Freedom Lane – Football Ad

Paulie walked into the living room of his sister Helen and her life partner Rose’s home of Freedom Lane with a large tray of chicken wings that he made at his pizzeria, Paulie’s. “Hey!” he shouted. “Did I miss kick off?”

“Game just started,” Da’Quarius said. “I ever tell you my daddy plays for the Jets?”

“I ain’t fallin’ for that one again, kid,” Paulie said. “I know you don’t know who your father is.”

“Paulie!” Rose said. “Don’t say things like that!”

“Yeah,” Da’Quarius said. “There’s a chance my dad play for the Knicks!”

“Shutup!” Helen shouted from her recliner. “You’re making me miss the cheerleaders!”

“That’s an insurance commercial,” Paulie said. “You’re watching talking babies.”

“Dammit,” Helen said. “Get me my spectacles, Da’Quarius.”

“I got yo spectacles right here!” Da’Quarius said, grabbing his crotch.

“Da’Quarius!” Rose said, her hands darting to her mouth. “Don’t you do that to Helen!”

“And go get me a beer!” Helen said.

“You’re not supposed to have beer!” Rose said. “Your doctor said no beer.”

“That doctor doesn’t know anything,” Helen said. “That squinty-eyed gook can’t even see what he’s talking about.”

“That don’t make sense,” Da’Quarius said.

“Go get me a beer and it will make sense!” Helen shouted. “I’m gonna die anyway. Might as well embalm myself and watch some football.”

Da’Quarius looked at Rose. She gave him a short nod that told Da’Quarius to get her a beer. “Aight, biddy,” he said. “One beer coming up.”

“Get me one too,” Paulie said.

“What the heck,” Rose said. “I’ll have one too.”

“Slavery is over!” Da’Quarius shouted, walking to the kitchen. “I’ll go get you all some beer while you watch my people slam into each other. I cain’t even have a damn beer.”

“Get yourself one!” Helen shouted.

“DON’T!” Rose shouted. “Helen, don’t give him beer.”

“Football’s on!” Helen said. “The kid can have one beer.”

“No he can’t!” Rose said. “He’s only thirteen!”

“Shaddup,” Paulie said, uncovering the wings. “The games on, and I got fifty bucks on it.”

Da’Quarius walked back in the room and handed out the beers. “Don’t get too comfortable with dat fifty,” he said. “It’ll be in my pocket soon enough.”

“You’re not betting with Da’Quarius, are you Paulie?” Rose asked.

“Settle down, you biddy,” Helen said. “Football!”

Da’Quarius sat on the couch next to Paulie with Helen in her recliner on his other side, who gave Da’Quarius a wink. Rose watched from her own seat on the other side of Paulie (even though she didn’t understand how they could all watch something so barbaric). They shared Paulie’s secret recipe wings and watched the game.



Freedom Lane

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