Little People

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“Jim.”

Jim continued staring at the stack of tests on his desk, marking wrong answers in red pen; he didn’t believe in computer grading.

“Not now honey, I’m trying to grade these tests. Did you know that approximately forty percent of my class doesn’t think Hydrogen is an element?”

“Our bank account’s been hacked.”

Jim swiveled around in his chair, expecting to be handed a bank statement. He was instead handed Karen’s cell phone.

“Yes, hello? Yes, this is Mr. Carson. ...No, I don’t recall paying for that service. No, I didn’t put my credit card information into that website. Yes, I do- Yeah, I have a teenage boy. Why do you- Oh. Oh, I understand. Okay, one second.”

He handed the phone to Karen, covering up the transmitter.

“Don’s been going on porn websites,” he whispered, gritting his teeth.

He went upstairs to Don’s room and knocked on the door.

There was no answer.

He knocked again.

“Don! I have to talk to you!”

“What the fuck do you want?”

Jim walked into this son’s room, looking at all the posters of rappers with gold teeth and names that weren’t grammatically correct.

“Don, I have to talk to you about something. It’s important.”

“Dad, I’m trying to fucking sleep-”

“Don, did you put my credit card information on a website for midget porn?”

He hoped that was the last time he would ever have to ask that question.

Donny looked up at him with embarrassment on his face, and turned over on his side so he couldn’t see his father.

“It’s the only thing that gets me off,” he muttered.

“The only thing?”

“Yeah.”

“You swear? You’re not just fucking with me right now?”

“Do you think that if I was just messing with you I’d be this embarrassed?” He said, quietly.

“Good point. Alright, well... Your mom said there weren’t any other charges, so I’ll keep paying for it. I understand, son. Just... Don’t tell your mom. I’ll tell her it was for me.”

Donny turned around and, for the first time in nearly three months, hugged his father.

“I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, son. Almost as much as you love midgets.”

“They prefer the term ‘little people.’”

“Sorry. I love you as much as you love little people.

“Better. But I still love you more.”

“You would pay money to get off to me?”

“Get out of my room, please.”

“Why, going to jerk it to some little people?”

“Please leave.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

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