*click*
Well. Here we are.
Listen, I’m really sorry about this whole thing. Why do we even go to these parties? I mean, think about the math. There’s like one, maybe two people I’d want to be in this closet with. The odds are not good. Especially when you consider we’re all asshole middle schoolers who kind of want to watch each other suffer.
No offense. I mean, you seem very sweet.
Yes, I always talk like this. You’re trapped in a closet with a hundred year-old man in a boy’s body. Really the worst of all worlds.
How long do you think it’s been so far? Like six and a half? Feels like we’re almost done. But if there’s one thing I know about time, it really changes depending on the situation. One time we were driving to the grocery store. It was really hot, and I was holding in a diarrhea. It only takes a couple minutes to get there, but man, let me tell you, that feels like forever when you’re sweating and you really want to diarrhea even if you have to do it at the gross grocery store bathroom. But I guess it’s gross because people only use it when they HAVE to, right? So it’s always a disaster?
Oh jeez. I’m sorry. It didn’t take me very long to get into a diarrhea story.
On the plus, if you want I could just tell diarrhea stories. It’s not really in the spirit of seven minutes in “heaven”, but I can fill the time. Boy, I could EASILY fill the time if we do bathroom stuff.
Is it bad that I can handle being smashed in a dark closet with a girl better talking about poop than I can making out? Do you think that’s normal?
Hey, maybe there’s some stuff in here. I think there’s a suit on this side. I don’t know what’s up on top. Oh. Board game. Okay, let’s open it and see if we can tell what game it is in the dark.
Haha, okay, that’s clearly Trouble. The Pop-O-Matic Bubble is a dead giveaway. Can we play Trouble in here? Is there…wait, you have to see the dice, right? Shit.
What other games do we have up here. Ow. Ow ow ow. I think that was a Monopoly piece. A pointy one. That iron maybe. Monopoly is no good in the dark.
Okay, they’re definitely screwing with us, right? Making us stay in here like a half hour?
Maybe we should get our stories straight. Do you wanna say we made out? Or we could say we talked about something. We could say we talked about something serious. That way nobody will give us a hard time. We’ll say we talked about my cat who died. That’s not real, but I think it’s okay to lie.
Let’s see. His name was. Let’s call him Trouble. Like the game.
Now I just have to make it look like maybe I almost cried. Can you, I don’t know, hit me in the stomach or something? Or slap me? Is there enough room? Let’s do the stomach. I have acne. You don’t want to slap my kind of acne.
Oof. Okay. Ooh. That was a good one. You’re good at punches.
Alright. Wow. Thanks. Here we go. Back to the party. I hope it’s fun out there still.