Many animals are able to adapt to their environments.
One type of deer in particular, the Southern Red Muntjac, can bark like a dog to scare off predators.
Adapting to a new environment was never Marvin Harding's strong suit.
But he was going to have to find a way this time.
***
Harold arrived back home, slowly slinking his way past the front door.
Brittany glided through the living room.
"Well there he is. I half expected to see you twirling a gold cane, throwing silver dollars everywhere, like you hit the big jackpot in Vegas?"
"Eh," Harold managed, taking a seat on the sofa.
Brittany sat down beside him, looking lovely in a flowered sun dress.
"You look tired, hon," she sympathized. "So how was your trip?"
Harold struggled finding a way to describe it.
"Uh, good, I guess you could say," he uttered.
She smiled.
Without wasting any more time, Harold came out with it.
"We found him," he informed Brittany.
"Who?" she wanted to clarify.
"Harding!?" Harold revealed with conviction.
Brittany was stunned, displaying a look that was halfway between surprise and trepidation.
"How is he?" she asked, concerned.
"Uh...okay. We cleaned him up. He was better by the end of the flight," Harold rattled off.
"You mean..."
"He's here," Harold said.
Brittany gasped.
"I mean, not here here...he's staying over at Bert's," Harold told her. "It's just Bert, Harding and a litter box full of cat turds..."
Brittany snickered.
"Bert isn't a clean freak, that's for sure," she reasoned.
There were a few moments of silence.
"But...so...what made him - Harding - come back here?" she asked.
Harold shrugged his shoulders.
"He, uh...wasn't doing too well out in Vegas. I mean, he was for a while. Said he was sober for years. But relapsed - big time. But he's trying again. Hasn't had a drink in, oh, 24 hours?" Harold went on. "When we found him, he was in pretty bad shape. He was passed out on a bar, some dive off the strip."
"Oh my," Brittany recoiled.
"Well, that ain't the half of it," Harold revealed. "He had been turning tricks, just to get by. Got fired from his last job, was facing an eviction and everything," Harold went on.
Brittany just shook her head.
"Well...I feared worse," she had to admit.
They both needed a drink, and Brittany fixed them each a Manhattan.
"Oh, and by the way, for better or for worse, I caught a glimpse of the most infamous male appendage in Hollywood," Harold revealed.
"Did you," Brittany playfully cooed.
"He was so drunk, we had to help him into the shower. And, wow, I have to say...," Harold said, trailing off.
Brittany took a sip of her drink.
"That is a big, monster dick," Harold described, not holding back.
Brittany had a good chuckle.
"They don't make 'em like that anymore, Harold," she teased.
"That's exactly what Jimmy said," Harold laughed. "Thing looked like it was loaded with D-cell batteries - a whole pack of them. And that's SOFT!?"
They both found amusement in waxing on about Harding's legendary endowment, but concern was still the overriding emotion at the moment.
"What is his plan? Being back here in Hollywood? Or does he even have a plan?" Brittany wondered.
"Well," Harold shrugged, taking a sip, "I guess we'll find out."
***
Over the next few weeks, the gang handled Harding with kid gloves.
They made sure he got an apartment - right in the same complex as Bert - and found him steady work. Not in the acting biz, but rather as a waiter, at Cassandra's.
Brittany, along with two of her friends from her book club, Alice and Dorothy, spent a lot of time with Harding, taking him to church, charity functions, and other wholesome activities to keep his body and mind in the right place.
Things were looking up.
***
St. Luke's Church was packed on this beautiful Sunday in late August.
Brittany, Alice, Dorothy, and Harding got there a little late, and had to settle for seats way up front.
Other than that, it was an enjoyable service.
But halfway through, Brittany sensed Marvin was feeling some discomfort.
"Marvin, what is wrong? You're fidgety," she whispered into his ear.
He suddenly grabbed for her purse, putting it over his lap.
"What is the matter?" she asked, her concern growing by the second.
He refused to answer, but her persistence wore him down.
Finally, he showed her - rather than telling her - what the problem was.
He lifted up her purse, displaying a tent-like bulge in his dress slacks.
Brittany gasped.
"What is the matter with you?! We're in church, Marvin," she said in shock, with a hint of disdain.
"Britt, I can't control it," he whispered back, placing the purse over what appeared to be an unmanageable erection.
"Well, you better control it," she fired back.
"No, Britt, you don't understand," he answered her, as those sitting in front of the group began to send harsh glances back at them for their chitter-chatter. "Out in Vegas, I was hard up for money...So, I became a guinea pig. Some drug for erection problems...It works...Only problem is, it's...erratic when it takes effect..."
"Well you couldn't have picked a worse time, Harding," she recoiled.
Even so, she began to find some humor in the situation, with Harding clutching to her purse, holding it over his obscene, uncontrollable bulge.
"Jesus, look at this thing," he said, taking the purse away for just a second.
Brittany held back a chuckle.
"Here, take my rain jacket," she suggested, realizing it was a good thing it was drizzling on the way to the service. "Otherwise, people are going to think the circus is in town."
Harding placed the purple rain jacket over his entire lap, feeling a bit more secure now.
But when the service made its way to communion, everyone wondered why Harding remained in his seat.
He waved them off, saying he had hurt his ankle and was trying to stay off his feet.
In keeping with the story, Harding limped to the car after the service, discreetly holding Brittany's rain coat out in front of himself to hide his untimely, unrelenting erection.
It was going to be an interesting ride home.
***
"What were you two goin' on about during the mass?" Dorothy wondered aloud, the Atlanta-born beauty speaking with a definable Southern twang.
Brittany glanced over at Marvin as she was driving, with a smirk. Marvin, sitting in the front passenger seat, remained quiet.
"Marvin...got a little too excited," Brittany revealed.
She was finding more and more humor in the situation, since now they felt the warm embrace of privacy.
"I don't understand," Dorothy persisted.
Brittany sighed.
"You wanna tell them, Marv, or should I?" she asked.
He just stared down at his trousers, dejected, then once again placed Britt's rain coat over them.
"Marvin (laugh)...revealed to me that he has been taking samples of a new drug that...deals with erection problems," Brittany tried to say in a calm, informative manner. "And...they kicked in at the wrong time."
Alice and Dorothy looked at each other, blushing.
"Oh my," said.
As if on cue, a tearing sound could be heard.
It was fabric, ripping apart...
"Oh, no," said Marvin, who had been wriggling around in his seat. "My pants tore..."