Friday, September 1, 2017

Mystical Connections

Jonah came into the break room. Which was weird since he practically lives there! But I kid.

"I have some chilling news," I said.

"We ran out of bagels? AGAIN??"

"Uh... no. There're some tootsie pops in that torn garbage bag, if you're that desperate."


"Anyway, remember how I told you about the novel I'm writing, about the cat? And in that novel there's a character who's based on Pat, to some degree?"

"Mm-maghmm." Jonah said suckfully. "I'm having a love affair with this tootsie pop!"

"I think that's a cabinet knob."

"Is it?"

"Anyway, in my novel I wrote about Pat and the many wondrous things about him, and at a certain point I wrote about the death of his pet starling."

"He has a bird?"

"Yes. A foul-mouthed one, in fact. So then, just days after I wrote about the bird dying in my novel, Pat tells me someone killed his bird by spraying aerosol through his bedroom window. Done by the same person, apparently, who wants Pat out of the neighborhood."

"Shit. Are you killing birds now?"

"I'm thinking there might be a mystical connection between my terrible fiction and reality."

"Please don't write about me. I still have the collected works of Hegel to get through!"


"And you're not going to write about me getting married are you?"

"Ah, on that topic, I finished the drawing of you and Willow. What do you think?"

"Is it finished?"

"Sure. Does it not look done?"

"Well, it's kind of shitty. And what's that on my shirt? It makes it look like I don't want to get married."

"Remember: art is a lie that tells the truth."

"Truthfully, I'm not going to take that lying down."

"Look, marriage is a beautiful thing."

"Don't do it!" came a beardy voice.

Todd came into the break room. He held out his gloved hands as if to ward off police brutality.

"Don't do it," he repeated. "You're too young to get married! Just chill and wait a few decades."

"Like you?" I said. "When are you getting hitched?"

"Sorry. Ain't happenin', hooker."

"But I want to go to a gay wedding!" I whined and stamped my foot.

"NEVER!" Todd cried, echoing through the building, and beyond.

"Look, look," Jonah said, stepping between us. "How about Willow and I have a gay wedding? Will that work?"

I looked at Todd. He looked at me.

"Yeah," we chimed.

"Great. Now who wants to help me finish off these cabinet knobs??"

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