Originally written December 19, 2008
The weather-seasoned car crawled between the white painted lines, and sighed as the characteristic clank faded into an earthly silence. Michael swung the back door aside and leaned into the vacant lot, his jet-black hair glowing in the nuclear summer sun. A broad smile accompanied his sharp Italian eyes as they met the red-bricked facade of fine, middle-class, commercial dinning. He took a deep drag of the grilled, tarry air to prep his carnivorous palate as he observed the concrete encrusted scenery. Behind the lot, thin strands of newly birthed grass emerged from the tortured soil as a fleeting reminder of the land’s former splendor. David and Ross followed closely behind and the three casually gathered around the back of the vehicle. David bent down and picked up a crusty ball of dirt and smashed it between the palms of his soft, dexterous hands. He watched as the sooty crumbs fell between the cracks of his fingers, analyzing the consistency of the soil: sandy, dry, and void of life.
“So what’s the plan this time?” Ross asked.
“I think we should just do the usual, nothing special.” David replied as he kicked the rubber tire.
“How about we do like a good cop, bad cop sorta’ thing this time?” Michael suggested. David abruptly lifted his head and arrogantly stared at Michael. His hawkish, blue eyes scorched Michael’s skin, insulting every innocent pore. “You know…” He added defensively, “like I could act pissed off or something, while someone else, like say Ross, could act really nice and get her all confused.”
“Oh, trust me. I know, damn well how that game is played Michael, but I’m not so sure you’ve really thought this through…” David added as he crept up next to Michael, “So, lets get this straight, you think you’re smart enough to play smart games now don’t ya? Well, Mr. Smarty McFly Pants, why don’t we all just stroll on in there and play Marty McSmarty Smart Games and have ourselves a great old smarty time! Well how bout’ we don’t!” David answered, “Because you’re an ignorant toad and you’re just going to fudge a load on that big ol’ choad anyway!” Ross added to the attacks with a snarling growl, and protruded his teeth like a crazed beast, shaking his head violently.
“But why?” Michael inquired. “If you’re trying to build a logical argument you have to have a reason. And for me, personal insults, however true they may be, do not count as a logical argument. And Ross, you’re going to have to try harder than animalistic rage.”
“Alright, you want to know why Michael?” David answered.
“Yea!” Michael yelled in defiance.
“Because my grandmother once asked the same thing when my father started putting Advil in her medicine vials rather than filling out her expensive prescriptions. And when people get old enough to start questioning the way shit works, they get fucked up Michael! We got rid of that bitch the only way we knew how.”
“You founded an international restaurant chain that marketed largely to the poor, sick, and elderly, and only served meals severely detrimental to overall health, to slowly kill off the masses, and thus your grandmother?” Ross interrupted.
“No! We dressed that bitch up in a penguin costume and kicked her out of a helicopter into shark-infested waters, to die!” David answered.
“Okay, screw it then, we’ll just do the usual.” Michael complied.
“No, were going to do the usual, nothing special.” David answered, “Like I said before,” and he kicked the rim of the tire, catching a glare from Ross.
“C’mon Ross, this things a terd on wheels anyway. What’s another shit-swipe?” Ross reluctantly nodded in agreement.
“Well, was she wearing any clothes?” Ross asked.
“Huh?” David questioned with a surprised face.
“Your grandmother, was she wearing any clothes, over the penguin suit I mean?
“What?”
“Like was it a naked penguin? Or was it wearing a tuxedo, like the way they sometimes do in cartoons? Or did you accent her with wintery apparel, such as a scarf, or cap and gloves?”
“Yeah, he wrapped her up pretty in a smokin’, black, two-piece bikini from Victoria’s Secret. Although, it wasn’t particularly flattering of her wolverine-like figure.” Michael interrupted.
“No, you are wrong about that Michael. Dead wrong! That penguin looked damn good! And nothing like a wolverine!” David said as he dropped his face into his hands.
“Okay, well except for the bearded face, the tear-drop cups that accentuated her voluptuous breasts were a nice touch.” Michael added. David raised his head and caught Ross licking his lips and stroking his hand up and down the inner thigh of his pant leg.
“Cut it Michael! You know Ross has an insatiable sexual appetite for penguins.” David said.
“Oh and how could I forget that stunningly hypnotic, camel hoofed labia.” Michael added, glaring at Ross.
“Ohhhhhh! Ohhhhhhh!” Ross moaned, rubbing evermore forcefully.
“But it was not a design flaw Michael! It was impossible to anticipate the encroachment of the elastic thigh bands upon the flower temple! ” David screamed as he chased after Michael. “Get back here!” He caught up to Michael and groped him around the neck, and kneed him in the asshole, effectively dropping him to the ground. David quietly removed his black blazer and handed it to Ross before tossing his black and white striped tie over his shoulder, clearing his arms for a direct assault. He kneeled down over Michael and pulled his head in line for a quick blow; but Michael resisted and the two tussled on the outskirts of the freshly tarred pavement, while Ross began taking bets from the gathering crowd of onlookers.
“Okay three to one odds on Michael.” Ross yelled over the crowd, as a pile of cash quickly fell into his lap. David landed a successful strike across Michael’s cheek, and followed with a combination jab-uppercut. “Okay five to one odds on Michael!” and another cascade of cash ensued. David then loosened off his tie and neatly wrapped it around Michael’s neck, pulling it tightly to his chest. Michael countered and pulled a tie out of his pocket and neatly wrapped it around David’s neck, tugging him down to the grass.
“What kind of asshole carries an extra tie in his pocket?” David said, gasping for air. Michael pushed David aside and rolled over him, pulling the knot tighter.
“I’m a messy eater. I always carry one, just incase I get a stain.” Michael replied, catching wind. David pushed Michael aside and rolled on top of him.
“Well, two can play that game.” David coughed, and pulled an extra tie out of his pocket and wrapped it around Michael’s neck, chocking him with both. Then Michael pushed David off his chest and rolled on top of him.
“What kind of asshole makes fun of an asshole for carrying an extra tie around in his pocket, when he himself is an extra tie carrying asshole?” Michael questioned.
“Your right Michael. I was wrong.” David replied.
“No, I was wrong David!” Michael cried.
“I mean, why are we even doing this Michael? Look around us. The world is getting rich off of our simple-minded ignorance.”
“Is that a cop?” Michael asked. David looked up and saw Ross pocket a thick stack of green bills from a man in a police uniform, standing next to a police car.
“No, I think that’s just a man pretending to be a cop. You know, so that if a real police officer would happen to drive by, he wouldn’t be arrested for illicit gambling.”
“Oh, yeah. I guess that makes sense.” Michael complied.
“Hey! Ye best get back ta fightin’ if ye drunkards, are expectin’ sometin to eat tonight!” Ross yelled swinging a heavy stick in the air. Michael searched David’s eyes and the two acknowledged their inner thoughts with a spirited grin.
“You know what to do David.” Michael said, and the two jumped off the ground and approached the large crowd of onlookers.
“I like the way your sparkling earrings lay! Against your skin so brown!” David yelled over the mob of people.
“And I wanna’ sleep with you in the desert tonight! With a billion stars all around!” Michael added.
“Cuz’ I got a peaceful easy feeling! And I know you won’t let me down! Cuz’ I’m already standing on the ground!” Ross sang, as the police officer turned up his car radio, blasting The Eagle’s classic rock hit. Michael gathered the generous pile of cash and heaped it into a green mass on the black-tarred lot, while Ross opened up the car trunk, and removed an orange gas tank, spilling the volatile fluid all over the green kindling. David approached shortly behind, and flicked a 12” cigar onto the pile, igniting the paper into a bright red flash of flames. The three then gathered around the smoldering campfire and roasted marshmallows, sang songs, told stories, and enjoyed each others company all night long.
“God damnit Michael! Wake up!” Ross yelled, as Michael still lay motionless on the dusty grass. The paramedics charged the defibrillator for one final attempt.
“Clear!” the EMT yelled, placing the metal plates against his naked chest.
“Thudump!” And Michael’s frozen body jolted off the ground.
“Oh he’s just faking it!” David insisted, patting the EMT on the shoulder, “You’ll see soon enough that it’s all just an act.”
“Well, would he be faking it, if I could do this?” Ross asked, as he unzipped his pants and began urinating on Michael’s cold blue face. “Oh God this is a tragedy! Its just going right down his mouth, and he has no idea!” Ross cried.
“Wow, you really have outdone yourself this time, Michael. Bravo! You are even capable of mentally adapting your body temperature, and skin color.” David said, as he caressed Michael’s frosty, pale forehead. “There is no doubt in my mind that if you hadn’t been such a childish, piggish, racist, sexist, evil, good-looking, charming, honest, caring, wonderful, best damn ever guy-friend that a guy-friend could ever ask for, you would have been a damn good actor person, on the big screen!” At that moment a water droplet, dripped down Michael’s cheek and nestled into the corner of his mouth. His eyes twitched, and his lips cringed as the bitter taste singed his tongue.
“I’ve got a pulse!” The EMT exclaimed.
“He’s alive!” Ross squealed.
“Ehh…What is that?” Michael asked, as he came to. He looked up and saw Ross standing directly overhead, with his hands tightly clasped around his penis.
“Did you? Did you just piss on my face?” Michael questioned. Ross zipped up his pants and hid behind David. “Where am I? What happened to the music? And the campfire?”
“What the fuck are you talking about Michael?” David asked
“I thought we were roasting marshmallows and singing songs.” Michael said.
“No, Michael we had a fight and you looked me in the eyes and told me ‘you know what to do David.’ And I did. So I placed my fingers around your grubby little wet willy and squeezed till I felt that satisfying release!” David replied.
“Yea, you’ve been dead for the past three minutes Michael.” Ross added.
“Oh, okay. I see.” Michael said, with a sunken face. The EMT checked Michael’s vitals one last time before packing up.
“Well, looks like you’re alright now.” And he got back into the van and left.
“All I know is that you made me a rich man today, Michael.” Ross said, as he flipped through a wad of cash, inhaling its gorgeous green luster. “Ahhh! And that my friends, smells like a sweet, succulent lucky leprechaun’s vagina.”