Revolt at the Beach: More Twisp Family Chronicles by C.D. Payne

Author:C.D. Payne
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Aivia Press
Published: 2015-05-26T22:00:00+00:00

JULY

WEDNESDAY, July 1 – Lots of news: The Scott-Azura debacle is all over the media. A Republican Senator from Oklahoma singled them out on Fox News as what is wrong with America. Trent Preston issued a statement saying they were “two nice young people” who “made a mistake.” Dad had been fielding calls from reporters, but had to stop since they all wanted to ask about his “career setbacks” and “roach-filled” apartment. Looks like I made the “strictly private” video that will never die. Shouldn’t I be getting royalties from all those views it’s racking up? Hostile Ada dropped by to say she’s attributing her son’s marital disaster to his father setting a “consistently bad example.” Dad replied that the last time he checked “divorce was a two-way street.” I called Azura twice, but I guess she’s not answering her phone.

Cal is now set as Sheeni, and Tiara has been retained as young Lefty’s girlfriend Millie Filbert. Since Dad had to cut out the parts about his sister, he’s been able to beef up the Lefty-Millie romance, which apparently was semi-sizzling despite Lefty’s penile handicap (erect yes, straight no).

The house-sellers were big Nick Twisp fans, so they accepted Brenda’s offer even though another offer topped it. Dad had to put it in writing on the sales agreement that they will be invited to the film premiere. Escrow has been accelerated wildly so Mary’s carpenters can go to work chopping out the wall. Meanwhile, Brenda is scouring Craigslist and eBay for suitable Chevys and another Lincoln convertible. Dad wants her to find an especially cherry example of the latter, which he intends to keep. He’s already reserved the license plate TWISPAN for it. I asked him if I’ll get to drive the flashy convertible when I get my license. He said only if he developed “severe early-onset Alzheimer’s.” I’m keeping my fingers crossed that he goes downhill fast.

Since a rapprochement has been reached with the neighbors, Cal came over after lunch to hang by our pool. She was searing the eyes (and my nervous system) in a torrid red bikini. Severely overstimulated, I had to sit hunched over most of the time. She swam about 57 laps in the pool, then got out and toweled off. She checked out my largely unclad body.

“You look like you were just liberated from a camp by General Patton’s army,” she commented.

“It’s that Twisp DNA, Cal. We don’t get tall and we don’t bulk up.”

“What do you do with all the calories you consume?”

“It all goes into mental development.”

“Achieving a mental age of what now–12? Oh, did I tell you? I got an email from Denny Turnbull, my handsome co-star. He says he’s extremely anxious to meet me.”

“That guy is only interested in one thing.”

“And I suppose you’re not? Why are you all scrunched up in that unnatural posture? Come here and give me a kiss.”

“Uh, I’d rather not at the moment, if you don’t mind.”

I was rescued by Harvey, who came sauntering out in his backyard.

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