This chapter really doesn't have much to do with the last chapter, but it's got the same sort of spirit, so I decided not to make it another story. It's kind of short, and once again based on actual events.
Chugging Mints
'I dare you to chug these mints,' Roger challenged Mark, one hot summer day as they hung about the loft.
Mark glanced at the pack of breath mints his friend held. There were about thirty of them in a tiny tin can, very small and, oddly enough, shaped like trucks. 'Where did you get those?' he inquired.
'That guy at the auto shop down the street gave them to me.'
'Roger,' Mark signed. 'How many times have I told you not to accept candy from strangers?'
'Mints don't count as candy!' Roger countered.
'Do, too,' Mark replied.
'Do not,' Roger argued.
'Do, too!'
'Do not!'
'Do, too!'
'I dare you to chug them!' Roger repeated.
'Fine!' Mark responded, and reached for the tin can. Roger suddenly recoiled.
'No!' he said.
'What?'
'No. They're my mints!'
Mark sighed once more. 'But I was gonna chug them.'
'But they're mine. I don't want to waste them. I mean, they're shaped like trucks...'
'Fine,' Mark huffed. The two friends sat in silence for about twenty minutes. Then...
'Wait a minute,' Mark said. 'How do you chug mints?'
FIN!
