A Modern Fairy Tale—The Three Big Farley Sisters


Do you remember those Farley sisters? I think you were in the same class as Muffin, that’s the oldest one. Well you know that Muffin sold her dad’s house. She lived with her parents after she was fired from her last job—you know the one where she punched one of their customers. Yeh, that was about twenty years ago, just before her mom died. Anyway, it took almost twenty years for her old man to go after her mom’s accident. As soon as she sold their house, Trixie, you know, the one married to Ron, she left him with those overgrown spoilt brats and walked away with their savings. I think Ron said they had about ten grand. She told him he could keep the house and the kids, permanently. Then Candy, yeh, the one you dated in High School, called the police and had Luther thrown out of her trailer after another drunken brawl. She got rid of the trash, cleaned it out, hired Joe’s pickup truck and they hauled away over two loads of stuff. Do you know that she was able to get five hundred bucks for her old Volkswagen Bus—that piece of shit with all those psychedelic peace signs painted on it. Can’t believe she got six grand for the trailer. It needed a whole new septic system and stinks like crazy in the spring.

Those crazy sisters pooled their money and bought one of those big brick modern houses in the new subdivision on the outskirts of town. You know that subdivision that was going to dig the artificial lake with all the fountains in the middle of the development—you know the one across from all the fast food outlets and the discount stores? Small down payment, no credit check and the house is yours. New type of mortgage I think they called it a subprime or something like that. They heard about it at ‘Big Momma’s All You Can Eat for $5.95’ where they used to hold their twice a week sisters’ bitching session. I think Marvin and his wife bought some big monster four bedroom, five bathroom the same way over at Sayward’s—you know just past Danny’s creek. Mortgage rates were nothing. A couple of grand down, you signed the paper and it’s yours. Some crazy scheme the government came up with so everyone could own a monster house and feel good about being a proud American homeowner. You know so they could get more votes and stuff like that. Those three sisters found work at the new Walmart’s just down the Highway past the Esso Station off of Corston Road, Of course Walmart was desperate to get some white trash in there who could read and talk English. Who else would hire those three broads. Not only that, they were able to buy all new furniture on credit because they worked there. It’s just junk, you know made in China. After six months it all falls apart.

No, no, let me finish the story, I don’t want to hear what you and Candy did that night we all got hammered in grade 10.

So anyway they buy this monster house together and were able to pay the mortgage with their stupid Walmart jobs. Then the shit hits the fan. Remember when those thieving subprime guys sold the paper on all those houses and now the mortgage rates were criminal and people were just walking away. Easier to pack your bags and call it a day. Who needs the hassle of the bank after you, the bailiff coming and taking away all your stuff and then of course Sheriff Gordon from down Latimer Road having to come and throw you out. You know what—those crazy sisters decided to stay.

“Hey Misty—bring another round will you sweetheart. We’re getting a bit dry here again”.

Any way let me get back to my story. So those three sisters had an operation going in their big empty basement. You know those basements have high ceilings where you can put in what we used to call Rec rooms. I think they now call them Media Rooms, like having your own movie theatre in your house. So anyway they smuggle in all this equipment and all these lights and with all those new hybrid seeds you can get through the internet now, they’re in business in three months. They must be doing OK as they still have that cheap made in China furniture and Sheriff Gordon hasn’t posted any eviction notice on their door—yet—so I guess they’re paying their bills. No one was saying much because their grass was real sweet, not that armchair stuff coming out of Canada. No this was sweet mellow junk. You can’t go to their house to buy the shit. You see one of the sisters’ kept her job at Walmart and you go in and pretend you want something in her department; I think she’s in household goods or whatever. So you go in to buy a broom or a sink plug or whatever and look for her, yeh, she’s the one with the blonde afro and those crazy big tits, you can’t miss her. She had her teeth done and she looks like she’s glued bloody Chiclets to her old teeth. OK, OK, her smile will dazzle you; actually knock you on your ass. She could light up the whole bloody grow operation on her own. She could just sit there and smile all day and grow great weed. I’m going off track. Let me finish here. Should we order some fries? They’re not bad here. They do that crazy French Canadian thing, you know that Poutine, that crap with all the gravy and the cheese melted, yeh, that heart attack on a plate, that’s the one. Should we order a couple?

“Hey Misty! How about a couple orders of that French stuff, that Poutine. Make sure it’s hot Misty. You’re a doll. You know it’s like eating glue if it’s not hot. And another round for my friends here. I love you too Misty”.

Where was I? OK, so the operation is now out of Walmart, they just grow the stuff in their big Subprime basement. Most of the neighbours are gone, houses are empty. No one smells the stuff—so far. Apparently they have this fancy damn extraction system, they went full hog, I think the middle one, the one that lived with Luther, what’s her name? Yeh, Candy, that’s the one. I think she’s the brains behind all this. You know she once took a course at the local college as a bookkeeper, yeh her, Candy, apparently she’s pretty good with the numbers, someone told me she even invested a bit on the stock market and made a few bucks, yeh one of the rare ones that didn’t lose their bloody shirt with those thieving bastards. Yeh I saw her, actually all three were at Harvey’s having a night out. You should have seen them man. Those sisters are something else. Remember that old saying, “built like a tractor, strong as a bull”—well they’re still massive but now they dress like Marilyn Monroe in drag, like about two hundred pounds more of Marilyn. And she was a pretty curvy woman in those days. Good old Marilyn. She sure could do that pout thing and make you hard. These sisters were dressed to kill. The one with the gimp, yeh the oldest, yeh Muffin, the one that lived with her parents until they died—yeh that one, she has this cane thing that she now uses, tries to make herself look like she’s some classy lady, but with that backside that you can lose a bloody kid in between that crack you see when she wears those turquoise shiny pants of hers, now that’s something else. Ok, Ok, back to the story. You want something? How about a couple of hamburgers, more fries?

“I guess were Ok for now. Thanks Misty. Have I told you you’re a real doll Misty. You’re going to make some lucky guy awfully happy.”

Where was I? Ok. Anyway, it looks like they were really cleaning up with their little operation. I think they were in business for a good eighteen months. You know when Candy threw Luther out he went and lived at the brothers club house, the one behind old man Bailey’s barn. They have this thing where if you need a place they let you hang out and then you got to do something for them. Well the brothers, the Angels, the ones that came up from Detroit told him that his ex was cutting into their business and he needed to do something about it. So Luther gets his leathers on, gets a few of those bruisers who work at Marty’s Bar as bouncers, remember that weird one, that pervert who almost killed that old guy, those guys, well they get all their Angel gear, even their bloody flags out and ride up on their hogs to the Farley sisters’ house. You could hear them revving the damn things and doing donuts on what was supposed to be a lawn. They do all this threatening thing, Luther bringing the muscle guys and wearing all their shit thinking they could scare them off.

Oh Christ, I promised Daisy I’d pick up the kids. Gotta go guys.

No,no—all the sisters were home when Luther and his retards showed up. The girls just opened the front door and blasted them with their shotguns. What a mess. Who’s going to call in the cops? A real turf war. Sorry guys, I really got to go.

“Misty, Misty. Can you put it on my tab? I’ll leave you a big fat tip. Gotta pick up my kids. I’ll come back after I drop them off at my mom’s. Love you too Misty. Thanks. Has anyone told you you’re a real doll.”

Yeh Tommy I heard. No one has seen the sisters since. I hear they have some sort of Villa somewhere in Mexico. Hope they’re not crazy enough to try to take on those Mexican Drug Lords. Yeh, I know, place is all boarded up but who cares. Those monster houses will never sell. No one has seen Luther either. Those Angels sure don’t like to be crossed.

See you next week. Your turn to buy Tommy.

Sandra Bradley