Grundish & Askew Read Free

me up the ass; I worshiped Satan; I cursed God; I worked in a grocery store and used to piss in the pickle barrel; I used to beat off constantly until I came blood in the sink; I tried to kill myself; I cut myself; me and my friends used to jack my dog off and we were so fucked up in our heads that we thought it was funny; I hated my parents; I hated the world; I hated myself. Somehow they all thought that Grundish had done the same things. It wasn’t so.
    These are some of the most fucked up people I have ever seen
, thought Grundish. Sure, Squid claimed that he fucked a horse, but, Grundish never believed him. Each and every one of the deviants in the rehab was credible, though.
This isn’t a drug rehab
, he thought,
this is a fucking psyche ward
. It was on that first day that Grundish realized he would never make it through the program.
    Two weeks into the stay at Straight, Inc., a new patient was brought before the group. Everybody but Grundish knew him. Everyone was pissed off. They all screamed at him as he stood still, smiling a beautiful happy smile, like he was in a better place. A place where people weren’t inches in front of his face with their sour breath, calling him names. The kid’s name was Buddy and he ran away from the program. Buddy was a big kid, too. The staff decided that Grundish wasn’t going to be a problem and sent Buddy home that night to the Flannigan house.
    On the way home, Buddy and Grundish sat in the back of Flannigan’s car. “Hey, man, what’s your story?” Buddy asked Grundish and smiled that big goofy smile of his.
    “Hey, stop talking back there!” Flannigan ordered. “You know the rules, Buddy. You guys are not supposed to be talking to each other.”
    “Fuck you, Flannigan. What’re you gonna do about it?” Buddy challenged.
    “I’m gonna turn around, take you back to the building, and have you put in a time out room for a week,” said Flannigan.
    “Good,” laughed Buddy, “that way I won’t have to see your stupid snaggle-tooth face.” Buddy turned to Grundish, “Seriously, what’s your story? You don’t look like a queer, or a fucked up junkie like most of the losers in group.”
    Grundish just shrugged. It was a talent he had, shrugging and not answering. He didn’t much see the point in getting involved with Buddy’s rebellion. He immediately liked Buddy but didn’t want any trouble.
Just do your time and get out
, he thought.
    “You know you’re not getting out of here unless you tell them what they want to hear,” Buddy said.
    “Shut up, Buddy!” Flannigan yelled. “You’re in enough trouble already. Don’t make it worse.”
    “I’ve been in here for two years now, and I don’t see myself being done with it until I’m eighteen and can sign myself out. You won’t get out of here unless you play the game. Oh,” Buddy mocked, “I was so fucked up and hated myself so much that I sucked a badger’s cock. Please help me because I can’t help myself. I’m powerless over drugs and need a higher power to help me. Wahhhh. I hate myself. Wahhhh, wahhhh, wahhh, fucking WAHHHH!”
    “You know what we should do?” Buddy continued, nudging Grundish with his elbow. “We should toss fat boy Flannigan out of this old station wagon and get the fuck out of here. Just go out on the road for a while. You’re not gonna get out of this program otherwise. They don’t let you out. They keep you here until your parents’ insurance payments dry up or you become an adult and sign yourself out.”
    A nervous laugh escaped Flannigan. “Stop fucking around Buddy. If you want to sink down to rock bottom... well, fine...but don’t drag this guy down with you.”
    “Do yourself a favor,” Buddy said to Grundish, ignoring Flannigan. “Get the fuck out of here. It’ll do nothing but mess your head, and real bad, too. Let’s overtake this fat piece of shit in the front seat and split.”
    Again it was clear to Grundish. He wasn’t going to make it through