Saturday's Storyteller: "It's only stealing when it's family, dear."

by Belinda Roddie

"It's only stealing when it's family, dear."

"What?"

"I said, it's only stealing when it's family!"

"...I don't get it."

"Oh, Branson, darling. Have you gotten enough sleep?"

"Um. Chya. I slept from midnight to five PM."

"Oh, good amount of snooze time, then. Well. I suppose I ought to explain?"

"...Is this you getting back at me for stealing the last piece of pecan pie?"

"Oh, heavens, no, Branson. That was up for grabs."

"Okay, then what about the jar of change on your counter?"

"Oh, you must have realized it was all arcade tokens, right?"

"...Yeah, I did. That made me sad."

"No, dear. I got that adage from my father-in-law! Your great-grandfather, Mortimer."

"...I thought that was a made-up name."

"Everything's made up, dear! But on to the story. Daddy Morty was a staunch identity thief in his time."

"Please don't call him Daddy Morty ever again."

"But of course, that was before credit cards and online banking. So he had to get creative! He was truly a master of disguise."

"Was he, now?"

"Indeed he was! He had a whole closet full of costumes. And he'd read up on obituaries all the time, so he could pretend he was a lost loved one who had returned from the dead!"

"...What."

"Oh, it was brilliant. The residents of his small town were gullible little bitches! And he'd freak them out every time, asking for money to help rebuild their deceased relatives' lives."

"So it worked?!"

"Every time! My Daddy Morty was filthy rich by the time he was forty-two."

"Please stop calling him that."

"Course, that was before he was arrested."

"Not surprised at all."

"Though that was due to both the tax evasion and the assault on a police officer!"

"Wait, what."

"But he never stole from family. No identity theft from us. No betrayal. Now that's a true family man, don't you think?"

"...Are you fucking with me, Granny?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out, little Branson!"

"This is totally your revenge for me selling your electric typewriter on Ebay, isn't it?"

"You still owe me five hundred dollars for hawking it!"

"I spent it all on weed and junk food, Granny!"

"Well, that better have been some damn good weed, boy! And you better have some left!"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Well, sonny?"

"...I have a couple more ounces in my backpack."

"Atta boy, Branny! Now, get your vape out, and let's go to town!"

"Granny..."

"Because sharing is caring."

"Granny."

"And Daddy Morty would be proud."

"Granny."

This week's prompt was inspired by a conversation I had with my in-laws. This is [almost] all your fault, Paul.