Murray slammed down his walkie-talkie onto the table. He sipped his Moolatte furiously. "'Ey, Mac," the bartender (so to speak), Mr. Lawrence (MUAHAHAHA!), said as Murray was drinking. "Doug, you know my name is Joe. Why do you always call me Mac? It's so d annoying!" Mr. Lawrence gasped. "Whoa, Joe! Bad language, man!" The pair laughed and Mr. Lawrence sat down across form Murray. "How's Stephen doing? You two still good pals?" he asked. Murray grunted and replied, "Well, Steve and I have been diminishing our tolerances for each other lately." "Umm…so, you two are getting along?" Murray slapped his head. "No, Doug. We aren't." He hastily finished his beloved coffee and paid. The officer and creator ran out of Starbucks as if he were drunk. Well, maybe he was. You can never tell with that guy; he's just too crazy. I would know, I watch Rocko and Camp Lazlo (sometimes for the latter). Only a crazy person could make those shows.
"Dad? DAD! I'm home, you moronic boob!" Carole screamed as she entered her home. Starlight was "parked" in the backyard, and a car was pulling up into the driveway. "Great. Dad and Monica are here." Carole groaned and dashed upstairs and into her room. She heard her dad's laughter as he and "Big Butt" entered the house. Carole slammed the door and picked up her phone. She dialed Stevie's number. "Hello, this is Stevie." "Hi Stevie. Carole. Look, I need a place to crash for awhile until I'm ready to tell my dad what happened." "Okay. Lisa's house is on…" "I meant yours, Einstein!" "Oh…Carole, I'm going through a depressing mental crisis right now. You can't come here. And the only available room is Stevie's room, and no guests are allowed in there." Stevie really is going through a mental crisis! She's speaking in the third person! Carole thought. She hung up rudely and slapped her face. She jumped onto her bed, and eventually fell asleep.
"STEVIE!" Stephanie cried. She burst the door to his room open, but… "Stevie…"Stevie whispered. Stephanie looked at his heart monitor. The lines that showed his pulse were in a race-a race at cheetah-like speed. "Stevie, why did you do it? Why are you leaving me?" Stephanie pleaded. "I'm not a loser…I had to prove myself…Stevie," Stevie murmured. The monitor was going faster than ever. Stephanie looked at it and smiled. "Look Stevie! Your heartbeat is going up! You'll be okay!"(Hey, she's only nine years old!) Stevie let out a weak laugh. "No, I won't be, Stevie…" Stephanie growled. "YOU WILL! YOU WILL! AND STOP CALLING ME STEVIE, STEVIE!" Stevie just laughed again. He took his sister's hand. "I'm going to see Mom…you've got to be Dad's friend while I'm gone, Stephanie. You've got to be like I was. You've got to be Stevie." The heart monitor gave a low, eerie beep. And they all knew he was dead.