"Oh my fucking hell, Bro. We do not need another pit stop at the Braj Stop. And when I say 'pit stop' I fucking mean PIT STOP, I don't want six more solid hours
in the cold recess of doom that is the Lil Bro Playtime Corner Pit.", Dave ranted. The rant is solid, the glaring hot sun approves. The sun will soon melt his rant;
this is how science works.
Bro simply shrugged and continued walking down the sidewalk. He stopped for one moment to take a deep breath, staring up at the taunting sun through his
incredibly anime- esque shades. So yellow and majestic, Bro thought. It's the color of piss, Dave thought. He was considering running back to the apartment,
back through the lobby, and through the one elevator that wasn't shitty like the rest. The Alpha Dog Elevator would take him up, he thought. Up to air
conditioner paradise.
((at this point the author's bookcase partially collapsed and scared the shit outta her))
Dave didn't even care if he was clumsy and annoyed his neighbors like always. What the hell did they do? Jack off all day? File paperwork? Fuck them.
"Daaaave. Dave. Are you there?"
Eyes flip open, red pupils exposed, consiousness regained. Dave Strider was no longer spaced out.
"That's our ride.
Ugh, Dave thought. The shitty bus, full of daily city slosh. Except for that one guy Jones. He has a guitar and a tongue full of sick beats. The highlight of a hazy
Saturday. It's Tuesday. In this time I could've sprinted like Sonic on crack cocaine back to my glorious abode and made myself comfortable. It would be so sick
and twisted it would be fuckin' winter and the whole of Mother Russia would be jamming with their cold- ass shit nipple selves. I would control time moving that
fast, he mentally noted as he boarded the bus and sat next to his bro. The archive of mental notes was reaching full capacity, it was almost time to start a fire.
Too bad the notes were all written with a diamond stylus on platinum. One hell of a fire that would be.