Look at them. They think they're so fucking cool. I've always considered myself one of those on the fringe, on the outside looking in, but this fucking asshole might as well be Dirk Diggler. He's certainly going to get laid more than a porn star tonight. Thirty-two points, eighteen rebounds, eleven assists, and six blocked shots. Fucking neanderthal. He wouldn't have played in this fucking game if I didn't help him cheat on his last exam.
"I owe you a solid brah,,," Really? Well it's time to pay the proverbial piper fuckmeister,
"Yo Dillon! Solid game mo' fo'!"
His face was stoic. He grabbed a gram sized mushroom, chewed on it until he gagged, then had the fucking audacity to greet me with, "I can't believe you didn't blow me, faggot..."
I smiled, raised my arm, and waited for a "high-five" from somebody...anybody...
Nylon rope - check. Duct tape - check. Plastic sheeting - check. Saws-All - check. Dry wood - check. The last person had left the party.
Dillon was positioned in his final station. I slapped him until he woke from his drunken stupor. He seemed bewildered at his current situation...wrapped up like a redeeming gift.
"Hey Dill-DOE. Get it? You're fucked! HaHA!" His screams were surprisingly muffled behind the duct tape. His limbs were separated from his body easier than I would have imagined. The only thing I was not prepared for, was the smell of him coming from his parents' chimneys, as I drove away.
Have a good night bishes.