You hand over the laptop and beg him to not hurt you. You also piss your pants. The dude laughs as he walks away. Even after he turns the corner onto the main road, you can still hear him mocking you and your high-pitched voice. The warm fluid trickles down your leg, but it doesn't matter. You just lost a year's worth of work and your entire portfolio. It's too late to back that stuff up now. You're hopeless with nothing to show. You are truly worthless. If you had a real job, you'd get fired from it now.
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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