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Chapter 95: Las Vegas
🕑 Added 2025-05-08 12:20:07 +0000 UTC"Hey, that makes four," I added with a smirk, shifting slightly in bed, still balancing the stack of papers Pepper had sent.
"You’re impossible," Pepper sighed on the other end.
"Are you sure you don't want to be interviewed by anyone? We're getting requests from every direction."
"Yeah," I replied, "too tiresome. If someone talks bad about it, just put them on a list. Let the future show the consequences..."
Pepper consented with a sigh. "Alright. Talk later, Jake."
"Bye, Pepper."
I sent a message to Anthony: keep increasing the short position in Enron
This is my biggest bet for 2001, shorting Enron. I read the financials — that crap company is still the same fraud
I set the phone down and stretched before making my way to the kitchen. Charlie was already there, leaning against the counter with a coffee mug in hand.
"Morning," he said.
"Morning," I replied, taking a seat at the table and grabbing some breakfast.
A few minutes later, Alan walked in, already dressed in slacks and a button-up shirt. "Morning," he said, sounding far more awake than usual.
"Morning," Charlie and I replied in unison.
Charlie took another sip of his coffee, then looked over at Alan. "So how'd it go at the doctor yesterday?"
Alan pulled out a chair and sat down. "Sit down," he said, sounding unusually serious. "I have to tell you something."
"What?" Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow.
"The doctor wants me to have a procedure," Alan said carefully.
"What kind of procedure?"
"He says I’m fine... and it's routine, but I'm really freaked out about it."
"What procedure?" Charlie asked.
"A colonoscopy," Alan muttered.
"Oh, Jesus, why does everyone keep bringing this kind of thing up at breakfast?" I said, wincing, and pushed my plate away, suddenly not hungry anymore.
"Oh, jeez, Alan, that's no big deal," Charlie said, waving it off. "They're just gonna shove a camera up your ass."
"Okay, in all future references to this procedure," Alan said quickly, "can we please use the word 'glide' or 'slide' as opposed to 'shove'?"
"Don't sweat it. Every guy eventually has to get one of those," Charlie continued. "It's strictly a fact-finding mission."
"You've had one?" Alan asked.
"No, you crazy?" Charlie scoffed.
"There's nothing to worry about it, Dad," I added. "It's a tiny little camera in your ass."
Alan glared at both me and Charlie. "Thank you both," he said, completely unamused.
Minutes later
"Damn it," Berta's voice rang out.
"What?" Charlie asked.
"The sink's stopped up again," she said, clearly irritated.
She glared at Charlie and said, "Can you at least pick a woman who knows the difference between the garbage and the drain?"
He muttered under his breath, "No wonder she doesn't care which hole..."
"Charlie!" Alan said, his tone full of disapproval.
"It is more important for us to know which hole is which, or we are headed for trouble," I added, raising my eyebrows.
"Jake!" Alan now turned to me, exasperated.
"What, Dad? I'm talking about the garbage and the drain," I said innocently.
Charlie opened his mouth to speak again. "About the colonoscopy—"
But he was cut off by Berta shouting as she struggled with a plumber’s snake. "Come on! Get in there, you sucker!"
Charlie shook his head and turned to Alan. "You need to get your mind off this colonoscopy."
"Easy for you to say," Alan muttered.
Berta, still straining with the plumber’s snake, grunted, "It just won't go in."
Trying to shift the conversation, I said, "Oh, Monica and the rest are getting to Vegas today."
I turned to Charlie with a grin. "Let's go to Vegas."
"Good idea," Charlie said immediately.
"No!" Alan snapped. "We are not going to Vegas."
"Come on, it's the perfect solution," Charlie chimed in. "Jake wants to go, and you're all puckered up over this colonoscopy thing."
"Besides, we can let Jake stay with them, and go, you know..." Charlie added with a mischievous grin.
"Thank you, Uncle Charlie," I said drily. "Fortunately, I found myself more responsible uncles and aunts."
Well, more than Uncle Charlie at least
"I don't know," Alan said, conflicted.
Berta's voice rang out again as she continued wrestling with the plumber's snake. "Perfect, now I can't get it out."
Alan sighed. "You know what? Why not?"
---
At night.
Charlie pulled out his phone and started dialing. "Okay, we're gonna need three rooms. One for Alan Harper, one for Jake Harper... and one for Charlie Harper and a cocktail waitress to be named later."
"No, I don't want connecting rooms. Weren't you listening? In fact, put mine on a different floor."
"Put mine on a different one too," I added.
I glanced at the clock. "It's 11 p.m. We're late—we're going to get there in the middle of the night."
"That's because you had lessons," Charlie said.
I gave him a deadpan look. "That was until 6 p.m. You napped until now."
"Well, I’ll drive," Charlie replied defensively.
"Anyway, why's your dad taking so long?" Charlie asked, glancing around.
I shrugged. Charlie went to check. A few minutes later, he returned, and while we waited, we ended up playing a few hands of blackjack.
Eventually, Alan appeared, and I stared at him, stunned. "What the hell are you wearing, Dad?"
Alan stood there, proudly sporting an old-fashioned disco outfit—shiny, loud, and very much from another era.
"Viva Las Vegas," Alan declared with enthusiasm.
"Oh, Alan," Charlie muttered, rubbing his temples.
"What?" Alan asked.
"We're going in a Mercedes, not a time machine," Charlie replied, exasperated.
"Should I change?" Alan offered.
"You should, but after all these years, I doubt you will," Charlie said with a sigh.
I leaned closer to Charlie and murmured, "Thank God I’ll stay with them. You take care of Dad."
---
Charlie was behind the wheel, focused on the road, while Alan sat in the passenger seat beside him. They chatted sporadically as the dark highway unrolled in front of us, headlights slicing through the night.
I was in the backseat, finally dozing off, when my phone buzzed against my thigh. I groaned, half-asleep.
"2 a.m.? Who the hell calls at this hour?" I murmured, blinking at the screen.
It was Aunt Rachel.
I swiped to answer. "Rach?"
Her voice came through, unmistakably drunk. "Jakey, I'm getting maaaarried!"
In the background, I heard a loud "Woohoo!"—clearly Ross.
"What???" I said, now fully awake, sitting upright
