Friday, December 8

Mr. Happy Puppet Head bursts through the front door and slams it loudly behind him. He is yelling incoherently. He sounds happy and drunk. It's two in the morning and I'm sitting on the couch watching TV.

"Where were you?" I ask.

"Out," he goes into the kitchen and opens the door, checking for food. He finds the big pot of pasta I had made earlier, and I hear him slurp up the cold noodles in the next room. "Where's the beer?" he asks.

"We're out," I tell him. "Why didn't you call? You said you'd be home at nine. I made the pasta you asked for."

"Sure. Sorry." His mouth is full. "But man, tonight was awesome. I was hanging out with The Big Scary Monster and this dude Roboctopus and his friends Potato and Patti. We went over to this big abandoned warehouse and we started setting boxes on fire. Big ol' cardboard boxes."

"I don't like you hanging out with The Big Scary Monster."

"Yeah, so Potato said we shouldn't, and Patti said she'd tell on us, but we said we knew where they lived. Stupid kids. So we set all these boxes on fire and the cops came and so we ran, but Potato fell and I think they got him. He better not tell or I'm gonna beat him up."

There's a brief silence as we look at each other. He wants me to tell him how funny he is.

"Isn't that funny?" he asks.

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