You grab the case of Diet Mountain Dew and head up to the front. You pay and exit the store. The sun forces you to squint as you stagger into the parking lot. After two steps you're struck by a car. Hard. You fly back.
When you open your eyes, you're surrounded by a group of people. In the distance you can hear an ambulance approaching. You reach for your head and feel crusted blood. The police start asking you questions, but you insist that you need to get home for a raid. Where is your soda? Where can it be? You force your way out of the circle only to find it open. Twelve cans, leaking and smashed, rest around the parking lot. You manage to collect two cans with only minor damage. That's enough. While stuffing them in your pocket, you check your watch. Fifteen minutes. You can sign on in time if you hurry home now. Without telling the police or the ambulance crew, you start running home.
Though the cans swing and slow you down, you manage to out maneuver the police. At home, you swing the door open and run straight up to your room, hit the power button, and watch it start up. Once it is started and you're logged in, you head downstairs to put the soda on ice. You open the cans open and pour them into a large glass. It tastes like piss, but at least you can focus on the game now. As the last few drops splash into the cup you take a closer glance on the can. Diet Caffeine Free Mtn Dew. Fuck
Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
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