Chip Gaines ponders his existence, part 1
The Magnolyuh empire crumbles as a humble man makes a costly mistake
Chip Gaines sat on his porch, watching the Waco, Texas sunset. In between sips of an ice cold Bud Light, he sighed and pet his dog Boomer.
“Boomer, what have I done?” Chip asked.
The dog musta known the question was rhetorical because it didn’t respond. Chip rustled Boomer’s ears, but the golden retriever was in no mood. The dog shook Chip’s hand away and walked off.
“You leavin me too, huh?” Chip groaned.
Chip slugged the rest of the beer, then threw the bottle against the gravel driveway. Shattered glass echoed through nearby woods. He fetched another beverage from his Yeti cooler, twisting the bottle open then tossing the cap across the fresh-mowed lawn.
“Hey Jo! Joanna! Jo Jo!” He yelled, lifting up his sixteenth beer as if he were holding court. “This Bud’s for you!”
Chip laughed, repeating the slogan under his breath. The giggles turned into shrieks as he cried, no longer able to control his emotions. His face crinkled. Try as he might, nothing could stop the tornado of memories come to destroy his mind.
Earlier that morning
The camera operator wasn’t sure if he should keep rolling as Chip began arguing with his wife and business partner, Joanna Gaines. The couple was running behind on production, filming its 1500th episode of the No. 1-rated home renovation show, Fixer Upper: Fixin’ It Up!, for their flagship channel, Magnolyuh Network. The hour-long special would be the couple’s debut after Discovery+++/HBO Infinity bought Magnolyuh for $22 billion.
Chip and Joanna agreed the episode had to be “a big un”; so, they decided to renovate 18 houses at once. Chip was upset when the crew began his favorite day, Demo Day, without him. On camera, Chip laughed it off. When cameras stopped rolling, Chip tore into his right-hand man, Shorty.
“Que pasa, Shorty?!” Chip said. “Demo Day is my shit. And you start it without me? You better be glad this ain’t fuckin’ 2018 when I fired your ass.”
Joanna, decked out in a Magnolyuh-brand poncho and matching beige boots, heard the distress and hurried over. Her sisters from the newly-opened department store, Magnolyuh Sears, followed. The sisters were also dressed in ponchos.
“Chip! What the hell?” Joanna yelled. “You better be glad we’re not rolling.”
“Fuck off, woman.” Chip replied under his breath, but loud enough for his wife to hear.
Joanna responded by arching her neck as if looking at some strange, hellish portal—semi-interested, but unamused. She walked over to the buildout’s entrance, shooing away her sister-tribe then turning to her husband.
“Chip,” Joanna screamed. “A word in private!”
“Here we go, boys,” Chip said, throwing his hammer to Shorty. “Thanks a lot!”
Chip took two steps out of the construction zone, and Joanna laid into him.
“The fuck is your problem, Chip?” She whisper-yelled.
“You know damn-well, Jo,” he responded.
“The fuck I do!”
“They started Demo Day without me, Jo-Jo,” Chip pouted. “Demo Day is my shit. My day. The best day of the year, besides Christmas…and Easter…and all the Christian holidays, save Thanksgiving because that one’s canceled. Is it canceled? I get them mixed up, which holidays aren’t cool anymore. My point is, this is my time to shine, and I can’t.”
“That all?” His wife asked, arms crossed and over it.
“I mean…I don’t know, Cu-Jo. You wanna do this now?” Chip replied, readying himself to let go of it all.
“Oh yeah, big boy,” Joanna relented. “Get it all out.”
“Only because you said so, Jo-ey Bad@$$.”
Chip paced in a small circle for a moment. Seconds later, the levee broke. All his hurt feelings came gushing out, threatening to destroy their production and partnership, romantic and otherwise.
“It started last May, Jo Cocker,” Chip said. “Remember when I had that idea for a show where we renovate yachts?”
“Goddammit, Chip, you can’t have a Below Deck-style reality show called Chips Ahoy!,” Joanna said.
“Why not?”
“Because Nabisco will sue your ass.”
“Who the fuck cares what Nabisco thinks? I’m talking yachts.”
“Nabisco makes…never mind. What else is making you fuss?”
“Well, come to think of it, Jo Biden-Gaines, your designs give me a headache. Your work is getting stale.”
Joanna’s eyes popped wide with shock.
“Yeah, I said it,” Chip continued. “All these open floor plans? Dumb. I want a wall between the kitchen and living room. What if you’re in the kitchen making something that stinks while I’m watching the game on Saturday? Never thought about that, did ya?”
“And while I’m at it, Joanna Banana, what gives with the fucking islands in the kitchen?” Chip asked, screeching like a steam engine. “It’s just a big-ass brick in the middle of a room. No one uses these things as tables or gathering spots or whatever the fuck you and your sisters call them.”
Chip’s use of finger-quotes around “sisters” gave Joanna pause.
“The fuck’s wrong with my co-workers and confidants from the Magnolyuh Sears?” Joanna asked, getting more offended as Chip ranted.
“Y’all wearing ponchos and Ugg boots, and it’s mother-fucking September in Texas. Only thing missing on that get-up is some dipshit slogan like, ‘It’s wine time all the time.’
“Speaking of wine…We don’t drink wine. Ever.” Chip's voice was hitting 100 decibels. “We. Smoke. Weed. Lots of weed.”
“Shush your mouth, we do not smoke weed!” Joanna gasped, looking around to see if anyone heard the gossip.
“Jo Jo Bean…We have six kids, three dogs, 8 cats, and 2 cows,” Chip said. “We own 45 acres of land and run a multi-billion dollar TV network. I think people would understand if we lit a doobie from time to time.”
As Chip caught his breath, metal craftsman/guest cast member Jimmy Don parked his pickup within walking distance of the couple.
“And then there’s this guy,” Chip huffed, pointing at Jimmy Don’s truck. “It’s 2023, and we’re still doing the metal art signs that say, ‘Bless This Mess’?”
Before Jimmy Don could exit, Chip tossed shower tiles at the truck.
“There you go, bud! Can you make a sign outta that? Maybe one that says, ‘Salt Life’ or ‘Porn Hub’?” Chip leaned back into Joanna. “That dude’s signs look like diapers filled with brown Crayolas, and you keep on with it!
“I ask for one thing. One got-damn thing. Demo day! It’s my shit! And that’s fucked up, too! Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Chip stomped past his wife. As Jimmy Don rolled his truck window down, Chip bucked towards him: “If you roll down that window, I’ll shove a framed picture of my fist up your goofy ass!”
As Chip made his way back to the leased 2023 Chevy Suburban XLT, Joanna yelled.
“Hey Chip? Your services are no longer needed. You’re fired. If you come back to set, I’ll see to it that Jimmy Don punches you right in the face.”
Fully enraged, Chip was running back to the set, but he didn’t notice Jimmy Don in the peripheral. Jimmy Don landed a hit to Chip’s face. As Chip returned to reality after the surprising blow, he saw the metal worker staring down at him.
“Go on, now, ‘fore I have to sock you again,” Jimmy Don said. “Try me, boy.”
Chip wanted no part of it. He stammered back to his SUV, revving the engine then peeling out towards home.
dude. you took me on a journey. and to think, this story was 1,000% true. the gaines' are SOOO canceled, yall. bless they magnolyuh hearts.