[Salone]

Alright, so. Let me tell you about the time I had to slather my naked grandfather in vegetable oil.

I'm 14. At my house, which is next to my grandparents' house. I'm enjoying myself, late at night, talking to a girl when I get a call from my grandmother. "Salone" she says, "Your grandfather's drunk and fell in to the bathtub and can't get up!"

Oh boy.

So I let the girl know, I stroll up there and prepare to help him right himself. What she failed to tell me was that in between him getting drunk and falling in to the bathtub, he also became naked.

Completely naked.

So here I am, 14, spindly as fuck, attempting to maneuver a 300+ pound drunk old guy out of a very small bathtub. What's worse is that his fat has somehow suctioned itself to the bathtub, and I cannot lift him up.

This is where paying attention in history class helps, folks.

My grandfather's last name was Taft. He used to tell me that he was related to President Taft, who also happened to be the fattest president of all time. There are (unproven) stories of him becoming stuck in a tub and needing to be unstuck with buttermilk.

I did not have buttermilk, but I did have vegetable oil. Several bottles of vegetable oil. So...I began lubing up my drunken grandfather with vegetable oil, in an attempt to make him slick enough to unstick him and pull him out.

It works, although now he is so lubed that he can't be properly held on to. He begins slowly turning back and forth as he attempts to wallow. Locking arms with him, I manage to eventually haul part of him over the side of the tub.

This effort is not made easier by my grandmother, who is drunk and perched on top of the toilet seat with her chest to her knees, clutching a glass of wine like some sort of drunken hagraven from Skyrim. Just...laughing her ass off. Also one of the dogs, a mixed Whippet Dachshund Chihuahua mix mutt is barking constantly at all the shenanigans.

I finally get enough of him over the side for gravity to take over, and he slides over the side and his body curls up around the toilet. And he passes out.

I can't leave him there (doubt my grandmother could have crawled over him), so I spend time waking him up. We move him slowly in to a position to where he can stand, and I desperately attempt to keep my distance as I help him upward. I am seeing old and (now grossly lubed) man meat swaying about, and I am screaming to keep my distance. I help him hobble to his room, all the while being trailed by little Taco the barking dog.

After about 20 minutes, we make it the 30 feet in to his bedroom. He's standing in front of the bed. Taco is upon it, barking at him.

Grandpa has had enough shit. He passes out standing up. For a brief moment, he is balanced.

Then he begins to list.

It's slow. Too slow for Taco to notice. Gravity takes over once again and over 300 pounds of old man flesh begins to descend too quickly towards the little dog. His body lands on top of the dog. And it probably would have killed Taco, except for, well...

Except for the fact that he was covered in vegetable oil.

The perfect mix of force from the fall and lubricant launch the dog out from under him as the little dog yelps and goes flying over the side of the bed.

And that is the time I had to perform an action that belongs in a Cards Against Humanity expansion.