Thursday, February 29, 2024
Wednesday, February 28, 2024
Tuesday, February 27, 2024
Thursday, February 22, 2024
Zionist Posters in Toronto
Image source: https://twitter.com/sahouraxo/status/1760327360375603211
If you see these, be careful when taking them down. These posters could have razors underneath them.
Wednesday, February 21, 2024
Tuesday, February 20, 2024
Saturday, February 17, 2024
Friday, February 16, 2024
Tuesday, February 13, 2024
Sunday, February 11, 2024
Friday, February 9, 2024
Thursday, February 8, 2024
Wednesday, February 7, 2024
Monday, February 5, 2024
Sunday, February 4, 2024
Saturday, February 3, 2024
Abbacchio Babysits for a Few Minutes
"Please, can you do me this favor? I'm begging! This is important! Can you babysit this kid for me?" Mista said through the phone.
Abbacchio sighed. He was in the middle of driving. "I don't want to take care of your brat."
"It's not my kid. It's Bucciarati's kid."
"What?"
"Yeah, and don't you have a crush on him?"
"I do. Wait, no! I don't. Well, yeah— It's none of your business! So, you're telling me he's not a virgin? Damn it! Wait, he's not married. I thought he was the type to start a family after he got married."
"I think he found Narancia in a trash can. I don't know. Oh, and I already left the house."
"So, he's at your house?"
"No, he's locked inside Bucciarati's house. I put the keys under the doormat."
"You put the keys under the doormat instead of waiting and giving them to me?"
"I gotta go, man! Oh, and I may have microwaved some food and forgot to remove the fork."
"Damn it, Mista!" Abbacchio ended the call, turned on his siren, and stepped on the gas pedal, driving to Bucciarati's house.
He parked nearby and noticed the keys were under the welcome mat but on top of it.
"Ugh, idiot," he mumbled.
Abbacchio picked up the keys and went inside. The room was surprisingly tidy despite the chaos Mista could make. As for Narancia, he sat on the sofa with an almost empty bowl of popcorn, watching TV.
"Hello," he said.
"Is that popcorn you're eating?"
The boy nodded his head. "Mista made me something."
Right, the microwave. Abbacchio ran to the kitchen, but Mista must've forgotten to turn the microwave on. There was a plate of macaroni and cheese with a large amount of broccoli when he looked inside.
He was unaware of Narancia's presence.
"Can you eat the broccoli for me?" the toddler asked. "I'll give you something." He brought out his hands, revealing saliva-covered popcorn.
"Gross, absolutely not!"
"Dad doesn't like it when I don't eat my vegetables." He gave puppy eyes.
"Don't you want to make your dad happy?"
"But he's not here."
"Then I'll just tell him you didn't eat your vegetables. Eat them, or your dad will ground you."
Narancia hit Abbacchio's leg. It didn't hurt but annoyed him.
"What was that for, you brat?" raised the cop's voice.
"I don't like you!" he yelled, pouting.
The doorbell rang.
"Dad!" Narancia ran to the door.
"Wait! It could be a stranger!" Abbacchio chased after him.
The toddler struggled to open the door, but whoever was on the other door had the key and unlocked it.
"Abbacchio?" Bucciarati called out. He crossed his arms. "What are you doing here? Did Mista leave to go on a date?"
"Is that what Mista's doing?"
"I don't know. Did he forget to warm up the macaroni and cheese before he left?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah, he's on a date with someone."
"Ugh, idiot!" Abbacchio clenched his fists.
Narancia laughed.
"Okay, time for bed." Bucciarati carried his son and took him upstairs to sleep. After that, he returned to the living room and sat on the couch, legs crossed. "So, Abbacchio, you're not doing anything, are you?"
"No." He sat down next to him. "I'm not. So, uh, how long have you had that kid?"
"Narancia?" He switched the channel to a fishing show. "Someone abandoned him. I couldn't leave him there. Besides, I always wanted a family."
"A family, huh? You always spoke highly about your parents despite them being divorced."
Bucciarati rested on Abbacchio's shoulder. "Yeah. Maybe one day I'll get married. Although, I wonder if the person knows I like them."
"W-who is it?"
He giggled. "I thought you'd know. Mista told me who you had a crush on."
"That loudmouth. I guess I should thank him."
Narancia ran down the stairs. "Are you two in love?"
"I thought I told you it was time for bed," a blushing Bucciarati dodged the question.
Narancia stared at Abbacchio. They had just met, and the cop had been harsh to him. He probably hated him, which made Abbacchio even more nervous.
"I never ate my macaroni and cheese. I didn't even eat the broccoli," the toddler said.
"Oh, right! I was about to fix that before you came in," Abbacchio said. He picked up Narancia to take him to the kitchen until he realized something. "Wait, hold on, why would you hire Mista to babysit Narancia?"
"Fugo is usually the babysitter, but his family kicked him out of the house. I had to find a home for him to live in."
"Ugh, rich people. Let's move him in with us. How hard can it be to raise a small child and a teenager?"
"Oh, you're living with me now?" Bucciarati asked.
Abbacchio turned red. "Oops, did I say that? We're supposed to go on a dinner date first, right?"
"Narancia, could you go into the kitchen, please?"
Abbacchio put him on the floor, so he moved around and did as Bucciarati asked.
Bucciarati got up from the couch and pinned Abbacchio to the wall. The cop felt his heart racing.
"I don't plan on taking things slow. I wanted you for a while, Leone." Bucciarati's lips got closer to his. When they touched, their lips locked. He withdrew to talk. "Don't you feel the same?"
"Of course, Bruno!" Then he reversed the situation, pinning Bucciarati. "I've been waiting for this for a while." He slid his tongue inside his.
"Dad, I'm hungry!" whined Narancia.
Abbacchio withdrew and wiped the trail of saliva. "We should feed him."
"Alright, let me tell Mista how lazy he was at his job." Bucciarati was about to dial him.
"No, no. Let me. He'll listen to me."
Friday, February 2, 2024
Thursday, February 1, 2024
What If
It was 1992, and Abbacchio sat at his desk in the classroom. Every student was present except for Bruno. The two were very close to the point where Abbacchio developed a little crush.
Curious to know where he went, Abbacchio threw a small paper ball at a girl, grabbing her attention. "Where did Bucciarati go?"
"I'm sorry. I don't know," she replied. She then asked another student.
"He's at the hospital. Yesterday, something bad happened to his dad," answered a boy. "Couldn't his mom drop him off or something?"
None of them knew that Bruno's parents got divorced except Abbacchio.
"Could you tell me the hospital's name or maybe write it down?"
The boy tore a piece of paper, wrote it down, and handed it to Abbacchio.
"Thanks."
The teacher walked in, and then class started. While the lessons were going on, he couldn't concentrate, wondering what had happened. Once school was over, he headed to the hospital, speaking to the man at the reception desk.
"Uh, hello," Abbacchio said.
"Is one of your family members here?" he asked.
"No, but—"
"Then you should leave."
"Is Bruno Bucciarati here?"
"Family only."
"The only family Bruno has is his dad, but something happened. I am the closest person to him!" he yelled.
"Abbacchio?" He heard Bruno's voice, turned to face him, and examined his tired face.
"Bruno!" He rushed in to hug him, holding him tight. "I missed you. You usually call me whenever something happens, but someone told me something bad happened to your dad. I'm sorry I didn't know. Will you be alright?"
Bruno returned the hug. "Yeah, I will, but I'm worried about my dad. The surgeons worked all night to keep my dad alive." He moved closer to Abbacchio's ears and whispered, "But those guys will be back, I know it. Leave. I don't think I'll return to school ever."
"What?" He withdrew from the hug.
"Leone, go home."
"No," he whispered. "Can I at least help you?"
"I'm not dragging you into this."
"Please."
"Stop."
"Why won't you let me?"
"Why are you so persistent?"
Abbacchio blushed. "I like being with you."
"Are you sure about this?" Bruno continued whispering. "I'm going to hide under the bed to strike them. What will you do?"
"Let me hide under the bed with you. I have a pair of scissors."
"Are you ready for this? We're about to murder two people. What about your dreams of becoming a police officer? You can't be a cop if you murder someone."
"I— I don't care! I want to protect you and your dad!"
Bruno embraced him. "Thank you."
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