Andy Espresso's obese, oafish brother tentatively stepped into the long-term care wing of the decrepit nursing home. He shuddered as a Haitian health aide passed by, pushing a cart full of adult diapers. Then he saw the tag on the door, "Room 104 - Espresso". Taking a deep breath, he entered the shitty, dated room. There was his brother Andy, in bed, blankly staring at a "Moesha" rerun playing on the ancient CRT TV. He looked absolutely terrible, pale, withered and pitiful.
"Andy, it's me, your big brother! You remember me, right?"
"BUNG ROT! NIGGER! HAHAHAHOLEEEEEEEEEEEESHIT!" Andy incoherently babbled. "NIGGER! NIGGER! HAHA HO HEE!"
"Andy, come on, I know you remember me." his brother said. "Remember the spaghetti? Mom's shoes? Underage girls?"
"HAHA HOLEEEEEESHIT! NIGGER! I...AM FUCKING...MY BROTHER'S GIRLFRIEND'S DAUGHTER!" Andy jabbered.
"I know you are, Andy, I know you are. Surely you remember your radio show, right? Jimmy? Opie?".
"OPIE? THAT CUNT CAN'T EVEN LOOK AT ME! BUNG ROT CUNT! THEY AREN'T PEOPLE!" Andy screamed.
Just then a dark-skinned aide stepped into the room. "Sir? I'm afraid you're upsetting Mr. Espresso. I'm afraid we're going to have to sedate him again, he's disturbing the other patients."
"I understand" his lumbering brother mumbled. He reached into his pocket and retrieved an egg-shaped object made of some sort of latex. "This is his, I'll just leave it here on the table. Maybe (sob) it'll help him remember" sobbed the oaf, as a single tear rolled down his blank, bovine face. "I brought you your egg, Andy. I'll (sniff) see you again soon."
Andy looked at the egg and his yellowed eyes grew wide. "IT OPENS UP AND YOU FUCK IT LIKE A VAGINA!" he excitedly lisped.
"I know you do Andy, I know you do. I have to go, I have a gig at the Knights Of Columbus hall tonight." the overweight slob muttered. It was the last time he saw Andy Espresso alive.