The Official Mike Williams Club

-*From The How Did We Get Here Series*-

**Now**: The emergency surgery saved Rhonda LeFever’s life. In another ten minutes or so, it may have been too late. As she regained consciousness while still laying on the operating table, she saw the nurse holding up something small and square. Was it a credit card? No. As her eyes began to focus, she could make out the details of a driver’s license. Where did that come from? Did her previous surgeon drop it inside her body and seal it up? OMG! That fucking doctor’s days were numbered if she had anything to say about it.

**Before**: Dr. Darryl Trippenheimer was getting aggravated. He had a surgery to perform in five minutes and all his attending nurse could do was to try and start an argument about their sexual encounter the night before. Most professional people in Darryl’s mind knew when it was time to get work done and when it was time to discuss sexual proclivities. Thank goodness, they were the only two people scrubbing up at the moment.  “Not now, Nancy,” he muttered to her under his breath. She let out an almost inaudible sigh and said, “I need to know where this relationship is going Darryl.” The doctor blew a raspberry. “We’ll talk about this after Mrs. LeFever’s surgery.” Nancy’s lips started to move.

With his arms raised, the doctor made his way into the operating room before Head Nurse Nancy Jean Kelly could say anything else to him. He kept telling himself that he needed to focus on the surgery. He should have known better than to sleep with Nancy. His colleagues tried to warn him. He really did find her irresistible as long as she didn’t say anything. Ever.

The doctor never locked his personal locker so Nancy wondered over to the half opened locker and quickly removed the doctor’s driver’s license. This would show him. It may not manifest immediately but eventually someone would find his driver’s license inside Mrs. LeFever’s private area and there would be no doubt as to who left it there. Nancy Kelly usually always never got mad. She did, however, get even. Nancy smiled as she made her way into the surgical area.

-*From The How Did We Get Here Series*-

**Now**: The clown knew exactly what he was doing. The TouchSomeone company had taken off in a big way. The company started out by offering the ability to pay someone to give a loved one a remote “hug” when they desperately needed one. The TouchSomeone company had finally decided to up its game. There was a new company called ReCare that was threatening to move in on the TouchSomeone brand. Which brings us to the clown. The clown looked around for a place to set the flower arrangement he was carrying. Becky Flavous was standing in front of the clown. She had a big smile on her face expecting to be hugged or sung to or something else that she considered nice. The clown reached back as if he was going to throw something and punched Becky Flavous right in her face. She was immediately knocked out. The clown smiled and gathered his flowers because after all, they really weren’t for Becky.

**Before**: “Because I said so,” Becky Flavous said as she slammed down the phone on her office desk. She was tired of dealing with these low life subordinates who were constantly screwing things up and making her pampered life even harder. Did she break a nail when she slammed the phone down? Fuck.
“So let me get this straight, you are now offering a remote punch someone in the face option?” Laura Caswell asked. Becky Flavous could kiss her ass. She couldn’t shoot her. If she thought about it, she could probably come up with a way to get rid of her but she needed…no, she demanded immediate satisfaction. No one talked to her that way; certainly not even that cunt Becky “fuck everything that moves” Flavous.
“Great,” she responded to her phone. “I’ll even pay a little extra if the clown puts a little something extra on it.” She put the office phone back on the receiver and smiled. Fuck Becky Flavous. Fuck her right in her smug little face.

-*From The How Did We Get Here Series*-

**Now**: The screaming from inside the small bathroom was music to Agatha’s young ears. She leaned against the outside wall of the bathroom laughing and trying desperately to avoid peeing herself. Inside the small bathroom, her older brother Peter was crying. The once pristine toilet bowl now a lovely shade of green once Peter begun conducting his business was evidence that a heinous crime had taken place here. The real question that Peter was asking himself was “what did that bitch do to me?”

**Before**: Despite her kicking and screaming, Agatha quickly realized that she wasn’t going to get her bedroom closet open from the inside. Her lovely brother Peter had seen to that. The torment began when she was only 5 or so but had continued into her early teens. Peter had locked her in her own closet and this was going to be the last straw. She had taken his abuse for far too long and she was finished being a victim. Her parents were of no use in the matter. She needed to take things into her own hands.

She couldn’t quite point a finger on where she had heard of the idea. Her brother loved gummy candy. He ate loads of it before going to bed each night. He kept a container of them near his bed at all times. These were facts about her brother that she could use against him.

Agatha spent the better part of an afternoon purchasing the brand and style of gummy candy that her brother loved. This particular brand contained a juicy center. Perfect for Agatha’s idea.

A painstaking period of time in the kitchen with everyone away doing various things that parents and asshole brothers do was all that Agatha needed. She very carefully replaced the juicy gummy insides with something just as yummy and oh so colorful. Peter would never know. He would just sit there on his bed eating the gummies and reading the porn magazines he hid under his mattress that he didn’t think anyone knew about.

Peter woke up the next morning and wandered into the bathroom to relieve himself. Why was his pee green? He instantly let out a guttural growl and yelled…

“Agatha!”

-*From The How Did We Get Here Series*-

**Now**: A plethora of blue and red spinning lights, an incredibly loud siren, and the metal sounds of exit doors slamming shut were all that could be observed at the Franklin Davis Memorial Post Office #736 in Sutter’s Creek, North Carolina. Janet Wyatt was standing next to Gunther Johnson in the employee parking lot passing a flask back and forth as the postal employees were wildly speculating about the nature of the evacuation. Word soon got around that Cletus Culpepper discovered some powder on an envelope that passed through his sorter. Cletus acknowledged that “he was no expert” but he thought someone was fixin to kill someone named Grandpa Thomas with Anthrax or baby powder, he couldn’t be sure.

**Before**: Gillian Baker Thomas placed her moist finger tips on the adhesive on the envelope and proceeded to seal it shut. This was stupid. Her uncle Roy’s idea to pass around Grandpa Thomas’ cremated remains through the mail to his family members seemed like a bad idea. Her living room looked like a meth lab. Her family looking like meth lab workers as they took great care to place a small portion of Grandpa Thomas’ remains into several small envelopes.
Gillian’s son Paul has warned against sending the remains through the mail. He thought there could have been a law against it but he was no lawyer so what did he know?
Several family members were unable to attend the funeral. Sure, the family could have sent copies of the funeral program but it just wouldn’t be the same. Ashes of the person you love. Now, that was something that had meaning.
Paul shrugged his shoulders as he prepared the last envelope. The tape he was using had just run out. He could replace the roll but this had gone on for too long. His weekly D & D game would be starting in a half and hour and he had to get moving.

That last envelope was probably strong enough to make it through the U.S. mail. He was fairly certain of it.