Curveball: stuck on the shitter. No paper. Advise.

Me: Go back in time. Listen to everybody on earth.
Waldo: I have ten wiping hacks . . .
Me: How far away are you from the hose?
Curveball: Dude
Waldo: Hey man, we should think about how hairy C-ball really is.
Curveball: thank you–
Me: Try a comb.
Curveball: Shithead.
Me: Shit fingers (in 5, 4, 3 . . .)
Waldo: This is why we keep telling you to read.
Me: Right? I'm using Proust.
Waldo: So soft, so resilient . . .
Me: like wiping your ass with French.
Curveball: Meanwhile. . .
Waldo: Use the force.
Me: Use the sink.
Curveball: Fuck all of you.

By Friday we weren’t laughing. Sookie face-timed me. Her black and white painted countenance filled the screen.

“Bdog, you got to get over here.”

I hear mayhem.

“What’s up, Sooks? Where’s Curve?”

“Look–” she turns her phone and there he is, behind a wall of Charmin 40 packs swinging a seven iron in a deadly arc.

“EVERYBODY JUST BACK THE FUCK OFF!”

Now I’m walking to the FJ, trying to get Biscuit on the call cause he works in sixteen and he can talk them out of using lethal–pop.

Everyone stops. Sookie’s screen is perfectly still. Biscuit’s breathing into the phone. We all watch as Curveball arches his back, flings the seven iron mindlessly away, and crashes through the toilet paper, two quivering wires shooting out from his nipples to the taser in an Officer’s hand.

Sook turns the phone back onto her tear-stained Jugalo face. “Bdog, he was prairie doggin! That’s why we were here! The cops don’t know!”

But it’s too late. As the two innocent officers reach for Curveball to turn him over and cuff him, his backdoor relaxes. They didn’t see it coming. Just a wave of . . .

Both cops lose their balance. They fall into a widening pool. Women and children run screaming from the store. An air patrol unit hovers in the sky. My phone rings. It’s Waldo.

“You hear from Curve? His player hasn’t moved in fifteen minutes.”

“He’s not playing he’s–”

“But his game is still up.”

As the cops drag him away and the hazmat team comes in, Waldo and I rack up a rolling thunder point wave murder killing Curveball’s character which respawned in the same place every time. He died 344 times before the batteries ran out in his controller.

I don’t know what happened to Sook. I assume she’s in the woods somewhere drinking vodka Koolaid out of a milk jug.

Fucking Jugalos.

We’ll see what happens tomorrow.