I've Had Enough

This is ridiculous, Michael thought.  He could feel his twin’s back through the heavy, black jacket his father made him wear.

“Dad’s gone too far this time, Patrick.”

“Tell me about it, Bro,” Patrick said over his shoulder.  “If Lisa walks by and sees me like this I’ll just die.  This stupid wig itches, man.”

“Yeah, well at least yours doesn’t look like a Viking helmet.  Hey, Dad, these old guns don‘t even work.  What are we doing here?  I gotta get ready for school.”

Cecil Davison was fed up with his teenage sons’ constant fighting.  Yesterday afternoon, brawling through the living room as they battled for the remote, they had broken the family’s brand new color TV. Without saying a word, he snatched his car keys off the counter and stormed out of the house.

A few hours later, Cecil had returned with a large box labeled, Charlie’s Costumes and Props. He had also been to the high school to have a chat with his old friend Principal Johnson. “What’s in the box, Dad?” the twins asked simultaneously.

“I asked first, you nitwit,” Michael yelled as round two began.

Cecil calmly began his instructions.  “You two seem determined to kill each other; so, at dawn tomorrow you will get your chance.”  Michael and Patrick rolled their eyes at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and went off to bed.

At dawn, Cecil woke his sons and told them to put on the costumes and meet him in the backyard.  From the sound of his voice, their father was not joking, and the twins obeyed.

Now they found themselves, back to back, in these stupid outfits. Their father had a strange look of amusement on his face.  “Well, get on with it.  I’ve explained the rules: ten paces, turn and fire, duel to the death.  Oh, wait.  Duel-etiquette demands that witnesses be present.”

Cecil walked over and opened the backyard gate.  “Come on in guys.  The show is about to start.  Just put your admission fee in the box here and gather around.”

Michael and Patrick gasped in horror as they watched the entire high school student body enter the backyard.  They began to hear the sound of cameras clicking.

“Dad!!!  Jesus, Dad, how could you do this?”  The twins faces turned a bright red.

“This ought to pay for a new TV, don’t ya think, boys.”