Free JPod by Douglas Coupland

novocaine)
    Massachusetts
    Muslix
    Nepali
    Noodle
    Norwegian
    Nyorsk
    Occitan
    Ontario
    Oriya
    Pebbles (Flintstone)
    Persian
    Pig Latin
    Pig Latin (stoned)
    Pitcairn
    Polish
    Portuguese (Brazil)
    Portugese (Portugal)
    Punjabi
    Rastafarian
    Romanian
    Rotarian
    Russian
    Sailor Moon
    Scooby-Doo
    Serbian
    Serbo-Croatian
    Shoe
    Shrink wrap
    Sinhalese
    Slovak
    Slovenian
    Snoopy
    Spanish
    Spice rack
    Stepford
    Swahili
    Swedish
    Tagalog
    Tamil
    Tang
    Telugu
    Texan
    Thai
    Tlon
    Toast
    Turkish
    Turkmen
    Twizzlers
    Ukrainian
    Urdu
    Uzbek
    Vanna White
    Vietnamese
    Welsh
    Welsh rarebit
    Xbox
    Xena
    Xhosa
    Yabba Dabba Doo
    Yiddish
    Zulu
    . . .

    The rest of the afternoon passed without incident, mosdy with me going around the building, massaging egos and putting out fires. If I'm ever going to become an assistant production assistant, then this is the way forward.
    I got back to jPod around seven, and my message light was blinking, so it had to be Mom or Dad. Dad said, "Ethan, it's five to seven. Call me the moment you get this."
    I called him.
    "Thank frigging God," Dad said. "Get over here."
    "What's going on?"
    "Just come, right now."
    "Did Mom find out about. . . ?"
    "No. Just get over here."
    And so I drove to the house. Dad's car was in the carport, and there was a small silver Suzuki Sidekick parked out front, which I assumed belonged to Ellen, as every single woman I've ever met who does set-dec work in film drives one of these things or something similar. I parked behind it, only to see Ellen walk across the lawn towards the creek, naked. Dad opened the door.
    "Ethan—help me grab her."
    "I'm not touching her, Dad."
    "She's high as ten kites."
    "It doesn't matter."
    Before she fell into the creek and cracked her skull, Dad headed across the grass and lifted her up like a set of heavy golf clubs. "Upsy-daisy." Ellen kept moving her limbs as if she was still walking, which was more than slighdy disturbing. He carried her in the front door, yelling over his shoulder, "She went downstairs and took the biggest bud off The Dude. Smoked the whole frigging thing."
    "Oh shit. How are you going to explain that to Mom?" Ellen had mutilated Mom's favourite and oldest plant, called The Dude, even though it's a female.
    "You tell me. I'm screwed." I followed him down the hall to Greg's old room.
    "Ellen and I stopped by to get my Abraham Lincoln hat for my audition, which was set for six o'clock. I gave her a tour of the basement, and then the phone rang, and by the time I got back downstairs— powl —she's baked, and there goes my Abe Lincoln role, stupid bitch. So I laid her down on your brother's bed so I could figure out what to do next, which was when I called you. Next thing, I look out the front window, and she's off sleepwalking towards the Brodies' breakfast nook." Dad was slipping a T-shirt and a pair of sweat bottoms onto Ellen, who was moaning. "Where's your mother?" asked Dad.
    "No idea. She came out to visit me at work today."
    "She what?"
    "Exacdy. She said she wanted to see where I work."
    "Why would she do that}"
    Just then we heard Mom's car pull into the carport. Dad looked at me. "Ellen's your new girlfriend. End of story." We hightailed it to the kitchen.
    From the back door, I heard, "Ethan? Is that you?"
    She came into the kitchen. "Oh hi, dear. Didn't get enough of me at work today, huh?"
    "I just thought I'd come see how you guys are doing."
    Both of them were squinting at me, wondering if I was about to blow their secrets. I glanced at Dad. "I also have a new girlfriend, and I thought I'd introduce her to you."
    "A new girlfriend? Finally—the possibility of grandchildren."
    "I also have bad news for you, Mom."
    "... Oh?" At this point, bad news could mean many things. "Like what?"
    "I showed Ellen your business downstairs, and she picked a bud off The Dude."
    "She what?"
    "It happened before I could say anyth—"
    "Ethan, you know how I feel about The Dude. And I was trying to get a nice shape back to her after all