Ted the Alligator Trolls Peter (clean version)

  • Ted the Alligator Trolls Peter (clean version)

    Peter, my 7'4" curly-haired and green-eyed client, was going to do some yardwork, but as he stepped into the back yard, an alligator greeted him with a growl.

    Peter screamed like a little girl and threw the weed whacker behind him. "Aaaaaaahhhhh! What in the world is an alligator doing in my backyard?!" he asked in a high-pitched voice as he jumped back. 

    "Hey, dude. What's up?" the alligator asked him. 

    Peter uttered an orchestra of screams and random noises. "What what what on Earth?" he asked in the same high-pitched voice.

    The alligator started singing along with him. "You have a great singing voice. I came from the swamp in Walnut Grove," he said. I agreed. Peter's voice in itself was a smooth, Southern voice that was not too deep or too high. When he made high-pitched sounds, I would always laugh. I even like his singing voice. 

    "Why is there a swamp in Walnut Grove, and why in the world are you in my yard?" Peter asked as he took a step back. 

    The alligator took a step toward him. "The toll roads in Florida are too expensive for my taste. There is lot of rain and no toll roads in Walnut Grove. Heck, there isn't much of anything there to be honest. I ate all the people there, and I'm still hungry," the alligator said with a mischievous grin. 

    "Jumping Jiversticks!" Peter said as he started running away. 

    The alligator went after him and started nipping at his size 12 brown shoes. For being 7'4," he had very dainty feet.

    Peter continually screamed. He jumped until he closed the porch door. Screams could still be heard from the inside of the house. Peter was using words that should never be repeated in polite company.

    Ted the Alligator burst through the house door and yelled, "I support Donald Trump. DRAIN THE SWAMP. It needs fresh water!"

    I really started laughing my butt off. 

    Peter screamed like a little girl again. "Ahhh. The beast supports Donald Trump! This is a nightmare!" He jumped up on the table and pointed at him with his mouth open in horror and eyes behind leopard-printed glasses wide with fear.

    Tug, his basenji, emerged from the family room and saw the alligator. "Jeepers Creepers! I'm getting the heck out of here," he said as he high-tailed it out of there. "Death to Trump!!!!"

    Ted walked up to the dining room table and started chomping on the bottom of it. 

    Peter jumped off the table and ran to the room leading up the stairs. Ted followed him to the stairs and growled up the stairs. Peter screamed as he flew up the stairs. He screamed more obscenities. 

    Ted laughed and looked at me. "He is so funny when he screams like a little girl," he said.

    I laughed to the point where I was crying. "He really is. If I need to handle that tall jerk, I'll just call you," I said. 

    "No problem. Chasing Peter around is fun and easy. When he screams, he cracks me up," Ted said with a laugh. All of a sudden, he burst into song. "DRAINING THE SWAMP! DRAINING THE SWAMP! I DON'T CARE IF I'M DRAINING THE SWAMP! GET THE ILLEGALS OUT OF HERE! BUILD A WALL BECAUSE THEY CAN'T CLIMB!!!!"

    I was bursting out laughing and rolling on Peter's pseudo wooden floor. 

    "I hear you! Stop singing! Stop singing!!! Stop singing!" Peter yelled down to Ted. I heard stomps from upstairs. 

    "My Goodness. Over a song he throws a temper tantrum," Ted said. "He is so sensitive."

    "You don't know the half of it. Peter is an eight-year-old boy trapped in a middle-aged body," I responded. Peter was a 54-year-old who could pass for being 40. He used to be a male model before he had to come home and take care of his aging parents. He now does drywalling as a day job, and he HATES it. He loathes anything to do with drywall entirely. He hates to do work in general. He would rather play and/or work on his art and/or publish his two novels. 

    "Must be rough," Ted said. 

    All of a sudden, there was a knock at the door. 

    "Peter! Get the door!" Jamie, Peter's father, yelled in a deep Southern voice. He was an 83-year-old man who had a hip replacement 16 years ago. He used a wheel chair to get around.

    "No way! There is an alligator downstairs! Don't leave the bedroom! I'm serious!" Peter yelled back. 

    Jamie yelled, "You're out of your mind! There is no way an alligator is in the house. Are you hallucinating again?" He asked that question because Peter was sleepwalking one night and was screaming about Swamp Thing at 1 a.m. I wasn't here at 1 a.m., but his father told me about it humorously the next morning.

    Ted and I chuckled to each other. There was another knock at the door. 

    "I'm serious, Dad! There is an alligator in the house! Just take a peek!" Peter yelled. 

    I was rolling on the floor laughing with no sound. 

    "Are you okay, ma'am?" Ted asked. 

    "Not really. I'm dying," I said as I laughed and cried. 

    "Maybe I should show myself to that poor man to make Peter seem more normal," Ted said as he slowly crawled to Peter's parents' bedroom. 

    Godiva, Peter's curious mother and Jamie's wife and caregiver, tried to emerge from their room. "OH MY GOODNESS!" she yelled. She was an 80-year-old lady who was 5'3" and had a pleasant Southern voice. 

    Ted made a soft, sarcastic growl. "Hey lady. What's going on?" he asked. 

    She screamed a bit and looked at him with wide bright blue eyes. She noticed that he also spoke English and wasn't trying to attack her. "Oh my Goodness!" she said before she laughed and held her hand to her chest to contain her heart in her chest. "I'm sorry. I was just shocked. Can you let me by to answer the door?"

    "No problem. I get that reaction all the time," Ted said as he moved out of her way. 

    "Thank you," she said as she went to answer the door. She saw my other client, Mr. Williamson. "Hello? How may I help you?"

    "Hey. Is my alligator in here?" he asked. He was a black man with white hair and glasses. He was 5'6" and wore a black fleece, blue exercise pants, and black Crocs. He was a Christian minister and a vegan. He carried a cane with him in case he needed to hit someone with a cane. 

    "As a matter of fact, he is!" Godiva said. "You can come in if you like."

    "Thank you. Oh hey, Zara," Mr. Williamson said as he stepped in the door. "So this is the other client you see. Odd? I thought he was a dude." He called me "Zara" because it was easier to pronounce than X-ara. Xara was my real name.

    "The other dude is up the stairs freaking out about Ted," I said while cracking up. Yes, I always make fun of Peter behind his back and to his face. 

    "Yes! Hello, sir," Peter said as he waved to him. 

    "Hey. How you doing?" Mr. Williamson asked.

    "Ready to have a heart attack, sir," he said in a normal tone before raising his voice and narrowing his eyes. "Can you please for the love of humanity get your alligator out of my house?!" He then switched to a polite voice and smiled. "Thank you."

    Ted and I started howling with laughter. 

    "Yessir. Nice to meet you, too," Mr. Williamson said. "Come on, Ted. Let's go spread the message to drain the swamp and to make the public aware of the effects of the government shut down. Also, let's terrorize the non-believers."

    "Yessir," Ted said as he willingly got into the leash Mr. Williamson had for him. "I just needed to do my own terrorizing. There was this jerk crocodile named Cody I needed to take care of."

    "Oh Lord have mercy. Cody! That crocodile is always up to no good! Come on. Let's roll. Thank you, Zara's clients," he said as he walked with Ted and his trusty cane. 

    "You're welcome," Godiva said as she waved. "Nice meeting you."

    "Nice meeting you. Please don't let him loose again," Peter said with a perturbed smile. 

    "I won't," Mr. Williamson said. 

    "Eat you later, Peter," Ted said with a huge grin. 

    "The heck you will," Peter said as he stuck his tongue out at Ted. 

    Mr. Williamson and Ted went on their way. I laughed my butt off on the floor some more. 

    Godiva giggled a bit, too. "What was that?!" she asked with a laugh. 

    "The same thing that happens every second of the day in this house. ABSOLUTE MASS CHAOS!" Peter yelled down the stairs. 

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