You Can't Push it Underground

The Bet

Now it's not like Frank is someone who seeks out conflict. He'd say that he's a pretty down to earth, friendly, loving guy, but there are some people who are just begging to be argued with.

That big brawny guy in line at the gas station tapping his foot when you take too long paying for your diet coke, he is just asking to be yelled at. The little six year old boy whose game of basketball you accidentally interrupted and started staring up to you with those eyes, he's just asking to be scolded. The kid in your third period class who just joined the debate team the day prior, they're just asking to have a rowdy discussion with you.

The one who's really aggravating Frank though is that new bitch of a neighbor. Well it's both of them to be exact, but it's the woman that really gets on Frank's nerves. A close-minded Mormon couple with twelve framed pictures of Jesus in their entry way. They have seven bumper stickers that all spew religious garbage. One of them is an anti-abortion thing, another says that Satan will gladly take God's rejects, another trying to debunk evolution, and a few more that are a little less polite than that.

Honestly, Frank believes in believing whatever the hell you want. He could not care less what you think, what you believe, or who you look up to, he just doesn't want it to affect him. They're your beliefs not his, and he doesn't want to hear about it. Go suck up to your god, Frank's going to go suck a dick.

The thing is that he's never felt like he needed saving. He never felt like virginity was anything special that had to be saved, and he's never seen the sense of depraving yourself of basic human decency just so that you can get the approval of someone who's never proved themselves to you. He just wants to have sex with random strangers in the comfort of his own home without being lectured about the sanctity of it all. It doesn't seem fair to him, he didn't ask to have nosy neighbors!

The fact is that religion is not something that can be pushed down the throats of people. If you decline the embrace of Jesus once from your pushy neighbor, then they should accept that as your answer. What they should not do is stuff pamphlets under your door at all hours of the day, clutter your mailbox with God preaching stickers, and knock on your door at inconvenient intervals à la Kevin Price.

Mormons are the nice ones who hate you and think you're going to hell for all eternity where you will have stalagmites shoved up your ass for sinning, but never say it to your face. That's what Frank's neighbors are emanating every time he catches them looking at him evilly from their heavily draped parlor. It's a 'parlor' because they're arrogant pricks who think the term 'parlor' sounds posher then the proper term of living room. It's a fucking living room, it's not the Buckingham palace.

No matter how sugarcoated they like to make their words sound, Frank is not an idiot. They regard him as the utmost filth of humanity. The Sinclair's want Frank to be an entirely different person than he is. Specifically they want him to be straight, clean, a virgin, unpierced, and without tattoos. Looks like they're not going to get their way though. He isn't going to change for anyone, most of all not those pricks.

"You could try putting a fence up, you know," Brendon says.

"No it's against the rules to put one up. I'd have to pay a fine or some shit, and it wouldn't stop them. They'd attach signs to it and walk through the gate. I just have to put up with it."

"What about not answering the door?" he asks.

Frank groans, "They never accept me ignoring the ringing doorbell though! If they even think I'm home they'll ring that bitch for twenty minutes. They wake up at eight in the morning as well, and don't understand that some people like sleeping in. Some people are fucking nocturnal, and don't want to answer the door at ungodly hours!"