Franky

Names changed to protect the guilty and innocent alike.

I tell this series of incidents for two reasons: like with everything else I put on this blog I have a feeling I should, and because I think it a good instruction on human nature in general, from the incidents themselves to the fact that I still chuckle about these things, more than ten years later. I’ve never once claimed to be a good person and I’m certainly not about to start now. The last caveat is this a selection of the misdeeds of Franky, who was easily the least likeable person I’ve run acrost. He wasn’t the most evil… but understand that I am heavily editing the most irritating person I’ve ever met, and am deliberately underselling just how noxious this dude was.

I first met Franky in my household’s common room. I disliked him on sight more than I usually disliked people at that age… which is saying something. I was startled. I have a high degree of passive hatred for each and every living thing that God slowly has slowly purged from my being: to dislike someone personally was unexpected. I couldn’t put my finger on it though. I just had a feeling, a presentiment. Knowing such feelings could be nonsense I pushed it down.

That feeling? It was right.

You see, Franky decided he liked our household, specifically because of all the video game equipment. So he stayed. In the common room. He didn’t eat much, which was odd because of his bulk. If he slept we didn’t know of it, and I went to bed at 4 am on an early night. And he didn’t shower. 

Franky was not blessed with good body odor.

We had to ban him from our common room, because it turned out his stink didn’t clean out easily. No seriously, that’s a thing.

That said nothing about his personality. Franky was that peculiar blend of hopelessly arrogant and stupid; more than once my jaw would drop in shock at the absolute garbage that came out of his mouth. Everyone else tried to be polite. I did not see a point in such polite cruelty. I’d call him a fool, what he said idiocy, and ask how many times his mother dropped him on his head when he was a child, because nobody could be this stupid naturally.

And then one day it reached my ears he had told my girlfriend to, and I quote, to “Shut the fuck up and get back in the kitchen “. My girlfriend took one look at my face and begged me not to do anything. 

I was already out the door.

I found him in our common room with our household leader, who I respected a great deal. I told him to leave. Anyone who said such things to ladies deserved to have their ribs broken, if not worse.  I was so angry my vision was starting to cloud over crimson. My friend told me calmly he would not leave. I had to control myself and that was all there to it. Franky was utterly terrified and hadn’t spoken since I came in breathing murder.

“Did you tell Angela to shut the fuck up and get in the kitchen because she was disagreeing with you over something? And her friend Crystal?”

“I don’t remember?” I took a step toward him and grabbed something. I don’t remember what. Felt nice and heavy though.

My friend got up and put himself between me and Franky. “Nathan, DON'T. Please. I’m asking you not to do this.”

I shot him a look and turned to Franky again. Whatever was in my hand landed on the ground. “You don’t remember? You either did it or you didn’t.”

He cowered. “It sounds like something I’d say.”

I gestured at my friend. He has always been a better man than I’ll ever be. “He’s here. So I won’t do what I’d dearly like to. But I ever hear you doing that to anyone, ever again, I’ll break those stupid glasses and shove them down your throat. Men as stupid and vile as you rob us of oxygen!”

And I stormed out.

As I said, I’ve never once claimed to be a good man.

Franky found a new group of people to annoy, and my life became remarkably more pleasant. And then one day he decided he liked my brother-in-law Marty. I love Marty like you wouldn’t believe… but Marty suffered fools less than I did. Marty, however, has always burned cold where I burn hot. So he waited, like a spider waits for the fly. It was a bit menacing, honestly. I could tell Marty didn’t dislike Franky, he hated him. Franky had a way of sticking his foot on his mouth…. and then refusing to apologize, doubling down in ways you wouldn’t believe no matter the oath I took.

Marty waited.

One day I came into Marty’s room to find Franky in tears. He was sobbing uncontrollably. “NOBODY LIKES ME! You all hate me!”

Marty shrugged noncommittally. “We’ll, you’ve not exactly made it easy to like you.” 

“But I’m trying!!!”

That was a mistake. 

“Are you?” asked Marty, perfectly level. And, right before my eyes, Marty broke down every character flaw Franky had and how to fix it. He talked awhile.

“But I can’t do any of that!” wailed Franky. “I’m too pathetic for that!”

“Your words, not mine,” said Marty with a shrug.

And that carried on for weeks, with various people. He tried it with me and I told him I’d seen the act enough, thank you. Many people had tried to give good advice, and it had all been rejected. I wasn’t going to play along.

When he tried to wheedle something out of me anyways I got up to break his legs, breathing threats of an agonizing time in the hospital if he didn’t leave immediately.

Franky left in a hurry.

Towards the end of the year we had a huge Smash Bros tournament. Marty is a genius at Smash. He easily climbed into the semifinals, where he came face to face with another player who was almost as skilled but much luckier, Brandon. Five lives, medium items, Final Destination was the stage.

It was a twenty minute match.

I’ve never seen someone sweat buckets at a video game before. Both of them did. But Marty won by the skin of his teeth.

It was the best Smash Bros match I’ve seen in my life. Marty went on to win the tournament.

As we left, Franky ran up to Brandon. “Hahahahha you choked! Marty’s been your bitch for months but when it mattered? YOU CHOKED!!!”

I sighed. “Franky, shut the fuck up. Brandon lost well. I wish I could lose like he did. Please shut up or I’ll hurt you.”

Franky skipped away laughing. “You won’t touch me! You’re too nice! You choked too!”

I was holding the Wii. I handed it to Marty with a “Hold this please.”

And I charged. Silently. After the fat skipping Franky.

He turned around to find my fist whistling toward his glasses. He turned pale, comically so.

My fist stopped an eighth of an inch from his face. 

He whimpered. 

“You’re right, I’m a good person. This is me showing mercy. I want you to take your fat ass up into your room. I don’t want to hear you, see you, or smell you for the rest of the evening. Given how you perpetually smell like ass I suggest a shower. Now get moving before I decide you shouldn't walk.”

“Y-yes sir.”

“DID I TELL YOU YOU COULD SPEAK, YOU DUMB FUCK???” I screamed.

Franky ran like hell.

My household was not happy with me. I was called a bully, cruel, no better than a thug. That last accusation came from Matthias, who always took issue with my impatience with nonsense. I wasn’t sorry and I made sure they knew it.

A few weeks later Matthias came into my room. He started small talk. Matthias never did that. “What do you want?” I interrupted. “You clearly want something.”

Matthias turned red. “It’s… it’s Franky. He’s been in the common room three days. It stinks in there. He’s been picking fights.”

I didn’t even bother to take the high road. “And what do you want from me, oh gentle and good natured Matthias?” I asked with as much scorn as I could.

“I don’t care how you do it. Please get him out, At least so we can air the common room out.”

I grabbed my study stuff and opened the door to a wall of solid STINK. I wrinkled my nose. Franky didn’t even look up from Paper Mario. I sat down, trying to decide how I was going to get this human parasite out of my common room.

“Whatcha studying?” asked Franky.

“Oh, Logic. I’m not very good at it,” I admitted with a bit of a chuckle.

“Wait, what’s your major? What the hell are YOU doing taking logic?”

“Oh, um, philosophy.”

“You are NOT what I think of when I think of philosophy. Why are you taking that?”

“Oh, um, well, to be a priest.” My cheeks flushed a bit.

Franky laughed until he had to wipe his ugly pudgy face.

I turned beet red. “And what in the fuck is your problem?” I asked in a quiet voice.

“Nothing! Just… you’d either be the best priest ever or you’d just scare everyone shitless and they’d be good out of fear!” 

And the motherfucker kept laughing. 

And laughing.

There was not one bit of malice in his laugh. He couldn't stop.

He saved his game.

Got up.

And left.

He left the door open. The room started to smell better at once.

I just sat. I tried not to think about what just happened. I failed.

A few minutes later Matthias came in. “Holy shit that was fast! Where’s the body?”

“I… I didn’t touch him.”

He stared at me. “Uh huh. How many bruises you leave?”

“I promise you, I didn’t touch him!”

“Then what did you do???”

“I just talked with him. And he left. I told him I wanted to be a priest and he left.”

Matthias went and knocked on Franky’s door.

And Franky answered it, puzzled.