I often wonder if his dad is like ‘I wonder what my douchey son is up too…’
—

Casedad calmly walks to the back of the trailerhouse, hand shakingly reaching out and grabbing the plastic doorknob. He twists it slowly as to not make sound and pushes it open just a crack. Just enough for one eye to see in there. He isn’t surprised by what he finds.

“Dear Lord… he’s doing it again” Casedad thought.

Across the room, Casemods is setting up his tripod (which he got for 27 dollars at Kohls, which is a deal apparently). He adjusts the light and leans over, picking up a plastic gun that he wasted his money on. He slides cheep sunglasses over his eyes and pushes the timer on the camera.

Suddenly, Casedad hears a small whimper. Curious, he pushes the door open more as to see its source.

His eyes scan the room and stop on a dog which is tied to the frame of an ugly green mini chopper. The Blue Heeler slowly raises his head, looking up to the new visitor. Casedad meets his pleading eyes. They share a moment. The dog cannot speak human, but those eyes…they explain the whole situation: God help me. Get me away from this self loving mouth breather! If I have to sit through one more set of pictures I’m going to use this leash to hang myself!

Casedad knows he needs to do something. Hes going to untie the dog and open the door, let it run out into the street and flee this horrid place. Yeah, that’s what he’s going to do!

But then, the Marijuana has set in, and Casedad doesn’t give a fuck anymore. Not caring about noise, he shuts the door and walks down the hall. Leaving behind him the sound of a camera shutter and the clicks of a fake plastic gun.