Congratulations on Losing That Fucking Farm!

When the creditors ride up you’ll be holding your hat in your hands, grinning.  It’ll be tough to keep from dancing you’ll be so god damn excited.  When they open their car doors and step out on to the walkway, dour looks fixed upon their faces, you won’t be able to contain yourself.  You’ll break and run down the drive, smashing into the lead creditor with a big old bear hug.

At first he’ll push you away, thinking you’re trying to tackle him, but as he hears your laughter and feels your erection pushing against his leg he’ll calm down, go limp and wait for the whole affair to end.

When you finally back away you’ll be smiling, big and bright as you ever have.

“Tell me you have the paperwork,” you’ll squeal.  They’ll nod solemnly.

“This isn’t an easy day so we understand if you-“

By the time he’s even halfway through his sentence you’ll have all the papers signed and you’ll be running down the road to where you parked your Mazda Miayata, out past the gravel.  You’ll laugh throughout the entire run, and once you get into your car you’ll start it up with one deft key turn, lean out the window and shout:

“SUCK IT NERDS!”

Then you’ll peel out into the road, chuckling to yourself, thinking about the dumbass state trying to find a use for all that fucking farm land out there.  You’ll think about your fuckface dad, who made you take over the family farm and your bitchy mom who died and left you alone to deal with daily farm upkeep and management issues.  You’ll grimace and flip the bird at the corn fields as you drive away from them, pausing only to insert your favorite Queen tape into your aging tape deck and crank the volume.

You’ll set a course for Seattle, where you hope to find a job “temping or some bullshit,” as you put it.  It’ll be the start of a whole new chapter in your life.

Congratulations on Losing That Fucking Farm!