Patrick clangs shut the front doors, waiving
to the authoritative teachers and heads off the black top to the yellow monkey
bars. Dave and Dave sit on the pinnacle of the top, mustard chipped rim.
Stories echoing through their lips like steam from the nozzle of a kettle. No
dice necessarily needed. Just directions pinched with verbal requests. Hale is nodding
his head and telling Dave Vons what he would most like to do next. As Patrick
expands his limbs and pushes himself up and over the chipped yellow rungs to
the top he hears Hale shouting out the words Fire and Brimstone at the top of
his lungs.
“It’s raining.”
“Shit.” The game momentarily
pauses.
“So Pat man what happen in there?”
says Von Behren.
“Oh, according to Mr. Mooney I’m on
disciplinary probation. If I get caught using vulgarity out loud one more time
either this year or next I get suspended for three days.”
“It’s not like Mr. Mooney didn’t
potty-mouth the basketball team after they almost lost the Mt. Zion
Invitational.”
“Fucking hypocrite.” Sneers
Patrick. “Fucking hypocrite.”
“I believe you mean Hucking
Fippocrite,” Adds VonBehren, whose parents taught him that a four-letter word
is really a footprint of the devil.
“Patrick do not let him get to
you.” Hale says. “I mean. Think about it, what does Mr. Mooney know that we
don’t.”
“So what just transpired?” Patrick
inquires, digressing from the conversation.
“Alright,” begins Von Behren,
“We’ll momentarily leave Orgon and Toad stranded in the 23rd Limbo and adjourn
to our story.”
“Is everyone resting after our
war?”
“They’ve all been on furlough, yes.
Iron Horse and Dakota North have even been sharing a bedroom at the DC suites
while everyone is relaxing in the team mansion.”
Patrick’s face lights up at the
notion of Dakota and Iron Horse.
“We’ll Dave,” Patrick’s face looks
into the shredded wood below, “You know, have we…..” Patrick tips his elbow
into David’s stomach and winks two times in a row.”
Hale says very matter-of-factly
that the proper word for that is called having an affair people.
“Patrick, of course. You and Dakota
North are both consenting adults.”
Patrick’s arms form a Y in
exuberation. He shouts out the word yes, pronouncing the s like a long z.
“But is Dakota North really Dakota
North?”
“What?” Cries Patrick as Dave
continues to spoon feed sexual anecdotes about Col. Iron Horse blowing his wad
time and time again, and Dakota’s finger nails biting into the back of his
darkly tanned Native American skin. Until, finally, after eight hours or so of
sexual ardor Dakota North’s lips keeps reaming out the name of Iron horse until
her head pops off.
“Then what happens?”
Hale says the word duh, informing
Patrick that no, her head actually did indeed fly off.
“WHAT!!!!!”
“Dakota North is not really a
Dakota North, she is an android.”
“WHAT!” Patrick is going out of
control. His eyes bobbing in their sockets like numbered ping-pong balls on a
televised lotto.
“Are you telling me I just blew my
thoroughly pent up Native American ethnic wad inside of an Android!!!”
Hale tells him that Von Behren has
already told him that the proper word for that is not android, rather,
Surrogate Human Imitative Trader.
“SHIT!”
“That’s exactly right.”
“So where’s Dakota?”
“How do you know there ever was a
Dakota?”
“But Dave, there has to have been a
Dakota. I was like madly in love with her.”
“Maybe you were just in love with a
bunch of wires and finely groomed sheet metal.”
“Patrick-do you know how to say the
word SONY?” Hale mocks.
“Damnit Dave she can’t be a
S.H.I.T. I was like madly in love with her.”
“Correction, you were like madly in
love with her.”
“Patrick, can you say I want to
make love to my walk man, Patrick.” Ornery Hale says pursing his lips and
planting invisible kisses.
“Damnit Dave—why not have Maxima be
a S.H.I.T. as well.”
“Patrick, I bet having an affair
with Dakota North was like plugging an extension cord into the eyes of a socket
and then getting a cheap shock-was that all Dakota North was Patrick-a cheap
shock?”
“Must have been a short extension
cord. Dave, I didn’t realize the Smurfs made extension cords? Did you?”
Dave says something to the extent of what do you expect they
live in a mushroom village to which neither Dave nor Patrick responds.
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