Uncle Samsonite X Mr Dad Novels & Stories

“I don’t know what that means.” She clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “Your dad told me Samson was a dick to you yesterday.” I sighed, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Yeah. He yelled at Curtis in front of the whole crew. Kid’s only twenty, been with us since he was sixteen. My dad basically raised him. Samson was out of line. And on top of that, he didn’t lift a damn finger to help during the storm.” “Yeah… that sounds like him,” she muttered, exhaling hard. Her voice was softer now. But there was still that tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers curled around the hem of her shirt like she needed to ground herself.

he exclaimed, his eyes widening. A sly smirk played on Samaria's lips as she slowly unzipped the suitcase, revealing the hidden contents inside. As she lifted the lid, a gleaming taser came into view, nestled carefully among soft padding. She picked it up confidently, feeling its weight in her hand. "Alright, start talking," she commanded, her voice brimming with authority. Uncle Martin's expression shifted from surprise to disbelief. "You can't be serious," he stammered, his voice filled with a mix of shock and apprehension.

Dad is also here. Oh, shit.

The resemblance was uncanny. “Hello, Aunt Elaine,” he squeaked adorably. Despite being slightly advanced, Samson was tall — a stunning six foot five just like Max, with silky black hair that had strands of white, thanks to his age, and a muscular physique. Though older, he still had the dazzling features intact that could make any woman throw down their panties for him.

Sammy Mom ~”Hi girls. Becca ~”Hi Moms and Dads.” Sammy ~”Hi parents and parents.” Sammy Dad ~”Sammy, Becca, please sit down.” Sammy ~”This sounds serious.” Becca ~”Is it about potato head is morning?” Becca Dad ~”Who is potato head?” Becca ~”Don’t ask!” I pour me and Sammy a generous glass of wine and stare at our Dads. Sammy Dad ~”Sammy I am not going to lie when I say that I am glad that...”

He laughed, a big guffaw-like laugh that echoed off the mountains. "Hello there, son. I see you brought some company with you." A tall, older-looking Elliott came toward them carrying a burlap sack. "Got some carrots in here for her, you better use 'em before she rips your clothes off, or worse yet, your skin. Had that happen afore." He hooted out loud, sounding similar to Elliott. "Hi Dad, this is Samantha Williams. Sam, this is my Dad, Jed." Elliott made the short introductions.

I try to fit in, but it’s hard when every part of me is screaming to get out of here. “Damon,” Mom calls, pulling my attention back to the present. She gestures at the man in the suit, with whom she has just started a conversation. “This is Mr. X, or so he says,” she says with a grin. They both do, as if this is some inside joke that only the two of them understand. “And Mr. X, this is my son, Damon. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”

I eyed those beavertails but I couldn't bring myself to try it out, all the laughter going around the table was steering me wackos, freaking annoying, why were they happy when I was gloomy. "Try this, Dr. Sean!" I watched as Dean filled Sean's plate with beavertails and poutine together, I felt my anger being spiked by the scene, especially when Sean took a bite and nodded his head in approval, I watched in annoyance as Dean chuckled like the love-struck puppy that he was. "So, what do you think of my son, Tristan?" Dad asked, knocking me out from wandering senses. Jessica glanced at me, glimmering. What the hell?! I lifted a glass of water to my lips.

"Don't emotionally blackmail me. I also helped you out during college years, and you can't use those excuses to get me involved in your stupid plans!" Their argument continued for a few more minutes until I began to see signs of defeat on Jacob's face. "Okay, okay, fine! I'm coming!" And he hung up the call. "What happened? Did Dad get to you again?" It was hard not to laugh when I looked at the expression on his face. "Samuel bought clothes for himself, and he wants me to check them first. Like, what the heck?! Are we five?" "Maybe," I laughed. "Now go, or else he'll show up in your room with all those shopping bags."