I’m so excited to get rid of all this stuff.
Bitch you better not touch my vuvuzela.
What’s a—
I went halfway across the world for that little buzzing motherfucker.
Babe, I just don’t underst—
My dad has no legs because of that little piece of plastic, and I’ll be goddamned if you’re going to lay your spring-cleaning hands on it.
I’m just excited to clean things up, that’s all I’m saying.
That’s two feet of South Africa that goes to the grave with me.
What’s happening to you, Kevin?
What part of vuvzela don’t you understand?
How many times do I have to say it? I DIDN’T TEAR OFF YOUR FATHER’S LEGS.
Details. It’s people like you who—
People like me? People like what?
Who have no respect for the maimed.
Have no respect? I take your father to physical therapy three times a week, Kev! What the fuck are you talking about? And anyway I don’t think it’s doing any good keeping that buzzer thing—
Vuvzela.
—whatever, that vuvuzela, I don’t think it’s doing anyone any good that you keep it up on the wall.
My father gave his legs for that, and you don’t get it. And yet you’re acting surprised by this conversation.
Kevin. It’s time.
Time for what.
Time to talk about what happened. What really happened.
I’ll tell you what really happened. I was there. My father is a hero.
Your father dropped that buzzer, and then—
Vuvuzela.
—yes, the vuvuzela, he dropped it out of his cab when he was drunk, and he bent down to pick it up—
My father is a brave man. You don’t know what you’re saying! He’s a hero! Your father is a goddamned tax man and you wish he was a hero.
Your father bent down to pick up the vuvuzela, and he fell out of the cab. But the cab took off.
My father put bad people in prison for their crimes.
And then the cab ran over his legs.
My father built homes for the poor.
And because he was drunk, your father didn’t go to the hospital, and in the morning—
My father killed terrorists who were going to kill children.
—in the morning your father’s legs were unrecoverable.
Don’t touch that vuvuzela.
Crying isn’t going to make your father not be drunk that day.
Don’t.
Crying won’t bring him to the hospital that night, won’t make him act like any other sane person would have.
Leave me to my vuvuzela. I want to buzz like a bee.
You’ve got 45 minutes, then we’re cleaning this fucking garage.
