Funeral Home, Viewing Room.
Seeing Lip and the other two arrive.
Haha.
Dexter was truly happy—he was practically over the moon.
This funeral was turning out to be interesting as hell.
Lip read the room instantly. He didn't waste time and decisively signaled Ian to head toward Clayton.
Ian didn't move. His expression was complicated.
"Ian, we're already here. We might as well get to the bottom of it," Lip advised calmly.
Hearing this, Ian blinked, finally made up his mind, nodded, and started walking.
The three of them walked toward Clayton just like that.
Frank, Monica, and a truly pissed-off Fiona saw the trio.
Because Lip was her favorite son, Monica panicked a little. She hurriedly stepped away from Clayton, stood up, and greeted them with a smile. "Lip, Ian, you guys came."
Lip immediately shot Monica a glare and ignored her.
Not long after.
Ian and Lip arrived in front of Clayton, who had just breathed a sigh of relief. They looked at him.
Just one look...
"Jesus," Lip gasped aloud. "Ian, looks like it's true."
Ian didn't make a sound, just stared at Clayton with an increasingly complex expression.
Clayton naturally saw Ian too. He stared back, knowing deep down that, based on the resemblance, Ian was almost certainly his son. His eyes and face filled with clear guilt.
Seeing Ian's reaction, Monica felt guilty too. Her mouth moved a few times before she finally found her voice, apologizing to Ian. "Ian, I'm so sorry. I really didn't know..."
"Monica, shut up!!" Ian didn't let Monica finish, cutting her off ferociously.
Monica flinched at the aggression, looking terrified.
Seeing this—and fueled by the coke currently running through his system—Frank glared and shot up from his seat. "You little bastard, how dare you talk to your mother like that!"
The fact was, of the six Gallagher kids, Frank only ever beat Ian. You could say Ian was the only one he dared to beat.
Being cursed at, Ian whipped his head around, glaring ferociously at Frank. He didn't back down this time. "I'll talk however the fck I want! None of your damn business!"
Hearing those words.
Good lord!
"Motherfcker, you little bastard!" Frank's eyes bulged. He cursed and lunged at Ian, grabbing him by the collar. "I'm gonna teach you how to respect your mother today!"
The fight was on!
The chaos of this funeral instantly leveled up to a new stage.
The next second.
Ian didn't back down; he fought back immediately.
Debbie and Carl finally moved, trying to break it up.
Monica and Fiona were screaming frantically, both trying to pull Frank and Ian apart.
Clayton hesitated, then moved in, trying to protect Ian.
The scene descended into total chaos.
Not far away.
Jerry Gallagher and Wyatt Gallagher watched, shaking their heads. With perfect chemistry, they sighed in unison, "Goddamn Frank."
The funeral director instinctively looked at Dexter. Thinking for a moment, he didn't stop it. He figured, let them fight. If they break the chairs, Dexter has money. He'll pay.
Dexter was laughing his ass off. He hurriedly pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and enjoyed the show.
Kev, being a genuinely good guy, frowned, looking a bit worried. "Dexter, aren't we going to stop them?"
Hearing this, Dexter decisively shook his head with a smile. "No. Just watch."
As soon as the words left his mouth.
Ian and Frank wrestled into a pile of chairs, crashing to the floor and taking the unstable Lip and Monica down with them.
"Fck you! I'll kill you!!" Having spent over a year in ROTC, Ian actually had a lot of strength and knew how to fight. In the blink of an eye, he gained the upper hand, roaring as he swung his fist and smashed it hard into Frank's face!
Thump!
The sound was dull, but strangely satisfying.
"Fck!" Frank screamed in pain. He immediately fought dirty, driving a knee into Ian's fatal weak spot. He regained the upper hand, his face twisted as he strangled Ian. "You little bastard, dare to mess with me..."
Faced with this kind of situation, Fiona—whose only skill was screaming mindlessly—saw this and instantly screamed even louder...
Well, if screaming could stop a brawl, Fiona would be very useful. Unfortunately, it couldn't.
One second, two seconds, three seconds.
Carl moved. Without a word, he picked up Lip's fallen crutch, face set in stone, raised it high, and smashed it down on Frank's back!
Whack.
Another dull, satisfying sound.
Clearly, Carl put a lot of force into that hit.
Frank groaned, his vision went black, and he slumped onto Ian, passing out cold.
Ian could finally breathe. He gasped for air, and at the same time, instinctively shoved Frank off him with force.
Having pushed Frank away, Ian scrambled to his feet. Eyes burning with rage, he lifted his foot and started kicking Frank viciously.
"Ian, Ian, don't..." Monica still cared about Frank and screamed desperately.
Honestly, Ian liked Monica too. Hearing her scream, he kicked one last time and stopped. Then, he spat on Frank. "Fck!"
Finished cursing, Ian turned to Clayton and spoke ferociously, "What the fck is the deal with you?"
Interestingly, Clayton was essentially soft inside like Ian. Facing the question, he just looked guilty and couldn't speak for a moment.
A few seconds later, seeing Ian still glaring at him, Clayton took a silent breath and barely managed to speak, guilt-ridden. "I'm sorry. I just found out about you too. I didn't know before..."
"Heh." Ian sneered. "I don't need you!"
He said it decisively, then turned to Monica. "Good job, Mom!"
With that, Ian walked away without looking back.
Monica was on the verge of tears and hurriedly chased after him. "Ian, Ian, listen to me..."
And with that.
The excitement finally came to a close.
Lip, who hadn't expected things to turn out like this, sighed heavily. Then, he reached out to Carl. "Carl, good hit. Give me the crutch."
Ian was gone. Lip planned to leave too.
Carl gave a cool smirk and handed the crutch over. "What do we do with Frank?"
"Drag him to the side, just keep him out of the way. I gotta go," Lip said, preparing to leave.
Fiona, whose head was about to explode, heard this and purely out of instinct grabbed Lip's arm. "Lip, you're already here. Don't go yet..."
Lip had no interest in listening to Fiona.
But, just then, Debbie spoke up too. "Lip, stay."
Hearing this, Lip looked at Debbie. He hesitated for a few seconds, gritted his teeth, and nodded. "Okay."
Carl didn't join the persuasion. He had already grabbed Frank by one foot and was dragging him, moving Frank like a dead dog.
"That's Carl for you," Dexter watched, smiled brilliantly, and sighed with appreciation.
This show was fcking spectacular.
Dexter watched to his heart's content, feeling great.
---