The Fluffy Movie: Unity Through Laughter Page #10

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push it down, you push it up,

push it down, you push it up.

Give it oxygen!

And if you were lucky,

if you were lucky,

you'd hear the magical sound.

"It's alive! It's alive!"

You were more happy about

making your game work

than actually playing

it back in the day.

Frankie will never know about having

to repair his game system

in order to play it.

He'll never have to deal

with the cartridge.

He barely has to touch the disk.

Most of the games now,

you stream it through Wi-Fi.

And if the Wi-Fi's messing up,

you're not going to fix

Wi-Fi the same way

you'd fix an old-school

Nintendo cartridge.

That doesn't work.

"Wi-Fi's out." "Hold on.

"Try it again."

You can't touch Wi-Fi.

Gadgets and devices now are

so delicate and sensitive.

You can't touch anything.

Everything requires a specialist

or a technician to

come over and fix it.

Back in the day,

gadgets and appliances

worked so much better

when you applied

just a little violence to them.

You didn't have to

call a repairperson.

If you had a big-screen TV

and there was lines

going through the middle,

how would you fix it?

Right? And what happened?

Ta-da!

Let you try that method tonight

on a flat-screen,

and see what happens.

"Stupid flat-screen. Sh*t! Broke it!

"Pick it up right there.

I got a warranty. Come on. Let's go."

I tell Frankie, "You are so lucky.

"You're in an age of

technology that's amazing.

"You don't have to worry."

I want him to get it.

I want him to understand.

I want him to appreciate,

but at the same time, I got to

learn to freaking check myself.

Sometimes he says things.

Sometimes he says things to me,

and sometimes they sound

a little rude or hurtful.

For example, every Monday,

when I go home,

every Monday night, I go home,

and I always take my family out.

It's always movie night.

I love movie night on Mondays.

There's no lines. You go in,

you go out, good parking. It's sweet.

And I always tell Frankie before

we go out, "Hey, one hour.

"We're leaving, okay, one hour.

"Make sure you're ready, okay?"

"Okay." "Good."

And then I go in the room,

and I take a nap,

and sometimes I oversleep,

and so, an hour and a half later,

Frankie comes over to the room.

He pounds on the door. Door...

And I wake up. I'm like,

"Hey, what's up, Frankie?"

"I thought you said we

were leaving in an hour.

"What happened to an hour?"

I don't get mad. I don't yell.

I just look at him, and I say,

"Please forgive me, sir.

I do apologize.

"As soon as I am done

washing the horses,

"I shall take the carriage

to your quarters, sir."

"Why are you talking

to me like that?"

"I am speaking to you this way,

"because you're speaking to

me like I'm an a**hole, sir,

"and I shall not

tolerate such behavior

"coming from my offspring

that is technically not mine.

"Do you have anything else, sir?"

"Can my friends go with

us to the movies?"

"Oh, the vultures are here.

"Oh, they are here to pick

at the fruit of my labor.

"Absolutely, Frankie.

Is there anything else?"

"What are you going to do?"

"I am going in the room, sir."

"To do what?"

"I'm going to defile

your mother, Frankie.

"She's been quite chatty,

and someone must put her in her place."

I stumbled on gold that night.

I stumbled on gold, you guys.

When I said that about his mom,

I found out

that Frankie is very

sensitive about his mom.

And he's at the age right now where

affection really bothers him.

Not necessarily from me, because

if I try to hug him, he's cool with it,

'cause I give those quick

bro hugs, you know, like,

"Hey. Hey, what's up?" You know?

However, if his mom is

standing right next to me

and I reach over and I grab her hand,

he sees that as gross,

and he'll make the face.

"Ugh!"

"What?"

"Ah."

"The hand?"

"That's gross, Dad."

I'm like, "Oh, that's not gross,

Frankie. That's not gross,

"Baby, open your mouth."

That's his weak spot, and I

go for it every single time.

One day, I was ironing

one of my shirts

that I was going to put on, right?

I'm ironing the shirt, and I'm

talking to him about his grades.

As I'm talking to him

about his grades,

there's a car driving

in front of the house,

and the stereo was really loud,

and you could feel the bass.

So I started dancing. "Oh, yeah."

Frankie starts laughing, right?

And that felt good.

I was making my son laugh.

But then he starts pointing.

He starts pointing.

"Why are you pointing?"

"'Cause you're fat,

your fat's going everywhere.

"Your fat's going everywhere."

I go, "Really? My fat's going

everywhere? Well, guess what?

"This fat makes your mom horny."

And he's like...

If I ask him to do something,

and he doesn't do it,

like, for example, as parents,

you want your kids to go

to sleep by a certain time,

because you need 'em to wake up

in time to get ready for school.

Frankie's cutoff is 11:00.

It's pretty late,

if you ask me, for a kid.

Sometimes he'll push it to midnight,

you know, play dumb.

"Oh, I didn't know what time it was."

"Yeah, whatever.

You're only holding a clock."

But I get it. I used

to play dumb, too.

So then he'll walk in his room,

and he'll say...

"Good night, Dad,"

and he'll close the door.

And he thinks he's slick.

He takes a towel, and he

starts rolling up the towel,

and he puts it under the door,

so that I can't see the

light coming from the TV.

Sounds pretty genius, right?

But, hello, cover the

rest of the stupid door.

He freaking turns on his big-ass TV,

and it looks like Immigration's

breaking in to his bedroom.

And so what happens is he'll stay up

until 2:
00, 3:00,

4:
00 in the morning,

and he, you know,

he's supposed to wake up at 6:00.

His alarm goes off, and he

sleeps through the alarm,

and it's a real alarm-alarm.

It's not a radio. It's freaking...

Whole house awake. Him?

And it's right here.

So I got to get out of bed,

and I go over to his room,

and I open the door, and I kick

the stupid towel out of the way,

and then I walk over, you know.

And I yell, "Frankie! Frankie!"

Nothing, so I shake him.

"Frankie, wake up."

You know what happens when

I shake my son in the morning?

It makes him eat in his sleep.

That's what happens.

I shake him, and he does this.

So you know what I do?

I get on top of the bed,

and I slowly lay on top of him,

and I apply my full weight,

bro, all of it,

slowly, and you could hear him.

"Oh, God! Oh, God!

You're too big! You're too big!"

And then I whisper in his ear,

"That's what your mom said."

I know one day, my son is going to write

a book called Fluffy's Full of Sh*t.

It's kind of crazy.

I talked to his mom.

I talked to Frankie's mom,

and she tells me, "Listen."

She goes, "I'm going to tell

you something. Don't get mad.

"The reason why you and Frankie

are always butting heads

"is because you guys are

basically the same person."

And I go, "We are not

the same person."

She goes,

"Your mannerisms are the same.

"The way you guys think is the same.

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