Writing prompt courtesy of my friend.

She gave me the prompt... here are the results...

"Jesus, Ed, you stink."

"Well, aren't we just Miss Congeniality tonight. You do realize we have a job to do, right?"

Of course I knew I had a job to do, I'm good, I always have jobs I can do. Although if I had known this particular job involved a pushy, mouthy and not to mention rotting corpse; I might have reconsidered taking it. Mumbling under my breath, I prepared my tools.

“Why do you always call me Ed?”

“What do you want me to call you?”

“I don’t know, Grandpa?”

I snorted. Yea right. “Grandpa? Get real. Why the hell would I call you that?” The needles slid into their slot. I prepared small little cups in a neat row.

“Look young lady, there is something to be said for respect.”

“Ed, when you deserve my respect, you’ll get it. Until then, you are Ed, family or not. Just be thankful I’m calling you by your given name. It could always be worse.”

“That is such a bad attitude for someone so young to have. Could always be worse? Of course it could always be worse. I could be Satan in hiding and about to rip out your soul.”

“Ed, if that’d get you to shut up, it may not be so bad.”

“You, little girl, are going to get smacked in the face with reality one day.”

“Disappointed you won’t be around to see it, Old-timer?” I can’t believe I’m doing this here. I guess it had to be sanitary considering the location, but still. The smell was getting to me. If it wasn’t the moth balls it was the Bengay.

“You need to lean back so I can shave and clean the area,” I said in a professional tone. I’m not a big fan of chatter when I work anyway. It’s not like I’m a fucking hair dresser or something.

With some grumbling, Ed did as he was told. Bout damn time.

“This will hurt, you know that right?”

“What am I some green horn? You startin’ to care about me?”

“I care about my work. If you flinch because you can’t handle it, my work will be fucked.”

“Such language.”

“You’re one to talk, Sailor.” After a beat I said, “Is that what this is about?”

“What this is about is nunya.”

“Yea, I gotcha. Nunya God damned business.”

“I would’ve taken the God part out of that statement.”

“That’s cause yer old and soft.” I pressed on the flesh of his chest. “It’s watery under there old man. You are rotting before my very eyes.”

Ed grabbed my hand and held it there. His clear, directive gaze bored into mine.
“Lay off me okay, Squirt?”

“Alright, geez.” Oh man, I’d never seen him like that before. Ed was a certifiable hard ass. He could take my shit as well as I could dish it out. I liked that in a person. It was even better in family. Yup, Ed is family. He’s my mom’s dad.

Notice I didn’t say Grandpa. He was never that to me. Hell, he was never dad to my mom. He came into our lives pretty late. Late for us, way too late for Louisa, my grandmother. I didn’t call her a family name either. My mom didn’t call her mom. If she was mom, then there should’ve been a dad, and there wasn’t. Same for Grandma I guess.

I finished shaving his chest and laying the design on it. “Sure about this?”

“Absolutely, just shut up and work.”

“Nice, what kind of sailor are you anyway. No tattoos. Sheesh, that’s a sailor abomination or something.”

“You gonna do this or what.”

“Sure yea, no problem. I just want to make sure this is what you want.”

“Hell why would I not want it. You said yourself, what good is a sailor without tattoos.”

“Not any good at all.”

“Yer startin’ to get it, Squirt.”

“And you want Louisa on the banner below her?”

“That’s what I said isn’t it?”

“Yes, but…”

“Speak of going soft. Are you touched in the head or something girl. We’ve got a job to do here. I said what I wanted and I meant it, now get to the causing pain part.”

“Fine, ya old codger. I’ll make my deceased grandmother have huge perky boobs. Happy?”

“Immensely.” He waggled his eyebrows at me.

And this was why I didn’t call him Grandpa. It was just too creepy.