Date. Part 2

Melissa surveyed herself in the full-length mirror that lay snug inside her walk-in closet. It was more of a step-in closet but despite its dimensions it did its job and suited her less than sizable wardrobe. She gave herself a once over, pressing out some wrinkles with the palm of her hand, which she then used to comb out any confusions in her hair. She then exited to the criticisms of her friend Cassy.

“Tsk tsk tsk, just what I thought,” said Cassy giving Melissa a look of real concern.

“What?!?” questioned Melissa, positively puzzled having thought this outfit was the one.

“You look freakin’ beautiful. Just like you have in you’re last six get ups. If I had half a mind I might think you really like this guy.”

“Oh I don’t know. He’s just really sweet, like, he asked me on a date. He literally said ‘Would you like to go on a date sometime,’ isn’t that adorable?” She seemed smitten.

“As opposed to what? A drunken booty text in the middle of the night?”

Melissa had a penchant for bad boys, or more accurately boys who were no good.

“Oh, stop it. That rarely happens, and who are you to talk? Didn’t that skuzzy skater boy roll in here at like three o’clock last night?

“He did and we fucked like animals, look I’m not judgin’ and if I was you’d have a four point O cuz you’re pullin’ nothin’ but grade A beefcake.”

“Oh Cassy you so sassy.”

“You know it gurrrl.” They high fived and booty bumped with choreographed precision.

“Anyway, alls I’m saying is you deserve more than just primal pleasures.”

“Yea, no you’re right… I can still get the pleasures too though, right?”

“I said more than just didn’t I? But that’s really up to your boy. Do you think he has it in him?”

“I dunno, he seemed kinda shy in that way but he could really move on that dance floor, so… I dunno, I dunno. Hmm that’s weird,” Melissa said checking her phone.


“My Mom’s calling. It’s like ten o’clock over there. She never calls this late.” Cassy shrugged her shoulders with nothing else to offer. “I gotta take this.”

“You must! You must!” Cassy became boisterous under the influence of wine.

“I must! Hey Ma. Whats up? Isn’t it past your bedtime? Wait what? What do you mean he’s in the hospital!?! Allergic reaction…? To what? What did I say about all those drugs, see this is the problem with western medici… Yea. Yup. OK. So should I get a flight? Yea, but. OK. Fine. I will. I love you to mom. Keep me updated. OK, bye. I love you.” Melissa’s phone went from her cheek into her lap with the force of gravity equal to the situation. “Shit. Fuck.”

“What’s up Buttercup?”

“My Dad is in the hospital.”

“Whaaat? What happened?”

“He was taking two separate meds that he shouldn’t have together. One made the other more potent or something and he started to over dose. They had to put him in a medicated coma to keep him from going into shock.”

“Is he gonna to be alright?”

“My mom said the doctors told her he would be fine once the drugs are out of his system.”

“Well that’s great then, he’s gonna be fine.”

“But what if he isn’t, what if he gets stuck in the coma and they can’t get him out? I’ll have a vegetable for a father. He’ll never see his grandkids.”

“Grandkids? Wait a minute are you pregnant?”

“No I’m not pregnant, but you know, like, in the future. Who knows, maybe I’ll never get pregnant cuz my father is stuck in a coma which causes my mother to go into a deep depression so I end up having to move home and take care of her and then I get a cat and then another cat and I spend my days getting fat eating ice cream and watching reruns of ‘Everybody Loves Raymond’ in between wiping my mothers ass and spoon feeding her because she is practically comatose from depression due to her husbands literal coma…”

“Chill out!” scolded Cassy, handing Melissa a glass of wine filled beyond the pessimistic view of her future. “You’re gonna be fine. Your mom’s gonna be fine. Your dad’s gonna be fine. Everyone is gonna be fine. Your future will be filled with happiness where your mom wipes her own ass while your dad is watching baseball and your thin self is making as many babies as you please.” Melissa took a sip of wine as if to swallow this reality and Cassy extended her support by lifting the bottom of the glass from sip to gulp in hopes of tipping her view of the future. “Got it!”

“Yea you’re probably right.”

“You know damn well I’m right. Now, all this talk of baby makin’s got me wonderin’, are you still goin’ on that date?”



“I can’t go on a date, I’m a wreck.”

“Which is why you should go. Get your mind off it. Your mom said he would be fine, there’s nothin’ you can do about it, no sense in sitting around bein’ a worrywart. A little distraction will be good for you.”

“But I lost my appetite.”

“Then go for drinks. You could use a stiff one right about now.” Cassy was close to making note of her double entendre but thought better of it.

“I don’t know.”

“Trust me.”

“Maybe your right.”

“I’m always right. Now text that boy and tell him to meet you at the bar.”

“Alright,” said Melissa reluctantly texting Ryan.

Part of her, if not most of her, hoped Ryan would cancel the date in response to her request to change it, or at the very least try to reschedule, but most of her, if not all of her, knew that wouldn’t happen and that it was probably for the best. Cassy poured her another drink and stroked her back in consolation.

“Everythin’s gonna be all right hunny, don’t you worry none,” Her southern drawl seemed to peek through at the peak of her sincerity. Enough minutes had passed that text anxiety would have come to a boil in waiting for his response but Melissa’s mind was occupied with forces greater than the ones she could create. So she checked her phone autonomously rather than obsessively and found that Ryan had responded.

“He said, ‘As you wish,’ ugh, what a sweetheart. I should give him a real chance and reschedule, my minds not gonna be there, it’s not fair to him,” Melissa gave her final bid at staying home and stressing in lieu of going out.

“Life’s not fair and you can testify to that. The whole point of going is to hope your mind will be there, that’s the point of a distraction! Besides he’s being more silly than sweet by quoting Princess Bride.”

“Never saw it.”

“Oh my God! Are you kidding me? It’s such a good movie, we have to watch it.”

“Ok pop it in.”

After your date.”


Before she knew it she was walking towards the bar. Her body was walking but to her it was a mechanical function of which she was not a participant in a world she felt apart from. At the moment she resided in her head, constantly mulling over the coma of her father. She had a handle on the pedestrian who, what, when, where, and why’s of the situation; her father, a medically induced coma, a few hours ago, the hospital, and an accidental over dose, all respectively. What caused her to sign a nine-month lease in the apartment of her mind were the bicycling whos. Who caused the overdose, her father, maybe a clumsy pharmacist or perhaps a doctor prone to malpractice? The motorcycling whats. What if he never comes out of the coma? What if he comes out of the coma a different person? What if he dies? The car racing whens. When would he come out of the coma, if ever? When would America stop depending on dangerous medication? The jet fighting where’s. Where would she be in ten years if her father never comes out of the coma? Where would she be in ten years if her father dies? Where does your spirit go when you die? The space ship rocketing whys. Why did her father take those drugs? Why did he have to be in a coma? Why do bad things happen to good people!?

Her inner turmoil was interrupted by her own voice requesting a pack of Marlboro Reds. She had no intentions of entering a corner store and no plans to buy a pack of smokes but here she was and that was what she was doing. Lady Stress has a way of attracting Sir Bad Habit even though she knows he only wants be with Madam Behavior.

“Five dollar nineteen cent,” the clerk demanded. She happened to have exact change.

“Can I have some matches too please?” She hadn’t smoked in months.

“Matches? Oh no, no matches,” he replied, as if carrying matches was far from ordinary.

“OK, then I guess I’ll buy this lighter.” She chose the orange one, the most uncommon color. “Can I use my card?”

“Fifty cent charge,” he said, unapologetic. She rolled her eyes and sighed while handing him her card. Tonight was not her night.

She packed her butts while exiting the bodega by means of muscle memory. She knew it was supposed to provide a better smoke but never really noticed. She did it because she saw others do the same and soon it became a custom. Monkey see monkey do, a habit for her habit. She peeled off the cellophane and tilted the top back to reveal the foil packing. Her last vestige of will power was torn to bits like the foil keeping her from those sweet sticks. She was out of practice and could not pull off the clean break. Her open pack now resembled a giant shark swallowing twenty thin sailors. She rescued one from the jaws of jaws only to quickly set his head aflame.

Melissa took a long deep drag then released it in a sigh like manner. Ahhhh, home sweet home, she thought. Her heart rate increased pumping the nicotine through her veins that caused a customary calmness. Why do things that feel so good tend to be quite bad for you? Each drag was as good as the last and before she knew it the cigarette was gone and she had arrived at the bar. She flicked the butt into the street and felt ashamed for littering.

“Hey Joe.” Melissa waved walking past the bouncer. He raised his brow in acknowledgment. She was a regular and they were past the point of passing pleasantries. She made a b-line to the patio and lit another smoke. She checked her phone to see if her mother had texted her any news. No new messages. Well no news is good news, she thought trying to convince herself.

“Hey Melissa, the usual? Gin and tonic?” the Bartender asked.

“Mike, I think I’ll have a scotch.” Replied Melissa

“Scotch? Having a rough day?” Mike asked grabbing a glass and the scotch that would be accompanying it.

“Well I just found out my dad is in a medically induced coma due to a mishap with his prescription drugs so you tell me.” Snapped Melissa.

“Whaaaat, that’s crazy. Is he gonna be alright?” Asked Mike, legitimately concerned.

“My mom said the doctors told her he would be fine once the drugs are through his system but I’m still really worried.” She said handing him some cash.

“And rightfully so.” He said handing her the drink. “As a bartender I probably shouldn’t be telling you this but as your friend I’d like to say that you won’t find comfort at the bottom of that glass. You should go home, watch your favorite movie. Keep your mind off it.”

“That’s actually why I’m here. See I have this date and I was gonna cancel but Cassy said it would be a good distraction. So I…”

“Ugh, that Cassy.” Mike interrupted, “She’s a fun girl and all but I would not take advice from her.”

“Stop it!” Melissa said with a laugh, “You know she’s my best friend.”

“Hey, I calls ‘em as I see’s ‘em.” He said with a shrug. “Look I gotta tend bar, are you gonna be all right?”

“Yea, I’ll be fine. Thanks Mike.” But she wasn’t sure she would be.

Melissa removed her phone from her purse and took to googling medically induced comas. Each article brought more than a ray of hope but did little to bring her mind to an ease, which remained steadfast in the company of un with no intentions of defecting to the association of at. Her fidgeting foot formed a symbolic gesture of her manic mind.

Her mother asked her to pray and Melissa promised that she would but it wasn’t a practice she subscribed to. Prayer, to her, was mental masturbation and she preferred the notion of sending good vibes. She focused on her father waking up and his voice telling her that he was fine. She impressed these scenarios on the universe with a sincerity she hoped wouldn’t be denied and felt satisfied to have filled her mothers request, even if it was in her own way. Her positive projections were interrupted by a familiar tune being passed through the lips of her distraction, err date, Ryan.

“Sweet Melissa, Haaeeyaaaaaa.”

Sometimes a simple turn of phrase or innocent line of lyric can send your mind through space and time and arrest you with emotion. Such was the case with Melissa. She awoke in the days of her youth to the voice of her father singing that very line. He hoped it would start her day off on the right foot and she was left to protest, as young girls do when fathers dote, but secretly she loved it and proved to be her amongst her fondest memories. So fond in fact that her heart leapt at hearing that sentimental song. Her positively charged feelings of nostalgia rose past the negative feelings that plagued her causing a bolt of emotion towards the pit of her stomach from the cloud of grief that she had cultivated. It took her more than a moment and everything she had to hold back a storm of tears.

“Oh, hey.” She responded, as if to be without chalant. Ryan hesitantly took a seat, she was sure he knew her secret.

“So, how have you been?”

Melissa took a drag of her cigarette in order to catch her cool. ‘Terrible my father’s in a coma,’ is not a great way to start a date.

“OK, I guess.”

She blew the smoke upward out of the corner of her mouth to avoid it floating towards his face. She was ashamed of her cancerous crutch, though, it was doing wonders to keep her calm.

The bartender came by to take Ryan’s order giving Melissa a chance to check her phone. Still no word from her mother, only a crass text from Cass she wasn’t quite sure how she could have missed, having paid diligent attention to her phone throughout the night.

“Sorry I’m late. I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” Ryan asked.

To bat .300 is quite the feat, that is if your playing baseball but mighty poor if your vying for attention against a phone. Tonight Ryan would be brought up from the minors too soon against an ace hell bent on pitching a no hitter.

“No, not really.” Replied Melissa.

“Good, good. I kinda felt bad, somehow I lost track of time. I don’t know how because I’ve really been looking forward to this. That didn’t really come out right, not like it’s all I’ve been looking forward to this whole week or anything but you know, like it is a highlight.”

He was such a sweetheart and about as nervous for the date as Melissa was for her father. Truthfully she would have been just as nervous but mountains become molehills in the face of Everest.

“That’ll be ten bucks.” The bartender handed Ryan his drink while Melissa looked through her mother’s messages, tempted to ask if there was any news. She was sure there wasn’t. If there were she would have told her. Melissa wished she could be there. She felt so helpless being so far away. Though, would it help if she were closer? Probably not but that didn’t matter much.

The trance Melissa had put herself in was broken quite suddenly by a cough that seemed quite crucial. She feared Ryan might expel his lung at the rate and voracity he was going at it.

“Oh my God, are you alright?”

“*Cough* Yea *cough* sorry *cough, cough, hack* just went down the wrong throat *uuuuungh* I mean tube.”

Melissa was embarrassed for him and wanted to comfort him but instead instinctually checked her phone.

“So how have you been?” asked Ryan after collecting himself. Melissa looked up from her phone with a quizzically look, not actually having heard what he said. “That’s right, ok you guess, sorry. So… do you like to read?”

“Love to.” Melissa answered, though she rarely did and usually only autobiographies by female comedians she liked, or a paperback novel with a Fabio type on the cover. It was obvious he did and she wanted to make a connection, or at least throw him a bone to mask her absent nature.

“Really? Me too. I really like Tom Robbins, such a master of metaphor and he has some crazy knowledge about some very specific things.” Ryan said.

“Hmmm, I’m partial to Hemmingway. Short concise sentences. The man never wasted a word.” Melissa had no idea what she was talking about. She overheard someone say that at a coffee shop earlier in the day. In fact she had never read anything by Hemmingway and probably never would after that review and she could swear she had heard he was sexist. She just didn’t want to appear to be a philistine. Not that she knew what that even meant; nonetheless she was decidedly trying to avoid looking like one. She checked her phone again, this time not to see if her mother had tried to reach her but merely to veil her lie.

“So…” She asked in an attempt to break the silence. “What do you do for work?”

I do audio visual work in hotels. I’m basically that guy in high school who pushed around carts with TV’s on them but instead of high school I’m in a hotel and in a suit.”

“Well at least you get to look nice.” She tried to put a positive spin on what was clearly a job he didn’t enjoy.

“I guess, but it’s really annoying cuz it’s mostly physical labor.”

“Oh.” She proceeded to check her phone having thought she heard it ring. Alas she had no new messages. She must have heard some glasses clinking together, or maybe someone else’s phone, or maybe she was just hallucinating. She put her phone on vibrate in hopes of avoiding any future confusions.

“It’s a pretty easy job. The only thing that took me a while to get was all the different names for everything. Like an extension cord for example…”

Was that her phone or just a phantom vibration?

“Some people call them ac cables, for alternating current.”

Probably a phantom vibration.

“Other people call them Edison, which I don’t really get because Edison backed DC…”

But it could have been her phone. Wouldn’t it be less rude to check her phone rather than think about checking it and pay no attention to him?

“Which is direct current.”

Ryan pulled out his phone and started texting while ranting giving Melissa the green light to check her own which she was now sure had just vibrated.

How’s your date going?

How’s your date going, from Ryan? What was he getting at? Melissa didn’t quite understand what was going on but decided to play along.

Good I guess.

“… maybe someone just mistakenly called it Edison and it caught like wildfire…”

Well you must be bored if you’re texting me. Don’t worry, I’ll save you.

“…That happened when I worked in Boston…”

Melissa read his text and found it entertaining. But could he maintain the game? She gave him a look to see if he would break, to test he wherewithal. So far so good.

Oh yea??

Was her response.

Yea, I’m on my way.

He replied without diverting from his dialogue. This kind of fun, she thought.

“… just goes to show you how names of things can evolve and not make any sense.”

Or how a date can evolve and make little to no sense.

“That’s uhh interesting.” She had no clue what he just said.

“Isn’t it? I gotta go to the bathroom I’ll be right back.”

Ryan finished his drink and walked away leaving Melissa to digest what the hell just happened. She was intrigued to say the least and he had done wonders to keep her mind off her father. Maybe Cassy was right? But now that he was gone her thoughts shifted back towards her grief. She ordered a drink to clear her mind. Then her phone began to ring.

It was her mother. She was excited and then terrified. It was what she anticipated all night yet wasn’t what she wanted. The coin of her fate had landed and it was time to lift her hand and reveal it. She took a deep breath and answered.

“Hi mom.”

“Hi Honey.” Her tone was too subtle.

“How is he?” Melissa’s eyes began to well up and a lump grew in her throat to a size that would prevent her from even sipping the drink that had just been laid in front of her.

“He’s fine, he just woke up.” Her mother said, as if he had just been napping.

Tears broke free from the lids of her eyes and rolled joyfully down the hills of her smile taut cheeks. The distress she had aquired over the hour past was released with a simple sigh. She calmly asked if she could speak to him.

“Can I speak to him?” Her voice slightly wavered.

“Of course. Here you go.” Melissa’s mother handed the phone to her father.

“Hey there Sugar Pie.” His voice was weak but maintained its natural charm.

“Daddy…” She felt like she was six again. Arrested by the love for her father. She didn’t quite know what to say and was more content to hear his voice.

“I know Pumpkin it’s alright daddy’s gonna be just fine.” He was calm and assuring. It was what she needed.

“I was so worried, what did I tell you about all those medications. The mass medical complex is just a bunch of drug pushers with no concern for the well…”

“Alright, alright, I get it. You were right. I get it. Who knew a little nap would be such a wake up call.” He hadn’t lost his fatherly wit.

“Sorry to jump on you. It’s just…”

“I know, it’s fine, I deserve it. I love you and it means the world to me to hear your voice, even if it’s nagging me.” He said in jest.

“I love you too.” She said through tearful eyes she was sure could be perceived over the phone.

“Look I gotta get some rest. Being in a coma is exhausting.” She knew he had that sparkle in his eye and the raise of his brow exclaiming how clever he was. She mustered a chuckle as she always did.

“Ok Dad, I love you. Be well.”

“I love you too Honey. Talk to you later. Buh bye.”

With that he hung up the phone and life was back to normal. Meanwhile, Ryan returned from the bathroom and reminded her that this date was anything but. He seemed different but she couldn’t place how. Was it physical? Was there a new air about him? Maybe the change was inside her? Perhaps the news of her father set her free from the inner turmoil she so recently suffered welcoming her into the outside world.

“C’mon, lets go! I think I saw him go into the bathroom. We don’t have much time. Let’s go!” He said anxiously pulling at the back of her chair. This date was getting weirder by the moment.

“What are you talking about?” She asked with a smile still painted on her face from the news she’d just received, “I just got a drin…”

Before her thought was finished he grabbed the glass and choked it down, this time more successful than the last.

“There, now it won’t go to waste.”

With that he grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the bar, past the tattoo shop, the head shop, the record store and finally the hotel. Melissa made her best effort to keep up with Ryan while he ran but despite her slim figure she led a sedentary lifestyle and this was the most exercise she had gotten in months.

At last they reached the boardwalk and stopped while Melissa caught her breath.

“OK, what are you doing?” She asked, ready for some clarity.

“I told you I would save you from your boring date. C’mon I wanna show you something.” She was led towards the pier by the hand she’d been holding since the bar approaching a set of souls she could only feel sorry for. Melissa had a bleeding heart she often wore on her sleeve and this group of drug-addled derelicts stirred her matronly urges. How far would a shower go for one of these guys? To feel human again and bask in the simple delights of most peoples every day life. But she knew full well that no good deed goes unpunished and she was not prepared to flirt with the potential punishment of delivering such a deed, no matter how good it may be.

“Isn’t it a pity?” Ryan offered as they reached the cliffs.

“What is?” Melissa asked completely clueless to even the pedestrian W’s of the situation.

“You see how the moonlight shines down on the sea.” Ryan proposed, then paused looking out into the ocean with a reverence she couldn’t hope to match.

“It’s beautiful.” She suggested.

“It is isn’t it? It’s a pity that such a vile and destructive drink like moonshine should share a name with something so breathtaking, moving, ethereal even. I just think some things should be left in the realm of romance.”

Melissa couldn’t quite agree. The thought of moonshine only reminded her of the time she and Cassy shared a bottle of it with some foreigners and ended up skinny-dipping in its counterpart. It was all fun and little romance although she could see where he was coming from. She squeezed his hand in an attempt to get the night moving again.

Ryan stepped away from Melissa and offered her his hand as if he was Prince Charming.

“Would you dance? If I asked you to dance?” Ryan sang. She wasn’t sure if he was serious.


“Would you run? And never look back? Would you cry? If you saw me crying?” Ryan sang. Completely committed she realized.

“Come on? Enrique Iglesies…?” It was kind of endearing, she thought. Kind of.

“You better start dancing or I’m not gonna stop singing.” He teased.

“OK, Fine.” She did love to dance and if she remembered correctly he was pretty good. He pulled her in closely

“And would you save my soul tonight?”

Her body lay snug against his as if they were two strange pieces to the same cosmic puzzle.

“I can be your hero baby!” He threw her away into a spin revving the spirit within her while pulling her back towards their shared bliss.

“I can kiss away the pain!”

Each movement more effortless than the last, their bodies spoke to one another far better than they could ever converse.

“You can take, my breath away…”

He dipped her with grace and strength then brought her back into his embrace.

“You’re very beautiful you know.”

“Thank you.” She replied, now smitten.

“You know what I think is the most beautiful part about you?”

Careful, she thought, although she was quite curious.

“Your lips, they just look so damn kissable.

Before she could burst out in laughter they locked lips and the range of emotions she had managed to mountaineer that night; fear, anxiety, hope, and joy culminated with this kiss, which mirrored them so.

“Oh jeez, I just realized I gotta be somewhere. This was great, seriously, but I gotta go.” He said.

He scampered up the hill onto the street and started walking in the direction of the bar leaving Melissa baffled but excited. What is the deal with this boy. He certainly had a flair for the dramatics. Was that what she wanted? Probably not, but the night is young and so am I, she thought as she texted Ryan.

‘Where did you go?’

‘Where did I go? Where did you go? I came out of the bathroom and you were gone? Should I get you another drink???’


‘Another scotch?’

‘No, make it a gin and tonic.’



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From Another Mother -“Porcupines Can Swim?”


JOHN and PETER are watching TV

Next up on Bear Grylls grills. Bear
Grylls grills a grizzly bear while
being grilled by Jill Beers.
Promoting her new show Jill Beers
grills Bare where Jill Beers
interviews people in the bare
looking for the naked truth on
topics ranging from bear markets to
Yogi Bera. Only on the Traveling
CNN Food Network.

I wish I had a cool name like Bear
or even Yogi. I hate my name.

What John? John’s a fine name. It’s

It means toilet. It’s shit.

Well what about my name?

What Peter? Peter’s a fine name.
It’s biblical.

It means penis. It sucks.

Mine was better.

I know.

Yours didn’t even really make any

I know, but still. Penis is worse
than toilet.

John also means purveyor of

True but Peter also means to
dwindle to nothing. I thought John
and Monica would go the distance
but their relationship just sorta
Petered out.

Fuck you. Penis.

It’s weird. There are a few guy
names that mean penis. Dick.




Yea like a condom is a Jimmy hat.
The condom is the hat and the penis
is the Jimmy.

OK, I’ll buy it. Don.

Don? It’s not Don it’s dong.

Dong? That’s how you pronounce your
dad’s name? What is that like a
reverse silent G? An invisible G?
Like there’s no G there but you
pronounce it anyway. Like the
opposite of the silent G in though,
where there’s a G there but you
don’t pronounce it.

My Dad’s name is DON. A penis is a

OHHH! I always thought Don meant
penis. Cause your name means penis.
So I thought like your dad wanted
to name you after himself but he
didn’t wanna do it in the
conventional way and just name you
Don Junior so he named you Peter
which would be like you’re penis
junior to his senior penis Don.

Your mind works in mysterious ways.
How do you make it in the real

I put my shirt on one sleeve at a
time just like any body else.

It’s pants.

That’s ridiculous pants don’t have

The saying is, I put my pants on
one leg at a time.

But that would take like twice as

Peter sighs and walks away.




John is at a house party with CHAD smoking a bong.Chad is
your typical bro type. He is wearing a baseball hat
backwards with sunglasses on, a polo with the collar popped
and plaid patterned shorts.

Dude did you see the fight last
night it was epic!

Chad hands John the bong.

I told you man I don’t like that
UFC shit.

John hits the bong.

Nah dude it was awesome. Fuckin’
awesome. Aldo was blasting Silva in
the face, blap, blap, blap. Silva
was looking like a little bitch
then all of a sudden he fuckin’
like bear hugs him and sweeps the
leg. Before you know it Silva has
him in an arm bar and Aldo taps out
like little pussy. I’m telling you
dude it was sick.

(While exhaling)
Sucks to be me I guess.

Chad looks around, there are babes everywhere.

Dude lets get outta here this place
is a fuckin’ clambake.

Chad hits the bong.

Fuck that. This is like a once and
a lifetime party. I feel like my
sneakers blew up and I’ve gone to
heaven. Besides, I never ask you to
leave when it’s a sausage fest.

(Blowing out smoke)
Ha! What about last weeks kielbasa
carnival. Or the infamous pepperoni
party. Or last nights hot dog
hoedown and by the why I’m pretty
sure none of these girls are

Come to think of it, it was more of
a hootenanny and I don’t think I
heard sausage fest in any of those

Yea, but still…

Ok, fine, I’ll admit I ask you to
leave when a party is particularly
testosterone fueled but we never
do. And you always seem to find
that guy who has had enough to
drink that he’s feeling a tad
experimental with his sexuality.

Yea I do.

Yea you do.

John hits the bong

Do you really want to deprive one
of these tens to see what it would
be like to get with a six like me.
Maybe she’ll realize we try harder,
are more attentive to their needs,
are generous lovers. In so many
words, give me a chance to eat the
O outta one of these girls pussies,
maybe toss her salad a bit, I dunno
we’ll see how things go.

Dude you’re disgusting.

Eye of the beholder my friend. Eye
of the beholder.

John’s phone rings and he answers it.

Dude! where the hell are you, this
party is insane.


I got held up at work. I’m almost
done though.


Fuck that dude get your ass down
here. Besides it’s just an
internship, they don’t even pay

Chad hands John the bong. John puts his phone down to hit

How many times do I have to tell
you it’s a paid internship.

John hands Chad the bong and gets back on the phone.

Besides I’m almost done. I just
gotta head home and change.

Change? What for?

I dunno I’m wearing a suit. It’ll
be weird.

Nah dude, the chicks will dig it.
Besides you’ll have to double back,
it’s a waste of gas. Think of the

Alright fine. I’ll be there in

Veronica’s here.

I’ll be there in ten. Peace.


John gets up and approaches a group of girls.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a
group of more beautiful women. Hi
I’m John.

The girls roll their eyes and walk away.

They’ll come around.



John is surrounded by beautiful women all smoking the bong
and laughing. Peter approaches them.

And he goes, I didn’t know
porcupines could swim!

All the girls laugh hysterically

Peter! You made it. Ladies, Peter.
Peter, ladies.

(In unison)
Hi Peter!

Hi Ladies.

John hands Peter the bong and looks him up and down.

So who died?

The ladies laugh. Peter looks defeated.

I’m kidding you look great. Now hit
this and lets get this party really

John hands Peter a lighter. Peter hits the bong.

So? What’s it like?


Smoking pot with a tie on. I didn’t
even know it was possible.

Oh fuck you, I’m outta here.

I kid, I kid. Besides, why would
you leave when Veronica is checking
you out.


Somehow yes, seriously.

VERONICA approaches Peter.

Hey Peter.

Hey Veronica.

Look at you all dressed up. what
are you some sorta fancy pants
business man now.


Peter appears to be at a loss but John mimes for him to go
with it.

Yea actually.I work for Mitchell
John-son and Chad (pause) wick. We
are like one of the biggest
marketing firms in the country.

That’s so cool. Do you guys work
with celebrities and stuff.

Celebrities? Oh yea, of course.
Tons, tons of celebrities.

Really? like who?

Oh well there are the sports stars
like Beckham and Lebron. Movie
stars like Uhh, Peter Dinklage.


Oh, he’s the midge… uh little
person, man. Little man? from Game
of Thrones.

I don’t watch that show.

Yea, me neither. Oh! He was the
author guy in Elf.

Oh, right. I love that movie!

Me too! We work with pop stars too,
I just got out of a meeting with

That’s right she’s in town for that


Oh my God could you get us tickets!

Tickets…? Right tickets of course
I can get tickets. I’m just so used
to calling them passes.

You can get us backstage passes!

Yea, no problem.

I’m so excited!

Veronica sequels and gives Peter a big kiss.

Me too!

Peter looks worried.

Oh my God I gotta go tell my
friends. I’ll catch up with you

I’ll be here!

Veronica sequels again and takes off. Peter approaches John.

How’d it go.

Great, I just have to get my hands
on some backstage passes to the
Rihanna concert.

I got you cuz.

You can get tickets?!?

Yea, I got a guy.

You got a guy?

Yea, I got lots of guys.

I know, I’ve met your guys. You can
understand my concern.

Lets just say Rihanna and I share
the same coke dealer.

Rihanna and you share the same coke

How’d you know!

You just said it. How stoned are

I’m as stoned as a bird… and
another bird. Hit this?

Peter acquiesces.



Peter is at the water cooler with his coworker DAVE.

I’m telling you man lesbians make
the best badminton players. Think
about it, shuttlecock comes over
the net and they’re like, get that
cock away from me! And they whack
it over to the other side.

So does that make gay guys the
worst badminton players?

Well, it stands to reason.

But you just said they whack the
cock. Don’t gay guys love to whack

Damn it. You’re right again. Man, I
thought I was a good debater but
you, you’re a master debater.

(off screen)

Good talk.


Peter is standing outside his bosses office door.

Hey boss you rang?

Yes, Peter, come in. Come in.

Peter enters the office.

I’ve got a project I think you can
really sink your teeth into and if
you do a good job it could mean big
things for you. Are you interested?

Well, yea. Of course, anything.

Great, we’re looking for marketing
strategy ideas for a new product
we’d like to gear towards the urban
youth and hell, you’re about as
urban youth as it gets in this

Actually sir I grew up in a pretty
rural area.

You’re joking right.

Joking? Yea, I was joking, of
course I was joking. Rural, c’mon

Ha! classic Pete. Rural area,
hilarious. Well, do you think
you’re up to it.

Of course, with my urban
sensibilities I’ll knock this outta
the park.

Just what I thought. Have this on
my desk by the end of the day.

Peter exits the office with a look of fear.



Peter is staring at a page full of doodles looking
overwhelmed. His phone RINGS. He answers.



John is preparing a bbq.

Sup homey


Struggling dude. My boss finally
gave me a project. I’m supposed to
gear this product towards urban
youth? I’m from the sticks what do
I know about the urban mentality?

Are you joking?

Why does everyone think I’m joking?

Urban means black in you peoples

You people?

Yea you marketing fucks who
marginalize us people, pray on our
hopes and dreams and use sex to
sell us shit we don’t need.

Alright enough already. How do you
know urban means black anyway?

How do you not know? You know, I’m
a lot smarter than you think I am.

John pours some gas onto the grill shrugs his shoulders then
pours a ton of gas on the grill.

Well even if urban means black I
still can’t think of shit. This is
stressing me out man I can’t think!

Calm down calm down. What’s the

I dunno dude. It’s some kinda toy
but it doesn’t do shit. It’s like a
pet rock with out the ironic

Damn, too bad it’s not grape soda,
that woulda been a cinch.

Fuck you.

What? That shit’s delicious, it
sells itself.

Damn you’re right, I wish it was
grape soda or even orange soda.

I love orange soda.You know, you
should go to the mall, clear your
head, get some inspiration.

That’s not a bad idea.

Hit up the one on the southside,
it’s more “urban”. And when you’re
done swing by the house I wanna
introduce you to Oleg?


Yea he’s my guy who can get you
those tickets.

Your coke dealer?

ixnay on the okeca over the onepha.
But yea.

Pig latin? NSA is gonna have real
trouble with that.

Whatever dude. See you later?


Aight peace.


John lights a match, throws it on the grill and is engulfed
in flame.


Peter is walking through the mall eating a pretzel. He
looks stressed and frustrated. He walks by a Brookstones
and sees a vibrating massage chair. He sits in it and turns
it on. He starts to get relaxed. Suddenly he has a
revelation and starts writing ideas furiously in his
notebook. He looks very pleased with himself.


Peter strides into his bosses office and slams his notebook
on the desk.

End of the day? How about end of

Peter’s boss looks over his work.

What the hell is this.


I knew you people couldn’t swim but
I had no idea your handwriting was
so bad.

Actually I swam All American in
high school.

And yet I look at chicken scratch.
I mean seriously it looks like you
had a stroke while you were writing

That or I have Parkinson’s disease.

Do you think this is a joke?

No sir.

Have this on my desk in a legible
manner by the end of the day or I’m
going to have to seriously
reconsider your employment here.

Loud and clear boss. Loud and


John, Chad and Oleg, a thin unassuming black man with an
eastern europeanish accent, are unpacking boxes. Peter

What’s all this shit?

John’s mom is turning his childhood
bedroom into a fuck room so she
made him take all stuff.

Fuck you dude it’s not a fuck room
it’s a relaxation room.

There are mattresses all over the
floor and pillows everywhere. If
that’s not a fuck room I don’t know
what is. The only thing missing is
a lube dispenser.

Aw dude that’s gross isn’t your mom
like 75?

she’s 77 and it’s not gross because
it’s not true.

Your mom is 77? If that’s true she
had you at 56. Is that even

The women in my family have young
uterus’s. Uteri? Uterussy? Anyway
they can have kids late in life.
Actually I was the last egg. After
I was born my mom took a one way
ticket to menopause town. She
would always tell me she saved the
best for last.

I can’t imagine how the first egg
would have turned out.

What’s that?

Uh nothing. Who’s this guy.

Oh right. This is Oleg. Peter,
Oleg. Oleg, Peter.

I hear you are wanting some

Passes actually. Backstage passes
to the Rihanna show.

Tickets…passes… yes, these I

Sweet! How much?

Oleg hands Peter a walkie talkie

You are code name Porcupine. I am
Siberian Tiger. I will call. You
will answer. You will do me
favor. I will give you tickets.


Yes passes.

Porcupine? Really? Can’t I be
something cool like you? Hey, how
about Panther?

You want passes?

Fine I’ll be porcupine.

Something starts vibrating in one of the boxes. Peter
fishes it out and it appears to be a vibrator. He drops it

AW DUDE! Is that what I think it

If you think it’s a vibrating pen
from the 90’s then it’s exactly
what you think it is.

John starts rummaging through the box and pulls out a

Check it. I used to try to get
celebrity autographs with that pen.

John flips through the pages. All the autographs look like
chicken scratch until we see Michael J Foxes which looks
almost like calligraphy. Peter has an Aha! moment.

Hey can I borrow this?

Yea no problem.

Thank’s dude your a lifesaver! Look
I gotta go. Looking forward to your
call Oleg, or should I say Siberian

Oleg gives him a nod. Peter exits.

Later porcupine!

Chad pulls a childish drawing out of the box.

No wonder you didn’t become an

Hey I was a Crayola master. Lemme
see that.

Chad hands John the drawing. They both look it over.

Looks like a family portrait.
Except who’s that little blond kid?

I don’t know.

I thought you were the last egg?

I was.

So… What the fuck?

What the fuck indeed Chad. What the
fuck indeed… Oleg you got any

Shrooms, of course I am having

How much for an eighth?

Oleg pulls a basketball card out of the binder he has been
looking through.

I will trade.

What?!? No way. That’s my rookie
Patrick Ewing card. That’s worth
at least an ounce.


Oleg and John make the trade.

I will be going now.

Ok bud. See ya ’round.

Auf Wiedersehen.

Oleg exits. Chad looks confused.

That dude know’s he’s black right?

Yea but he thinks the accent is

I can’t believe you traded your
rookie Ewing card. Isn’t he like
one of your favorite players.

Of course he’s one of my favorite
players. Why wouldn’t the greatest
center of all time be one of my
favorite players but that wasn’t
his rookie card. He was with the
Supersonics on that card. Well
past his prime.

Yea but that team doesn’t even
exist anymore so it’s still kinda

Damn. Your right. But you know
what, it was worth it. We’re going
on a journey. A journey to the
depths of my mind to discover who
that little blond boy was. And you
will be my Poncho. Are you ready


Yea from Don Quixote. I’m Don
Quixote and your his side kick

Chad looks clueless.

You know what forget it.

No. No. I’m into it. Ready Donkey

John lets out a sigh.

So did you get that pen at the
science store in the mall? Remember
that store?

Ah yea I remember that store! But
no I think I found it in my mom’s
night stand.



Peter is sitting on the massage chair with the back of the
pen in his mouth. He has on a big grin and writes something
down. He is very pleased with himself.



John is laying on the couch while Chad sits next to him on a
chair with a notepad

Ok, they are starting to kick in.
Remember you’re my guide but don’t
get in my way. This is a journey I
have to take. The only reason you
should interfere is if you think
I’m going to hurt myself. Got it?

Yea I get it. I still don’t see
why I couldn’t shroom too.
Wouldn’t I be more helpful if we
were experiencing the same thing.

No. I need you to be sharp. I can’t
have us both floating willy nilly
in the ether of our minds. You’re
my rock. I need you to keep me

Ok, fine.

Alright, let’s do this.

John starts to stare at his drawing. His eyes appear to
grow heavy. It looks like he is going into a trance.

I feel the hot sun. I hear
laughter. My body is wet. I’m at
the public pool!



A young John is playing in the pool with a younger blond
boy, Sebastian. They are splashing each other.

John stop splashing me!

Make me!

Sebastian winds up for a big splash but accidentally slaps
John in the face.

That’s it you’re dead!

John chases Sebastian out of the pool. They are running
along the deck of the pool. Sebastian trips and falls into
the deep end. He sinks immediately.

Sebastian NO!

John dives in after Sebastian pulls him out of the water and
starts giving him CPR.



John is making out with Chad. John opens his eyes and
realizes what he is doing. He backs away in disgust wiping
his mouth.

Dude what the fuck!

I dunno man you started calling me
Sebastian then you started making
out with me. I woulda stopped you
but this is your journey. Who am I
to get in the way, right?

Yea your right. Sorry I freaked
out. It’s just one minute I’m
giving my little brother CPR and
the next I’m making out with you, I
dunno. Fuck these shrooms are

What a minute, your brother?

Yea, I had a vision. I was playing
in the pool with this little blond
boy, like in the picture, and it
wasn’t mentioned or anything but I
could feel deep down that he was my
brother. He fell in the pool and
drowned. I tried to save him but I

Shit dude. That’s heavy. Do you
think that’s why you never learned
how to swim?

I know how to swim! I just don’t
like to. That’s besides the
point. Do you realize I just
realized I had a little brother!
This is crazy. I must have
psychologically blocked him from my
memory. You know I heard tragedy
can do that.

Yea totally. I heard that too.

I can’t believe my parents kept
this from me for so long.

John looks distraught and is having troubling processing

Yea dude. That’s pretty fucked
up… soooo…can I have some
shrooms now?


Peter knocks on his bosses open door. His boss is on the
phone. He waves Peter in.

You tell that son of a bitch he can
take that offer and shove it up his
dick holster! I don’t have time for
this shit! Get it done.

Peters boss hangs the phone up with a slam.

Ass hat! Peter m’boy come in.

I rewrote those strategy ideas for
you. You should have no problem
reading them now.

Peter puts a folder on his bosses desk.

I better be because you know what
Peter, I’ve had it up to here

Peter’s boss puts his hand up to his eyes.

You don’t wanna be the guy who puts
me up to here.

He puts his hand over his head.

Of course not sir.

Ok then, let’s see what we’ve got

Peter’s boss opens the folder and starts to look over the
papers. He becomes gleeful and his eyes begin to well up.

It, it’s beautiful. It’s as if the
letters are massaging my eyeballs.
Great work Peter, great work.

Well, thanks. Have anything else I
can do for you?

As a matter of fact I do Peter.
You brought me down to here…

He puts his hand below his chest.

and that deserves a reward. I’ve
been sitting on this project for a
while now until I could find the
right person for the job and you
know what Peter, your that guy.
You handle this and who knows, we
might have an associate position
open with your name on it.

That would be incredible!

Alright, that’s the spirit.

Peter’s boss tosses him a folder.

Have this on my desk by the end of

You got it dude!

Is that Michelle from Full House?

Uh yes sir.

Hilarious! What a great show.

You know I keep trying to tell my
roommate that.

It’s just so wholesome, ya know.

Exactly! Ugh what a good show.

What a good show.

Peter and his Boss stare off into space reminiscing Full



Peter enters the living room where John is moping.

Thanks for that pen dude. It worked
like a charm.


Are you all right?

I’m fine, just mourning the loss of
my little brother.

Little brother? I thought you were
the last egg.

So did I…so did I.

I’m just as confused as I am sorry
for you. Here take this.

Peter hands John an orange soda.

My boss gave it to me for doing a
good job today. I want you to have
it. Hell, he wouldn’t have even
given to me if it hadn’t been for
you and that pen.

And if he wasn’t a racist.

Yea, and if he wasn’t a racist.
Good guy, terrible human

Terrible human.

Look man I got to get to bed. I
have a super long day tomorrow.
Keep your chin up.

Will do.

John sips the orange soda.

Even you can’t lift my spirits. It
truly is a sad day.


Peter is asleep in his bed until Oleg calls him on the
walkie talkie

Porcupine come in. Are you there

Copy Siberian Tiger. What can I do
for you?

Get dressed and meet me outside.

Now? It’s like 4 o’clock in the

You want tickets?


Yes passes. You want passes you
come out. Copy?


Peter gets dressed and makes his way to the front door.
John is still awake in the living room.

You’re still up?


Shit dude. Look I gotta take care
of this thing with Oleg but I will
be right back.


Peter exits the house. John is watching the snowy screen of
a channel that does not come in. Peter reenters.

What happened?

That dicklicker was just testing
me. Wanted to make sure I would
answer the walkie.

Yea he does that.

I’m starting to think this isn’t
worth it.

C’mon dude. It’s for Veronica.
You’ve had a crush on her since
like first grade.

You’re right. So what’s up with you
and this brother thing.

I had a vision my little brother
drowned. I tried to save him but I

Cuz you can’t swim.

I can swim God damn it! I just
don’t like to.

Why is it you’re just remembering
this now.

I must’ve blocked it out of my

You’re parents never mentioned it?

Nope, I guess they thought it would
be best for me if I forgot.

You should call your mom up get
this straightened out. Maybe it’s
a false memory or something.

Yea I guess I should. It’s just
about 4 so she’s probably just
about getting up now. I’ll give
her a call. Thanks dude. You
going back to sleep?

Nah I’m gonna get ready for work I
got a ton of shit to do today and
that pen you lent me is gonna make
it all possible.

Uhh, ok. I guess I’ll see ya later.

Later dude. And remember, no matter
what your mom says, things are
gonna be ok.

Peter exits. John pulls out his phone and calls his mother.


John’s mother Jane looks at her phone. She is surrounded by
an orgy of old people.

SHHH. Quiet down. It’s my son.

Jane answers the phone.

Hi Honey, how are you? Is
everything ok? It’s a little early
for you isn’t it?


Ok I’m gonna make this quick. I
found a picture I drew when I was
younger and there was a little
blond boy in it. Then I had a
vision where he drowned at the
public pool. His name was
Sebastian and I could have sworn he
was my little brother.

Ahhh I remember Sebastian.

You do?

Yea, he was your imaginary friend.
You always wanted a little brother
but we couldn’t give you one
because I saved the best for last.

AW thanks mom.

You’re welcome honey. You would
pretend you had a little brother
Sebastian. It was so cute.

And what about the pool?

Oh that was you. You almost
drowned in the pool. You stopped
breathing for like 2 minutes. It’s
a miracle you survived. That’s why
you never learned how to swim. You
were terrified of the water after

I know how to swim!

Sure you do honey.

Some people in the orgy start to moan.

What’s that sound.

Oh it’s just some cats fighting.
Gotta go!

Jane quickly hangs up the phone. John looks at his phone


Peter has got himself situated on the massage chair as if it
is his actual desk. He takes a sip of coffee, breaks out
the vibrating pen and turns it on and the chair. He starts
to write when the pen starts to die. He tries shaking it
and smacking it but it eventually dies. He approaches an
employee of the store.

Excuse Me do you guys sell

I’m sorry we don’t. All of our
products come installed with
rechargeable batteries.

Peter exits the store looking for a place that might sell
batteries. He sees a store called “No Batteries Included”.
He continues to look around frantically. He see a store
called “Solar Solutions”. He keeps looking and finally sees
a store called “Batteries Batteries Batteries” but when he
looks at the entrance there is a sign that says “Out of
business”. He looks defeated until he realizes his walkie
talkie has the same batteries as the pen. He looks at both
the pen and the walkie talkie and is forced to make a


John is on the couch looking over some pamphlets when Peter
enters and slumps onto the couch.

Hey dude, what happened? Oleg told
me you didn’t answer the walkie
talkie when he needed you.

Yea, well, it was either my job or
the tickets.


Yea, whatever, passes. Anyway I
chose my job so no passes for me
and thus no Veronica.

What do you mean no Veronica?

C’mon dude she only wanted me for
the passes. Without them I’m
nothing to her.

That’s not true. She came up to
you before she thought you had
passes. Sure you never actually
had the passes to begin with but
she didn’t know that.

Ya know, that’s true. I could
probably convince her that some
intern screwed up, take her
someplace nice instead.

Or you could tell her the truth.

Why would I do that. She thinks
I’m some kind of a big shot. I’ll
have no chance at all if I tell her
the truth. A girl like that
doesn’t date interns.

You might be right but let’s face
it, for one you can’t afford to
keep pretending to be a big shot.
And B, you can’t handle the stress
of pretending to be a big shot
because, thirdly, you’re a nice guy
with a lot to bring to the table.
I wouldn’t be your best friend
otherwise. If she can’t see that
she doesn’t deserve you. So in
conclusion, I have concluded.

You know what, your right. I’m
gonna head over to her place right
now and tell her the truth.

That a boy!

Peter stands, gearing up to leave.

What are all those pamphlets for?

This literature is about the big
brother program. Turns out my
little brother who almost drowned
was my imaginary friend and I was
the one who almost drowned.

Because you can’t…

Don’t you dare! Turns out I always
wanted a little brother and didn’t
even know it. So I’m gonna pick
one up from social services or
whatever this weekend.

(to himself)
May God have mercy on that little
boys soul.

What’s that?

That’s a great idea. Alright I’m
outta here. Veronica you shall be

(to himself)
May God have mercy on that boys

What’s that?

Good luck!

John gives Peter a thumbs up as he exits.


Peter knocks on Veronica’s door. She opens the door to
reveal herself. She is dressed to the nines. She looks


Veronica looks herself over.

I know right. So are you ready to

About that… I have some bad
news. I couldn’t get the passes.

What? I thought she was a client of
yours. Did some intern screw
things up.

Uhhh, sorta. Look I’m gonna be
honest with you. I’m not some big
shot at a fancy marketing firm. I
do work for a marketing firm but we
don’t work with celebs and I’m just
an intern.


I’m sorry I lied to you but when
you came up to me the other day I
panicked. I know you deserve
someone better than an intern but
you know what, I’m more than an
intern. I’m a really good guy and I
know I can make you really happy.
And sure, I may be just an intern
now but with enough time and
hard work I will be an associate,
hell maybe even a partner one day.
So what do you say, come get some
ice cream with me tonight and maybe
in a few years I’ll get you those
backstage passes and more.



Sorry, you’re cute and all but look
at me. I’m young, gorgeous, and
have little to no ambition. It’s
not that I deserve better than an
intern, I need better than an
intern now before this flame burns
out. I’m a really hot girl and I’m
really happy getting free meals and
backstage passes now. And sure, I
may only be getting with NFL
linemen now but with enough time
and maybe a little work.

Veronica pushes her breasts up.

I can get with a skill player hell
maybe even a quarterback. So I’ve
gotta say no for tonight and maybe
in a few years if you can get those
backstage passes then give me a

Peter has a big dopey smile on his face.

Why are you smiling?

You said I was cute.

Yea, but your still an intern.

Veronica slams the door in Peter’s face.


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Learning How to Swim

She looked so God damn beautiful swimming in that pool of love, so natural, floating with ease.

“Come on in, the water’s fine.” She said, splashing him with affection. He laughed nervously. He was too afraid to jump. He didn’t know if he could swim.

He dipped his foot in. It felt uncomfortable, like nothing he was used to or even felt before. Yet there she was, urging him to join her. She looked happy and he wanted to be with her and experience it too. So he jumped.

Suspended in air he felt a nervous excitement that comes with any risk. It was time for him to sink or swim. Once submerged he felt exhilaration as the water touched every part of his being. It was a shock at first but his body quickly adapted. He held his breath and smiled. He found the water to be more than fine. His breath was starting to go but he held it in order to revel in his newfound joy.

Eventually he surfaced and found floating not to be so hard. A careful stroke of the arms and a simple kick of the legs sent him in whatever direction he pleased. He was doing it. He was swimming

“I’m doing it. I’m swimming!” He called, thrilled to finally swim in the pool of love with her. He looked around but couldn’t see her. He wiped the water from his eyes and searched the pool frantically. When he finally spotted her he saw that she was exiting the pool. His heart sunk yet he stayed afloat.

The water started to feel cold and he thought it salty but soon realized it was just his tears. He slowly swam to the ladder and exited. It was even colder outside. He shivered slightly. Incredible how quickly things can change.

He watched her methodically dry her hair. He thought he’d be upset with her but remarkably he wasn’t, just merely disappointed. He knew she had her reasons for exiting the pool and they were probably even justified. Despite the fact this wasn’t what he hoped for or expected he knew he’d be all right. This story wasn’t over; it was just to be continued.  Sure he was cold now but there would be other pools, perhaps even this one, and when they came he would be ready because he had just learned how to swim and that alone was worth it.

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Ronnie the Reindeer’s Christmas Journey


It was a warm December afternoon and Ronnie the Reindeer was staring out into the Pacific Ocean.  He was doing that a lot this month, his first December in sunny San Diego.  You see, Ronnie wasn’t from around here. Where he was from it was cold and snowy this time of year and Ronnie was beginning to feel home sick.  Surrounded by palm trees and beautiful weather Ronnie didn’t feel the same holiday spirit he felt back home. So he decided to take a journey. He had heard tales of a place ripe with holiday spirit and a giant Christmas tree to boot.  It was called OB. So to OB he would head. He only had to travel in the direction of the pier.


Ronnie knew the journey would be long. There would be many hills to climb


and strange plants to fight through


but he would also make time to smell the flowers along the way.


Eventually Ronnie arrived at a long dark tunnel.


“Helloooooooooo! Is there anybody down there!” He yelled into the tunnel.


Suddenly two white figures appeared out of the darkness.

“Who dare disturbs our slumber?” Said one of the figures.

“Ummm, uh it is I, Ronnie the Reindeer.” Said Ronnie.

“Ronnie?!? From North Pole Polytechnical?” Said the other figure.

“Actually yea.” Said Ronnie

The figures responded by running towards Ronnie excitedly.


“Whoa! Paul the Polar Bear and Winston the Wolf! What are you guys doing here?!?” Asked Ronnie shocked to be seeing his old college buds.

“We moved here after school.” Said Paul.

“Yea, we were sick of the snow but now we kind of miss it.  It doesn’t really feel like Christmas time.” Winston added.

“I feel the same way. That’s why I’m headed to OB. I heard it’s full of Christmas cheer.” Ronnie said. “Hey, I got an idea. Why don’t you guys come with me?”

“OK!” Paul and Winston replied in unison. And away they went.


“Hey look the pier!” Ronnie said. “I think we’re getting close! Only a little further now I can feel it.”

“You better be right I’m getting tired of climbing these hills.” Paul groaned.

“Yea, do you think we could stop for some water?” Winston asked.

“No problem.” Ronnie said and led them to some water.


Together they drank until their thirst was quenched and then continued on their journey. Before long they approached what appeared to be a white rabbit. A trapped white rabbit.


“HeyguysoverhereI’mtrappedI’mtrappedI’mtrapped!” Said the rabbit quickly.”Canyouhelpme!”

“Calm down there little guy.” Paul said slow and lumbering. “Of course we can, right guys?”

“Sure.” said Ronnie.

“Maybe.” said Winston, not convinced they could.

“I would take a step back if I were you.” Said Paul as they approach the grate.


They each grabbed hold of the grate as best they could and pulled with all their might.  Right before they didn’t think they could pull any longer it toppled over freeing the rabbit.


“Hurray!” they said standing a top the grate in triumph.

“Ohthankyouthankyouthankyou!” said the rabbit.

“Boy you talk pretty fast.” Said Paul. “What’s your name little buddy.”


“Hi Ryan I’m Ronnie and this is Paul and Winston.  We’re on our way to OB to find some Christmas cheer. Would you like to join us?  We heard there’s a tree!” Said Ronnie.

“OBIknowOBfollowmeIcangetyoutothetree. WejustgottawatchoutfortheMoedog. GottasteerclearoftheMoedog.” Said Ryan.

“What’s a Moedog?” asked Winston

“OhMoedogsabigscarybeast.  Don’twannamesswiththeMoedog. That’showIgottrapped. IscurriedintothatgratebutthenIcouldn’tgetout. Goodthingyouguyscameby. Icanshowyoutothetree. Followmefollowme!” said Ryan

So they followed Ryan and followed him and followed him.

“Are you sure you know where your going?” Asked Ronnie.

“Ofcourseit’srightoverthishill. AHHHHMoedog!” Screamed Ryan.


“AHHHH! Tiny ones!” The Moedog screamed back.


“What a minute. You’re scared of us? But we’re scared of you.” Said Ronnie

“Well yea, you guys are so tiny and you scurry around so fast. There’s no telling what you could do.”


“But you’re so big. It’s crazy to be afraid of us.” Said Winston.

“I guess you’re right. I am much bigger than you but there are also beings much bigger than I and I am afraid of both. All I really want is friends but I’ve always been too afraid to make any.” Said Moedog.

“Well we’ll be your friends. Right guys!” Said Ronnie

“OK!” the gang replied in unison.

“You can come with us. We’re trying to find the OB Christmas tree. would you like to join us? Asked Ronnie

“I’d love to.” Said Moedog. “But there’s one problem.”

“What’s that?” asked Ronnie.

“We’re already at the tree. It’s right behind you!” Said Moedog.


“SeeItoldyouIknewwhereitwas.” Said Ryan.

“Do you feel it guys, it’s the Christmas spirit!” Said Ronnie.

Before they knew it the sun had set and the tree lit up!


They walked the streets of OB singing carols filled with the joy of Christmas together as friends.




Merry Christmas from Ronnie the Reindeer, Paul the Polar Bear, Winston the Wolf, Ryan the Rabbit and last but not least the Moedog!

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Ass Kicking Time

It’s Friday 10:30pm, ass kicking time. Every Friday and Saturday from 10:30pm to 3:00am is ass kicking time. For the past few weeks me and my crew had found a new past time and that’s right, you guessed it, it was kicking ass. It’s me, Sonny, Jeff, Oleg, Greg, Andy, and Brian. Jeff and Greg like to bring their girls around every once in a while. I don’t get it. I guess they just get off on having their own cheerleaders while they beat the shit out of Joe College. You see every Friday and Saturday night all these university shit heads flock to my neighborhood, get stumbling drunk, and treat the streets I grew up on as their personal trashcan and outhouse. Well me and my crew have had enough. We know we can’t stop the wave of freshman on their quests to get laid and fucked up, but we sure could get a kick out of jumping anyone who crossed our path. Pun intended.

Walking the streets we don’t discriminate who we torture. Completely wasted, stone sober, short, tall, twiggy, fat, black, white, it doesn’t matter. If they enter our twenty yard radius they’re gonna hear about it. We all have our positions or roles if that’s how you wanna hear it. Sonny was the smart ass. He can emasculate a bro from two blocks away. He’s a sharpshooter and the funniest fucker alive. Jeff and Oleg are the muscle, don’t get me wrong we can all hold our own but these guys can really crack heads. Greg and Brian are the instigators. They throw rocks at people who ignore our verbal attacks and bump into whoever dares walk by us. Andy and I are the point guards of the crew. We deliver or take the first hit. We get the party started. Nothing feels better than that first hit, no matter what end of it you’re on. You know shit is about to hit the fan and you’re the one squatting.

“You just gonna walk by like a bitch?!?” Sonny said triggering a massive amount of adrenaline to pump into my veins. 11:24, it’s ass kicking time.

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Montpellier Rousche

There was a man who knew all the answers. He had the knowledge of all wise men past present and future. Not only were his thoughts full of wisdom, logic and intellect they were arranged into beautiful lines of poetry. Each one related to the next yet still uniquely profound. This man went by the name of Montpellier Rousche. Now I know what you’re thinking, “How could I have never heard of a man with all the knowledge of the wisest men past, present and future?” A valid question indeed but wise as his thoughts may have been they were merely thoughts. For when he tried to put these thoughts on paper his pen turned idle and he became as dumb as you or I and when he tried to speak his thoughts he was left with the same affliction. It didn’t help that he was from the twelfth dimension and currently residing in the subconscious mind of a teen asleep in chemistry that barely used his conscious mind.

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The Woods

In his youth he spent his days collecting needles from pine and the fallen leaves of last season in order to burn them throughout the night. They burned hot and bright enough to his liking but the pace of these pleasures out ran their worth and he was left to fall asleep in the cold and dark of the night.

As these days were past, experience came after, and he grew to know better. He found twigs, sticks, and branches might not burn as bright but were sufficient enough and paralleled in heat. They took half the time to collect and burned more than twice as long. This made him happy because it left him time to muse. Meditating on the particulars of his life and day brought him comfort and staring into the flames sparked innate knowledge. He learned to lean his sticks against a rock and use his leaves to matte them giving him shelter throughout the night. This was good but he still woke shivering in the night because though the flames lasted until sleep found him they would die before the morning sun.

With time came strength and knowledge enough to discover logs. They did not burn as hot or bright but they kept him warm throughout the night. Their use extended to his shelter and he built walls enough to stand and set his lean to as a roof.

His prosper kept to blossom as he harnessed the potentials of the rocks around him. They gave weapons to catch his food and a stove with which to cook it. They gave him tools that he could use to recognize the bounty of his surroundings. He grew old and happy and he could thank the woods that gave him life and all the pleasures that come with it.

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