Kisses

Son is sitting in his room listening to a song on his radio, Mickey walks in with a suitcase.

Mickey:
Son, we need to talk.

Son:
Good, now that we've gotten past that can I leave?

Mickey:
What? No- what are you talking about?

Son:
We've talked- can I go?

Mickey:
We need to talk- about your music.

Son:
I've gotta say, I wasn't expecting that- completely out of left field.

Mickey:
Your music son- is well frankly it's loud- just terribly loud.

Son:
You're too old.

Mickey:
What do you mean by that?

Son:
If it's too loud you're too old

Mickey:
Now you listen- there's no reason to say that- you know my age is my weakness- you don't need to jump all over me just because I've made a complaint.

Son:
All complaints must be written on an index card with a number 2 pencil and dropped in the complaint jar.

Mickey:
Son, we took out the complaint jar, and you know- you know I don't like to use number two pencils.

Son:
Pen if you like then, doesn't matter.

Mickey:
We think that this music is not good for you- not good for your ears or your mind.

Son:
It's not good for your ears and mind- feels weird when the cobwebs are swept off eh?

Mickey:
Son- can I sit down? My feet are in glorious pain.

Son:
Tired from all the heavy lifting at the office in front of the computer dad?

Mickey:
Don't mention my job- you know my job is something I don't like to talk about- may I sit down son?

Son:
If you keep your hands to yourself.

Mickey:
Listen son, what was that song you where listening to when I came in?

Son:
Why?

Mickey:
It is a perfect example of the music your mother and I don't want you listening to.

Son:
The Carpenters- you don't bring me rain anymore on Sundays or Mondays.

Mickey:
Stop jacking off on me son, you know- you know that that is not a Carpenters song- your mother and I went and saw a tribute concert to them for our anniversary- you know that. The Carpenters have nice music- that music wasn't nice son.

Son:
You're right- that's a point for you.

Mickey:
Well thank you son- thank you I'm glad I got the point across- do we have a deal.

Mother comes in with a tray of rolls and coffee cups .

Mother:
My boys- my lovely boys- how are my boys? Would they like some coffee and rolls?

Mickey:
Honey- I was just talking- I was just speaking about our son's musical choices as of late.

Mother:
Music- music son is meant to be nice, a nice thing.

Mickey:
That's right mother, bingo- bingo right on the noggin of the nail.

Mother:
What it comes down to son, is that we're going to have to confiscate your music- the bad music.

Mickey:
That's right son- we don't want to have to hurt you.

Son:
What? Hurt me?

Mother:
Well son, you can't just expect us to sit around at let you listen to that trashy trash trash and not react.

Son:
What do you men hurt me?

Mickey:
What do you mean?

Son:
What do you mean what do I mean?

Mickey:
You said, 'what do I men'

Son:
Whatever, what do you mean-

Mother:
I heard it too Mickey- that music is making his mind mixed up.

Mickey:
Thanks for backing me up mother honey

Mother bends down and the two french kiss for about two minutes, the son stares.

Mickey:
Now son, did that arouse you?

Son:
What?! What the fuck do you men- mean?

Mother:
Did it make your penis flutter when your father and I kissed each other?

Son:
What the fuck?!

Mickey:
No need to use foul language, it's something all parents and children talk about. You know I don't like foul language, and your mother doesn't like it either, do you mother?

Mother:
No- no I don't Mickey.

Son:
You- you guys are scaring me.

Mickey:
Don't say that son; we don't want to frighten you. We're just talking, just talking is all- about things that need to be discussed and talked about.

Son:
I'm leaving.

Mother:
Son- no- you aren't, we need to talk here, not anywhere else, you need to talk with us, not with your friends about these things- they are dangerous, dangerous people son- you know that, we've told you that.

Son:
I can't stay- I've got to get away from here.

Mickey:
Did you do it mother honey?

Mother:
I did- I did do it- you can't get out of this room son.

Son:
What- what the fuck do you mean?

Mickey:
Your mother and I decided we would prop a chair against the door so you couldn't get out- and away from the subjects at hand.

Son:
A-a chair?

Mother:
That's right son- a good strong chair so that you can't get out no matter how hard you try. Your father and I are certain you just won't be able to do it, you'll have to stay in here and talk with us.

Son:
But how- how are we going to get out?

Mickey:
Son, lets talk some more about your penis.

Mother:
No, I don't think we should- I've gotta get the fuck out of here- I'm going out the window.

Mickey:
Son, your mother and I sealed the windows shut last night while you wondrously slept, you can't open the window.

Mother:
Now about your penis.

Son:
No- no way- this is fucking me up.

Mickey:
There is no need to shave your pubic hair yet son- your still young, and it is too, leave it be.

Son:
What the fuck- how- how do you know- I can't do this.

Mother:
Your father and I occasionally watch you get undressed when you're getting ready to take a shower.

Son:
Holy fuck.

Mickey:
Do you want to know why your penis is different from other boys?

Son:
I'm going to break the window- I'm going-

Mother:
Son, if you attempt to break your astonishing window, we will be forced to cause harm to you.

Son:
Please- please you guys- let me out of here- I've got to get the fuck out of here.

Mickey:
I'll tell you one thing young man- you better not use another curse word, your mother and I- you know that we don't like it- we do not like it son.

Mother:
Sit down.

Mickey:
Sit down.

Son:
I- I don't want to.

Mickey:
Sit

Mother:
Down

Mother& Mickey:
NOW!

Son sits.

Mickey:
We love you son- we love you so much- we cannot express just how much we love, love, love you and cherish you and want to hold you close to us always.

Mother:
Mickey is right son; we do love you dearly- dearly oh so dearly we love you.

Mickey:
Do you love your mother and I son? Do you love us- as much as we love you?

Son:
I, I- yes.

Mickey:
Why don't you come over here- and give your mother and I a kiss on the lips.

Son:
I, I don't want to.

Mother:
Son, there is a war going on out there, lets not have one in here.

Mickey:
Come over here son, I don't want to come get you- come over here and kiss your mother and I on the lips. Now.

Mother:
Now son, faster.

The son slowly rises and stands in front of his father, who is smiling up at him.

Mickey:
We love you so much- we want to be good parents- kiss us son.

Mother:
Kiss us.

-end?-