How I met your father

Episode 1 : the barbecue

That very day our joyful little family drove for hours for the traditional barbecue at aunt Maiko's house. Haki got out of the car, nauseous and dizzy, hoping his mother would drive for the way back home. Gaara was braking so harshly and suddenly and then accelerating, then braking again. This kind of « nervous » driving was making the poor kid sick, but with a lot of practice he managed to build himself a resistance to his step father's driving.

He wasn't even completely out of the car when his aunts pug came to jump on him, making the emo collapse under the eyes of his parents that seemed more concerned about the new gate Maiko painted in magenta. Pissed, Haki didn't wait for them to stop their observations and got in the house. Maiko didn't come to welcome them in the yard, she was probably in the living room, drunk.

« Hello Auntie ! he yelled, You here ? »

No answer. He entered the living room where a man was climbing, probably to get something in the shelf, looking at him with a smile. But this young green haired mile was standing still, without moving the slightest or saying anything, just smiling at him. Haki suddenly remembered about Uncle Mo.

Indeed, Maiko never got over the tragical death of her handsome husband. We all have a creepy aunt or uncle who stuff their dog or their cat ? Well Maiko contacted Chuck Testa, the master of the discipline in order to keep her husband beautiful forever with her.

Haki raised his shoulders and continued his exploring of Aunt Maiko's house. Where could she be ? With that much alcohol in the blood she cannot go far anyways without getting arrested he thought. As he was wandering in the house, with the pug after him, the annoying voice of his mother called.

« Haki my sweetie baby bunny boo ! Where are you ??? Come mama wants to take a photo of you with uncle Mo ! »

Haki took a look at the stool in the kitchen, trying to evaluate if it would be high enough to commit suicide jumping from it. But another cry of Yukiko convinced him to get back to her before his hears start bleeding.

« Mom' I don't want to take a photo with Uncle Mo' he's so cringe ! »

« Is that my husband you are calling « cringe » ? » groaned a voice coming from nowhere.

They all turned to see a Maiko still in pyjamas, only half aw ake, a bottle of Jack in hands.

« Sup ? » She said

« Maiko, darling, don't drink that goat pee, we brought some good wine of Bourgogne from Carrefour Market ! »

Gaara raised the cheap bottle of wine bought at the local super market, but that had a tag « Wine of Bourgogne » so they assumed it was a fancy one despite the price of 3 euros the bottle. Maiko said nothing and just took the bottle off his hand.

« You can start preparing the barbecue Gaara, she said, the chipolatas and merguez are in the kitchen. Come Yuki, that's a task for your man, I know he likes putting people in ovens and shit. Whatever ! Lets just take some plastic plates and forks and seat around the picnic table and talk. »

And that's what they did. Haki had the obligation to seat at the table, without being on his phone to « participate » to the conversation before the barbecue can finally start at 3 pm.

The first subject they threw on the table was Gaara's favorite one : immigration. He blamed one our two communities for scratching his car's door.

« I swear it would have NEVER happened during the Reich. »

He suddenly noticed Haki had put his plate away with a disgusted face.

« Eat your German sausage son. » he said « That's good for your purity of blood. »

« Pfff ! Specist ! I already told you, murderer ! I'm not eating animals ! #againstanimalopression. »

« You are not eating animals but you use wale fat for your stupid ass gothic makeup, so shut the fuck up and eat your fucking German sausage. » his step father coldly replied

« Maybe he's just not gay you know ? Started Maiko, You can't force him to eat dicks ! »

Haki dropped his fork, his empty eyes sending distress signal to his mother who was ... totally not looking, focused on taking snaps for her « girls ». He can never count on her anyways. His life is just a long, long and lonely road and as he was torned away by this ocean of sorrow he had a thought for Mo, who is lucky enough no to have to hear any of this bullshit ever again.

« So, Gaara, how is your project of invading the North going ? »

« Well, as you may no I still need patrons to finance my campaign of Mayor. »

« I see. So this whole visit was nothing but an excuse to beg for some money ? »

Indeed aunt Maiko had made herself quite a rich bitch from foggy business. Hard to know where all this money came from but it was easy to tell from her big house and three Porches that she didn't have too much issues of money.

« Ah no ! Yukiko yelled, WE ARE NOT TALKING OF MONEY during the family barbecue. »

« Sure, we'd rather talk genocide, its so much more family friendly, groaned Haki, sarcastically. »

« Haki, stop contesting your mother, intervened Gaara. Now seat straight and eat your fucking German sausage. »

« Fuck you, you porc murder ! I'm going back home, loosers. »

« And may I know by what miracle ? Can you teleport ? Cause I'm not driving you home before the digestion nap and the family photo with Uncle and Auntie, objected his mother. »

« I got feet mom. I'll go and find a bus, or do stop or whatever. If I get kidnapped by some strange pedophile I'll tell the police it was your fault.»

« Okay lol. See you this evening honey. Don't forget to feed the pigeon when you're back home. »

She couldn't be less councious. Haki, weary, just got up and left to the closest road where he found the bus stop. The bus took 5 hours to bring him home. It had to stop to every single shitty village of 10 non playable characters from Polochon-sur-Bidet to Trifouilly-les-Oies.

When he got home, the parents were still not there, probably still getting drunk with Ant Maiko and his stuffed husband. Haki threw his converses across the living room and got upstairs to lock himself in the dark, waiting for another dreary day to come and replace the previous one.