Deesis (de’-e-sis): An adjuration (solemn oath) or calling to witness; or, the vehement expression of desire put in terms of “for someone’s sake” or “for God’s sake.”
Me: For God’s sake, if you don’t stop doing that, I’ll put you out of the car at the next rest stop. In the meantime, I’m putting down the windows to blow some of the stink out of here. “Zombie Flower.” I didn’t know “The Walking Dead” had an online gift shop. What the hell are they trying to do selling perfume that smells like carrion? If I wanted a dead person in the car, I’d run somebody over and pack them in the back seat. I know it’s littering, but throw that crap out the window.
State Trooper: License, insurance card, and registration please. Hmm, ok. I saw this bottle fly out of your car window a couple of miles back. Littering is a criminal offense here in South Carolina. I am going to have to arrest you until we determine who threw the bottle. Oh my God! What is that stench? It smells like rotten meat, like a decaying dead body. Step out of your vehicle sir and open the trunk, please.
Me: it’s only my daughter’s stupid zombie perfume she got on the internet.
State Trooper: Sir, I’ll only say this once more: Step out of your vehicle and open the trunk. Sir, is that a dead moth in the corner over there? It looks like the endangered moth, Flamenmetuclosis. This is a protected species. It is a criminal offense in the State of South Carolina to kill and/or transport it. Put your hands behind your back. Hmm, these zip-ties match your T-Shirt. Mr. Botch, I am arresting you on suspicion of protected species molestation. You have the right to stand there while I make room for you and your daughter in my police cruiser. Anything you say will be doubted and anything I say will be believed. Do you understand?
Me: What is this, a new episode of “The Twilight Zone?”
State Trooper: Oh, so you want to be wise guy? Let’s add resisting arrest, and charge your daughter with complicity in your heinous crime. Barbara, come over here so I can cuff you and read you your rights. God! You stink! I feel sick. I think I’m going to pass out. Ooooh.
Barbara: Come on dad. Let’s get the hell out of here! The border’s only two miles away & the State Trooper’s full of shit about the moth —there’s no such thing. I swear, when we get home I am going file so many charges against him he’ll think he’s a credit card.
Me: Thank you for stinking. Give me a hug! Oh jeez. Let’s wait until you’ve had a shower.
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)
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