Once I left high school, and moved away from home, Goose and I got into an argument around Christmas over the true origins of eggnog. Any friend of Sampson L. Hartwig would say he knows his eggnog trivia and takes it quite seriously, and if they didn’t say that they’re a damn dirty servant of the devil and will burn for their lies.

Goose and I stopped talking to each other. I waited for him to apologize for the ugly thing he said about Pierce Egan and he waited for me to apologize for wetting his pants while he slept, though I tried to tell him he was responsible for that himself.

Our mother could not stand it much longer. She ordered us to get together and work out our differences or she would disown us. We refused, then she threatened to sell us into white slavery. I said I would meet with him, but Goose was adamant, and thought the life of a slave sounded exciting.

It was our sister Stephanie who eventually brought us together, writing to each of us an apology letter supposedly from the other. She mastered my signature perfectly, and the letter I received certainly smelled like Goose, but I think she had managed to mix the right scent in a burlap bag of dirt, tobacco, and wet sheep wool.

Well, the next time Goose and I saw each other, we didn’t even have to speak. Each of us broke into tears and hugged the other, just happy we were brothers again. We agreed to disagree on the eggnog issue, though Goose never really agreed to it, and said being brothers was bigger than any alcoholic holiday drink.

As you can guess, I suspected Stephanie as being the culprit in bringing us back together, through her clever ruse. I imagine Goose did as well—at least I think that’s why he punched her in the face on that Christmas morning, knocking out two teeth. He never did explain that very well to us.”

“Argument”

"Field Goal"
I was not a football player myself, but a cherished member of the Oscar Wilde Yahtzee Team. My school pride knew no bounds, including legal ones. I shouted and cheered for the home team through the match, touting our strong defense and lack of homosexuals on the team.

"Fiddle"
In childhood I first discovered music. For my birthday Dad gave me a fiddle, and a year later, for another birthday, he gave me a bow. I was so happy when fiddle met bow and made beautiful music. Or failing that, sharp screeching sounds that I enjoyed.

"Plan"
As an idealistic young man, I came up with a plan for America. Most politically-active young Americans have ideas on how to improve their country. You did, didn’t you? Well, hooray for you. I actually wrote it down.