During the evening Josh took courage, and went to his dad. He avoided his grampa all day and now he needed to tell his dad that something was wrong.
He found him in the living room watching tv, wearing just a pair of green short.
"Hey dad" he said.
"Hey Josh I'm watching some football, wanna join?" he asked jovially.
"There's something I need to tell you. Where is grampa?"
"I don't know Josh. Do you want to talk about your fishing trip?"
"No..ehr..yes dad. Grampa is not himself...he said horrible things"
"What do you mean Josh?" he said with a smile. He clearly didn't believe his son.
"Dad, he called me -faggot-!"
Greg didn't know what to say. There was a minute of silence.
"Son, you know, your grampa isn't very young anymore. Old people..sometimes...have difficoult to recall toughts, or maybe you just didn't understand his words."
"Dad I'm sure he said that!" Josh protested. He never thought his grampa could suffer from dementia.
"Josh, you're a brave young boy. He's my dad. Please, could you tried to forget this...er.. incident?"
Josh thought a moment about this and then answer.
"Yes dad...of course"
"Good boy" and the hugged his son.
Josh went to his room and his dad waited in the living-room. A couple of hours later Grampa came back home.
"You fucking idiot!" Greg said.
"What???"
"He could have understood everything because of you! HOW COULD YOU HAVE CALLED HIM FAGGOT? AFTER ALL WE HAVE DONE TO STEAL THOSE BODIES! FROM NOW ON YOU'LL BE A PERFECT GRAMPA! ARE WE CLEAR?"
"y--yes sorry Danny."
"DON'T CALL ME DANNY! YOU MORON! I'M YOUR SON, REMEBER?! I KNEW I HAD TO BE THA GRAMPA!"
"s-sorry"
"NOW GO TO JOSH AND TELL HIM YOUR SORRY. GO ON!"
