I have no idea why Sal signs up for this, but of course my cousin instantly angles the conversation into "Tell your favorite Sal moment" stories, for the benefit of this girl -- and of course we all love to torture Sal. My uncle Joe goes first and we all know he is going to tell the Bedke story.
The Bedke's are this ranching family in Nevada and all the boys in our family go out there every October to hunt. Soooo..... the Sal/ Bedke story is a fabulous tale about how Sal had too much whiskey at the little bar in town, walked the wall to the men's room to poo, and then was too drunk to get himself off of the toilet. He starts yelling from the stall to my cousin Victor to help him up so he can wipe his ass (sidenote: we believe Victor told Sal to fuck off when he asked him to hold him up and that when Sal did manage to make it off the toilet, no real ass wiping took place). But Sal insists he wiped his ass (with Victor's assistance) and then someone threw him into the truck and he passed out.
Either way, it's pretty funny and we love what a tool Sal can be. Everyone is laughing their asses off and his g.f. is now saying she is not going to ask about Sal stories anymore (Whatever! We got me where that came from sister - don't be shy!). Shortly after this, I notice Sal is rubbing his stomach.
He heads down the hall and disappears into the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later he comes out and is looking all over until my uncle asks him what's up. He needs a plunger. That's right -- on the heels of Sal Toilet History telling, he just made some more by plugging up the toilet -- again! We are all just sitting in the kitchen laughing our asses off as he keeps looking for the plunger grumbling that "this house has fucked up plumbing" But we know what's fucked up -- it's Sal's ass!
My uncle then reveals that Sal has plugged up the loo at least four or five times at his house already. This alarms me -- not just for my uncle's future house values if all of the damn toilets blow out, but also for Sal. How many other toilets has he plugged? How many lives and pipes shattered in his colonic aftermath? Something had to be done.
But what to do, what to do? In an effort to assist everyone involved, my cousin Ruth and I suggest a pocket plunger. We are summarily flipped of by Captain Turd himself. Not very nice when people are trying to help...sheesh.
*My dear Shannon, this was not a recent trip to the Roy. I don't want you thinking I would be rolling into town after all of this time without seeing you!