Red: Red sighs very deeply. “Ugh, don’t even get me started on her,” says red, before changing the subject.

New client intake. Louis P. is a Caucasian male of undisclosed age. Well dressed. No reported health problems, but physical condition appears poor. Face, gaunt. Gaze, dull. Skin, pale, like marble. Eyes, red, hyper-dilated. Client reports being unhappy about his current lifestyle. Practices “vile and morally repugnant” behaviors which cause him to “sleep all day and stalk the lonely streets all night, haunted by an insatiable thirst.”

Here at Spring House we provide a supportive environment for up to thirty spoiled rotten teens, with the youngest age 16 and the oldest 19, who are not yet so lazy as to require hospitalization or life support. Experiencing the emotional and physical upheavals of youth along with the cognitive and bodily failings of advanced age, or claiming they do, these teens suffer the worst of both worlds. They need help with bathing, dressing, homework, applying for jobs, getting out of bed at some point and saying a kind word. That is where we at Spring House step in.

On October 16, 2014, at approximately 0845 hrs, my children: Michael and Chloe Vargas, caucasian juveniles; and wife: Luisa Marquez-Vargas, caucasian female, age withheld, arrived at the Disneyland Theme Park in Anaheim, CA. Upon entering the park, I diverted from our lane of travel to enter the Jolly Holiday Refreshment Corner with the objective of obtaining a bottle of water. I secured the water bottle in exchange for six dollars. I stated to the purveyor that six dollars seemed “a small price to pay for a basic human necessity.” The purveyor did not appear to detect the playful satirical tone of my comment.

Ellie? Ellie! How did this get in here? Well, I’m sure the Wade Whimsies just came alive in the middle of the night and dispersed themselves throughout the shag carpet. Is that what I’m supposed to believe? That the genuine porcelain miniatures are following me around and burying themselves in my rug? That you weren’t carrying them around in your weird over-sized pouch-pocket doing god knows what while I was down at the halal cart?