folded his arms and sighed. "God damn it. It's like when my mom says you're not supposed to wash clothes on New Year's."
Vince turned on the stereo to play some classical music at a low volume. "I think one of the reasons I'm so rich is because I obsess over the smaller details."
"You're just proof that even stupid people can be successful."
Vince smiled, put he pointed at Arthur with pistol shaped hands and said, "Ouch, that's verbal abuse." He had a ring on his left hand. It matched the one Arthur wore. Turns out he'd gotten two engagement rings. "You need to be nicer to your fiancΓ©."
"Okay. I'm sorry. That was mean." Arthur leaned in close and put his hand on Vince's arm. "If you want to do your own little rituals, that's okay. You're the breadwinner. You're the boss." He decided he wasn't even going to bitch about the thick curtains on the windows.
"That's better." Vince hugged him with one arm and put some kisses in his hair.
Some time later, the limousine stopped, and Vince opened the door. When Arthur was outside, he saw that they were on a road with thick forests on each side. Vince's black truck was waiting on them. They put all their luggage in the back seat and went off for the true journey to Arthur's parents' house.
At the old mobile home, Arthur knocked on the door.
And his cute little Mama nearly knocked him into Vince. That's how much force was behind her hug. "Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!! I'm so glad to see youuuuuuuuuuuu!!" Then kisses. Gunshot kisses. All. Over. Arthur's face. Vince chuckled behind him, but he didn't say anything. When Mama finally gave Arthur room to breathe, her red lipstick a smudged mess, she grinned and called out for Daddy. "Dustin!! He's here!!" But then, horror of all horrors, her happiness shrunk away as she looked at his face, her fingers on his cheeks. "What happened to your nose?! Don't tell me that mean-ass hit you!"
"It's a long story," Arthur said.
Daddy's footsteps thudded in the building as he too came into view. He was wearing his reading glasses. "You messed his face up, Mama." He sometimes called his wife Mama but with a different inflection and tone than Arthur usually did. He waved at the men and said, "Come on in. We got plenty of food."
Vince began the process of getting their luggage in the house with Daddy's help. In the living area, Arthur wiped his face clean while Mama did much the same, but she reapplied her lipstick. When everything was settled, Vince sat down on a sofa while Daddy took one of the rocking armchairs. Mama eventually took her own armchair while Arthur quietly took a seat beside Vince.
And it began.
"What in the world happened to you?!" Mama, pouting a little.
"You should've come home." Daddy, a trembling, reddening face that looked like it was close to erupting.
"When you said you'd left him, we thought you'd just come home." Mama, putting her heavily ringed fingers together.
One of Arthur's hands rose a bit as he tried to give his excuse. "I ... I'm really sorry. I was scared. I didn't want you guys to become a target."
Daddy sighed, but his face looked maybe a bit less red. "Was this guy on any drugs?"
"I don't know exactly what he was always taking," Arthur admitted, "but I'm pretty sure it was mostly illegal." He put his elbows on his thighs and leaned in. "I think it's okay now. He's in jail."
Vince chose that moment to put his words in. One of his arms was on the back of the couch, right behind Arthur. "Well, he was probably sent to a hospital first, then jail."
"Oh yeah?" Arthur just then remembered something like that. He looked up at Vince's grim profile. "Didn't you shoot him or something?"
Both of Arthur's parents perked up at that. They looked like pets who were paying close attention to a can of food being opened.
Vince turned to Arthur and nodded. "I put a bullet in both legs, then I put my foot so far up his ass I don't think he'll be able to use the bathroom anymore."
Daddy's loud voice rang out and he clapped his hands. "Hell yeah!!"
Blank and almost uncaring, Arthur said, "I don't really remember what happened, not much anyway. Jake beat me really bad. I actually have some memory loss."