Sheila's House, First Floor.
Hearing Frank's promise via Eddie, Sheila instantly perked up. Relieved, she threw her arms around Eddie in a massive hug.
"Oh! Eddie, thank you! Thank you so much," Sheila said, her voice trembling with excitent.
Eddie was speechless. Honestly, what could he say?
He cheated—in his own house, no less—and the result was his wife thanking him from the bottom of her heart...
Even dayti soaps wouldn't dare write a script this twisted.
Eddie stayed silent for a mont. Suddenly, he couldn't help but think of God, tilting his head up slightly. A second later, his thoughts drifted to Lucifer, and he lowered his head, a chill running down his spine.
I'm definitely going to hell, Eddie thought silently, terrified.
anwhile, Sheila, her heart finally at ease, let go of Eddie and sat back down at the dining table to finish her breakfast.
Eddie glanced at Sheila and sat back down too. But he didn't pick up the newspaper. Instead, he sat there with a heavy expression, contemplating Heaven and Hell.
After thinking for a bit, a funny thought crossed Eddie's mind.
Sheila betrayed him first. They weren't even divorced, and she was openly banging Frank right here in the house.
If anyone was going to hell...
Sheila would be going. Frank was definitely going. Monica was absolutely going...
Co to think of it, looking at the South Side of Chicago as a whole, how many shaless bastards around here deserved to burn?
Heh.
When the ti cos, maybe Hell will have to set aside a special plot of land just to build a replica of the South Side.
The South Side Edition of Hell.
The thought made Eddie smile.
Upstairs.
Monica and Frank's relationship was deeply pathological.
Fueled by this dysfunction, and at Monica's urging, Frank got out of bed, got dressed, and prepared to head back to the Gallagher house.
"We'll co back here to sleep tonight," Frank declared. "We earned this place. We can't let it go to waste."
Monica agreed wholeheartedly, nodding decisively. "Damn straight."
Soon, the two of them headed downstairs.
Sheila had just finished breakfast and was clearing the dishes. When she saw Frank and Monica clearly making moves to leave, she panicked. She rushed over to Frank's side imdiately. "Frank? You said you weren't leaving! Where are you going?"
Frank flashed a smile. "Monica and I just have so business to handle. We'll be back tonight. Make dinner a little early, and make it a feast. We need to celebrate Monica coming ho."
Look at that. Just pure, unadulterated shalessness.
But Sheila didn't catch the manipulation. She just heard "coming back tonight," breathed a sigh of relief, and nodded with a bright smile. "Okay! I'll make a huge dinner. Co back early."
"You got it!" Frank gave a fake smile, then turned on his heel and walked out with Monica.
Frank didn't have a shred of affection for Sheila.
To Frank... Sheila was just a tool.
---
The Gallagher House.
Living Room.
Lip was sitting on the couch, smoking a joint, puffing away happily. He felt great. He was enjoying the hell out of himself.
What? The family is broke as a joke, and he's smoking weed?
Heh. Weed was Lip's soul food. It didn't matter how poor he was; he had to smoke.
Just like how Fiona occasionally needed to go to a club to grind on strangers, drink, and do a few lines.
Being poor doesn't stop the party.
As the smoke swirled around the room, Lip grabbed a beer and chugged it.
Weed and beer. A magical combination.
Pure bliss.
Lip was completely unaware that, in this mont, he was virtually indistinguishable from Frank.
Just then, Frank and Monica walked into the house, laughing, chatting, and making noise.
Hearing the commotion, Lip turned his head. His eyes imdiately filled with clear disgust.
Frank, with his junkie radar, instantly spotted the joint in Lip's hand. His eyes lit up, and he imdiately shuffled over, putting on an ingratiating grin. "Son! Good things are ant to be shared. Give your mom and a hit."
Lip glared at Frank. "No."
This was good weed!
Frank would debase himself completely for a free beer, so imagine what he'd do for weed...
Frank imdiately started pestering him.
When it ca to the kids, Monica was definitely better than Frank. Even though she really wanted a hit, she watched for a second, saw that Lip was about to blow up at Frank, and quickly intervened, dragging Frank away.
Frank was pissed. He couldn't believe this ungrateful bastard of a son was so heartless he wouldn't even share a single joint. "You little piece of sht! I worked my ass off raising you! I fed you, I clothed you, I put a roof over your head..."
Frank angrily rattled off a list of things that never actually happened. "And this is how you repay ? You won't even give a hit? I really should have just shot you onto the wall."
Normally, Frank wouldn't go this hard over a joint.
But Monica was watching. Frank had to defend his masculinity!
Lip wasn't having any of it. He exploded, veins popping out on his forehead, eyes practically spitting fire as he glared at Frank and started screaming back.
Seeing this, Monica panicked and tried frantically to diate between the two.
The Gallagher living room was suddenly chaotic and loud, returning to its natural state.
Upstairs.
This broken-down house basically had zero soundproofing.
Ian could hear the argunt downstairs crystal clear. The agitation in his chest began to spike rapidly!
A few monts later.
Suddenly.
Ian felt like a voice had turned on inside his brain, chanting over and over again: You can't stay here. You can't stay here. You have to leave. You have to get out now.
Listening to this voice, in a very strange way, Ian actually started to calm down. He rolled over, eyes wide open, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling.
Ian decided that this voice... must be the voice of God.
---
Basent of a random villa.
The sewer line had backed up. Everything that was supposed to be in the septic tank had surged upward.
The entire basent floor had turned into an ocean of sht and pss. Just looking at it was nauseating, let alone cleaning it up.
Fiona was currently cleaning it up.
The mixture of waste had ford a semi-solid sludge that looked like mud, reaching all the way up to Fiona's calves.
At this depth, moving around was treacherous. If you weren't careful, you could fall.
And falling in a place like this...
Heh.
Fiona's brow was furrowed tight, and she moved with extre caution.
However, sotis, no matter how careful you are, sht happens. Literally.
Fiona took a step, and her foot slipped.
Splat.
She went down, face-first, into the sewage.
Seeing this...
"Bwahahaha!" Her colleagues, who were also in the basent, burst into rciless laughter.
Outside the ventilation window at the top of the basent.
"Caw caw caw!" Little Crow couldn't hold back either, squawking in amusent.
Dex Restaurant.
Receiving the live feed from Little Crow, Dexter, who was prepping ingredients, almost spat out his drink. He was laughing his ass off.
Fiona Gallagher... she literally ate sht.
Life really is too fcking funny sotis.
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