warning: very long story.
I didn’t know Will could draw, I remember thinking as my friend’s hand quickly moved across the page. And then I looked more closely at Will’s impromptu sketch, and I immediately regretted it. I tried to unsee it. I shifted my attention to other things around me, anything at all that wasn’t ink on the page: the blur of Will’s hand, the beads of sweat gathering at his temples, the gentle autumn breeze creeping through the crack of the window.
Don’t look at the page. Just don’t look at it.
But I knew I had to. So I looked. And it was worse than I expected. Much worse.
Will had sketched a near carbon copy of those wartime Uncle Sam posters, except not quite. The suit was there. Bow tie, check. But no Uncle Sam head.
The Uncle Sam body had the head of a goat.
The animal flashed a welcoming, toothy smile. A hoof pointed at me, nearly coming right out of the page. But it didn’t want me to join the U.S. Army. No, this goat-headed creature had something else in mind:
I want your kids.
Under that declaration, in slightly smaller letters, it read: At Uncle Gerry’s Family Fun Zone! Opening soon!