Brian Stewie Griffin Novels & Stories

Dаmn аm I glаd I did. Thеrе'ѕ оnе tіnу dеtаіl, insignificant tо mе аt thе time, that I hаvеn't mentioned уеt. Brian is nоt аn оnlу сhіld. Hе hаѕ a уоungеr ѕіѕtеr, 6 уеаrѕ younger іn fасt. Mаrу. Whаt аn оbnоxіоuѕ twerp. She was аlwауѕ hаngіng around us аnd gеttіng іn оur way. Shе'ѕ thе оnе whо саught us with the beer іn thе garage thе fіrѕt tіmе and also caught us the оnе tіmе wе tried weed. If we were hаvіng fun, ѕhе ԛuісklу ѕhоwеd uр to ruіn іt. I thіnk I hаtеd hеr аt tіmеѕ. I knеw Brian hated hеr аll thе time. Shе was tаll аnd gаnglу, аll knees аnd elbows аnd high, whіnіng voice. Ugghhhh.

Growing up as twins and the expectations for them to work together, no matter how different they were, caused them a lot of hardship until they created their own terms. Brian was a hunter and provider type of person. Chris now he preferred to be the fixer and the commander. But right now they had problems coming out of their ears, and people needed to know how they’d fix all of it.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were Malcolm O’Neil’s son.” “You’re Malcolm O’Neil’s son?” the waitress asked. “Winged Faith’s lead guitarist?” “Don’t be ridiculous,” Brian said. “You do sort of look like him, if you had huge sideburns and a chubbier face,” the waitress said. “I saw them at Woodstock. That was right before they made it big. Do you play guitar, too, doll? You have that rock star look about you.” “A little,” Brian admitted. He hoped she didn’t make a scene. He’d been enjoying his obscurity, even if he had been the object of curious stares.

I begin the question but pause when it hits me harder. Matthew my other best friend, a guy with a business mind and husband material, who worked for 'The Stewart's and Co', the avaricious corporation that has currently taken over my company, challenged me once when I invited him to our success celebration, that our company would be the next to be taken over by his and the employees here would go for fishing with their butt out, including me. A surge of tiny anger started burning in the pit of my stomach. " My foot, if you find him," I warn."Tell him that I will pour cement in his mouth till he chokes".

Lisa stepped forward, leading the way for me. Brian's hospital room is a block away from mine; he is cared for in a particular room with a doctor on duty 24/7. I couldn't go inside; I could only watch from outside the glass. Brian was topless, his lower body covered by a blanket. His body was pinned with zigzag ropes, infusing all kinds of water into his body. The external wounds are healed, but the brain is strongly concussion leading to a deep coma, at risk of being unable to wake up.