Richard

As it turns out, I have a cousin named Richard. I just met him two weeks ago, and before hand was completely unaware that he even existed (how embarrassing). As it turns out, he has been living near me for some time—seven years. In my basement. He has shoulder length curly red hair, many freckles, and he is very pale. My guess is, that is due to the fact that he has been living underground for so long. I'm not sure why he has been so reluctant to reveal the fact that we have lived in the same house for so long, but I think he's just shy. It's okay though, he has kept in touch by watching me from behind air conditioning vents when I sleep and when I eat my meals. That's just his way of doing things. Some might say it's strange, but I think it's just different—unique.
Let me back up. Richard's parents wanted a girl, so when Richard was born, he was put up for adoption. For the first half of his life he was raised by raccoons in eastern Los Angeles. They taught him much about music and audio engineering. The flashing lights and brightly colored knobs kept him happy and quiet. But the years passed quickly and Richard soon became a young man, and a life of audio engineering was not for him. He had wanderlust, and the raccoon bites had become infected.
He traveled to Europe for a while and before long, life for him became nothing more than an irritation that occurred between cigarettes. He fit right in. He started a London based band known as the "Hearty Polyp Chuckles", and became an instant success. But a life of rocking was not for him either; the screaming fans confused him and the drugs made him grumpy and unsociable. He joined a support group to help him through all his troubles, but they were grumpy themselves and promptly told him to go to hell. Thoroughly disillusioned, Richard longed for a simple life. The life of an underground hermit. The romantic pastoral life that he had dreamed about since he was young. Now he is fifty five, is socially awkward and has just recently worked up the courage to reveal his existence and family connection to me. Personally, I don't see the resemblance, but how else would he have known the names of all my relatives, my mother's maiden name, what my favorite color is, and what position I sleep at night unless he was related to me.
Right?