Derek sits at the kitchen table, sipping a strawberry smoothie. Casey is next to him in a furry pink robe and bunny slippers. She sips orange juice and flips through a Real Estate magazine.
"Honey?" she says sweetly.
"Yes, Casey?" he looks at her over his yellow bendy straw.
"We should buy a new house," she says whimsically. "One with a basement."
"What the hell do you need a new house for? This one is brand new, and has plenty of room for things that could go in a basement. We don't need another house. Or a basement, be realistic, goddammit. That shit is the first thing to flood with the smallest of rains," he scoffs.
He looks up and she's pouting in her purple robe. Purple, wait, what?
"Pretty please? With chocolate and cherries and whipped cream and nuts on top?"
He blinks and she's naked, covered in chocolate sauce and whipped cream and there are cherries on her chest, and his nuts –
"What – I fucking hate you," he says.
Derek sits in the driver seat of a moving truck, sipping away at a Starbucks takeout coffee. Casey is next to him in a white cotton shirt and sandals. She sips Fuze from a plastic bottle and flips through a fitness magazine.
"Honey?" she says hesitantly.
"Yes, Casey?" he sighs, keeping his eyes on the road like a good little driver.
"We should get a gym membership," she says through a mouthful of juice. "One that's unlimited, so we can go everyday together!"
"We just bought exercise equipment to put in the basement of our new goddamn house! How much fucking crap do you need, woman?" His fingers grow teeth and gnaw on the steering wheel. He stares at his hands in horror as she holds the magazine by the cover and lets the middle pages fold out. He briefly looks away from the mangled steering wheel to see a million foldout pages of thousand dollar exercise equipment.
"Jesus shit balls," he curses.
"Pretty please? With yoga mats and ankle weights and treadmills on top?"
"Why would I want a treadmill on top?" He blinks at her and she's in a sports bra and spandex shorts.
"…Please?" she adds, cradling the magazine like a baby.
"I hate you," he says, pulling off the highway to Gold's.
Casey walks down the driveway of their new home-with-a-basement to pick up the newspaper, orange juice in one hand and Fuze in the other.
Derek picks apart the shades and looks at her tie-dye pink and purple robe. She has whipped cream in her hair and she's wearing spandex shorts. She grows an arm to pick up the paper.
"Holy crap-happle," he mutters to the empty house.
Casey opens the front door and she's wearing a green sundress, flipping through a boating magazine.
"Honey?" she whines.
"What in the – fucking no, already!"
He throws a skillet at her face. It leaves an impression and he rips his hair out.
He wakes up naked with Casey cradling a baby. It has lobster claws for hands. He looks at his own hands and sees the teeth are back.
"Shut up," he says prematurely.
Casey turns and her eyes take up half her face – literally, they are the size of small saucers.
"Honey?" she begs.
He's suddenly standing and falls over through a rabbit hole that appears in the middle of the floor.
"I was late!" She shouts at him, holding up the baby for evidence.
"Lies! I used a condom!"
Derek wakes up in jeans and a t-shirt with his head in Kendra's lap.
"What the fuck kind of drugs am I on?" he asks her, thinking this must be the only logical conclusion. He coughs on the purple fumes wafting around him, blinking in the oddly bright glow of Christmas lights hanging on the wall across from him.
"Well – first you smoked a g, then we shot up some heroin, did a couple lines, took some meth, and you smoked a jack. I think you took some shrooms and ate some of Ralph's brownies, too. And then you got confused and started trying to shoot up with your own piss."
"How am I still alive?"
Kendra shrugs. "Beats me."
Derek sits up and looks to his left. Ralph sits on a couch across from them, drooling and itching his shoulder.
"What the hell happened to him?"
"We cut open his skull and ripped out part of his brain," Kendra smiles.
Derek blinks and Casey appears on the couch next to him, white covering her nose.
"Honayyy?" she slurs.
"Why won't you leave me alone?" he whimpers.
Derek sits at a bar, downing a shot of tequila. Casey is next to him in a leopard print underwear set and gold toe socks. She sips a martini from a glass and flips through a playboy magazine.
"Honey?" she questions.
"What," he gives in.
"We should have a threesome," she grins. He blinks and she's surrounded by two other girls in zebra and cheetah print underwear.
"I thought you said a threesome," he blinks. Another girl appears in snakeskin.
"I said a fivesome, silly! Well?"
He blinks and another girl appears.
"Okay, where do I sign up?" One of the girls winks at him and he smiles.
He blinks again. They all turn into ape-men.
"What the fuck?" he shouts.
"Let's get crackin', pretty boy!" They scratch their armpits and whip out a dozen bananas – only half of which are actually fruit.
"What! When can I catch a fucking break?"
Derek wakes up in his bed sweaty as hell. He blinks and nothing changes. He blinks some more.
And some more.
And some more.
Casey is nowhere in sight.
"Man," he whispers into the dark. "I am never eating one of Edwin's midnight snack creations ever again."
He sighs and closes his eyes.
When he opens them, Casey is standing next to him in a nightie with a Pottery Barn magazine.
"Honey?" she smiles.
He smiles back tightly.
"Kill me."
A/N: So on the list of things you shouldn't take seriously…
Disclaimer: Copyrighted material is not mine.