CHAPTER 3: BUSINESS IS BOOMING, PART 2
A downtrodden economy is a plight that serves the purposes of no one. Money is a resource that cannot remain stagnant and unmoving, but must be carried out in a continuous flow for everything around it to flourish. Just as life itself is not meant to stagnate, moving in a circle or a cycle, money must do the same.
Unfortunately, the human element of greed is what always causes it to stall and disrupt the productive cycle; this is an issue that the cycle of life does not have, no equivalent of avarice which halts the promotion of growth that occurs within its own existence, unless you stretch your argument to include the man-made concepts of birth control or murder, but even when doing so will not match the damage of greed.
It is this problem that makes money often scapegoated as the root of all evil, but how can this be when money is nothing more than a material object with no thoughts, will, or feelings of its own? Why is it that money is conflated with evil when it merely exists, just as life itself does?
The problem is a lack of balance: When there is either too much money, or not enough.
When there is too much money to be found, there are no problems to be held for the individual with it. There is no hunger or otherwise physical ail for this person to ward off; such issues have been paid away. But there is now an introduction of boredom, bred by all physical needs having been met, and the human desire for conflict being steered towards other avenues to ward off this new issue.
For the rich, it becomes a game, a need to simply get rid of their money, but at the same time not to the point where they lose all of it. So the money they have is wasted on making some of the most complex and illogical ways to pass their time and spend their money, all in the goal of fulfilling both their greed and boredom.
On the flip side, there is also the issue of there not being enough money, leading to the issue of poverty. It is a direct result of the other coming into existence, and vice versa. It comes when there is no means to afford the resources and requirements for survival, and discontent is brought to the poor who cannot make any means to live.
From here, two options are left for the impoverished:
Seek unethical and illegal means to obtain what is needed...
...or leave their homes in search for another location to find resources they need.
The people of Ocean Shores have largely taken to the latter of the two options, for their city is too peaceful a place for any of them for them to turn on each other for survival. In droves have the citizens left, looking elsewhere for providence where their monetary ills may be satisfied.
This exodus has led to not only less money cycling around Ocean Shores, but less avenues for it to circle, leading to less movement and exasperating the problem.
And this sickness has not just spread across the city of Ocean Shores, but now reached to its very core. A body cannot fight its disease in any isolated spot without the disease spreading to the heart and brain, and it just the same that poverty has reached the government of Ocean Shores as well, where the mayor is forced to try to resolve this dilemma with his aides.
Sitting in the office of Ocean Shores' town hall, mayor George Milligan is hard at work to try to fix his city's problems, a job he has been working on for the past decade. However, with an issue this large and unprecedented, this mayor re-elected many times over has found the first problem of his political career that not only seems impossible to surmount for his constituents...
...but with very few citizens left to call constituents, solving the problem feels more like trying to close up the bar after closing the business once and for all.
And Ocean Shores is no business, but a city, and the livelihoods of many are depending on his efforts.
"Mayor Milligan, our deficit's gone all the way up to 100 million now. We're running low on options to handle the budget." An aide said.
"But we just balanced the budget a few months ago! We were supposed to be in the green for at least the next year!" George Milligan said.
"The cutting we've been doing hasn't been enough. We've had at least 3 more businesses move out in the past month alone. We're running out of people to tax."
"Then can't we just raise it some more?"
"We've already raised our taxes above what the next towns over have. Any more than that, and you're just begging for people to leave." Another aide said.
"Then what about closing some more schools or police departments?"
"Sir, we're literally down to only one school and police department for the entire city, and even those are strictly underfunded. The police and teachers' unions have been up our ass about their pay cuts."
"Damn! How are we supposed to come up with some more revenue for the city? We've poured everything we can into tourism and recreation for as long as we've been here, and now we can't pay people to come down here! Is this how my career is supposed to go down?! To be the man who drove Ocean Shores into bankruptcy?!"
"Mr. Mayor, sir, it may not be a complete loss. If the city falls into bankruptcy, you may be able to file for municipal dissolution, and all debts will get get transferred to the county. You could use that as a scapegoat if you want to find work elsewhere." A different aide said.
The mention of the dissolution of government brought the talkative, busy room to a complete stop, all staring at the one who suggested the idea, with the mayor looking on his aide with shocked, widened eyes. The very idea of a city being shut down and disbanded is an extreme scenario that very little can perceive, and it is especially one that the mayor does not take with excitement or praise.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?! That's even worse! Yeah, the man who wiped Ocean Shores off the map, sure a great way to make the history books, I'm guaranteed to win my re-election that way, you fucking idiot!" George Milligan shouted.
"W-Well, sir, you said it yourself, sir. We're in the red as far as our city budget goes, and we've got no immediate source of revenue for our town. Hell, the fucking Good Burger is the only thing that hasn't closed, that and Zero Gravity Zone, and those two aren't enough to fund an entire city. We've been working day and night, but we haven't found any avenues for us to take. There's literally no way out for us." The aide stammered.
Cowardice is what shows out from the aide's words, carrying a subtext that pleaded for him to keep his job, but the message nonetheless had rung true for the mayor and his cabinet. It is human persistence that keeps them fighting to the end, but, in this instance, the end is still ever-present and it cannot be stalled any longer.
Like very few politicians of his kind, George Milligan can at least face his end with a bow, beginning with a nod of his head.
"I think you're right. I can't see a way out of this, either. For how many years, I've been running this town, I've been making it one of the best tourist spots in the country, and this is how it all ends." George Milligan said.
Pulling out a drawer, George Milligan pulled out a bottle of whisky and a glass, pouring himself a drink and gulping it down.
"Oh, well. I guess the fun has to run out sometimes. So here's one to the death of fun, eh, boys? To the death of fun!" George Milligan shouted.
Pouring another glass, the mayor drank it down, preparing to pour another one before another aide came to stop him.
"Sir, please. You don't wanna do this. At least try to maintain some dignity." The aide said.
"Oh, fuck off, this is my... what, 7th drink today? I feel fine!" George Milligan protested.
"Sir, please! You're still the mayor! At least try to act like it!"
Succumbing to his aide, the mayor set down his glass, attempting to return to sanity as much as he could in his drunken stupor.
"Okay, okay. You're right. I just don't wanna say goodbye to this town. I love this city so much. I'd do anything to make her better again. Hell, I'd suck Satan's cock right now just for a chance to sell my soul for it." George Milligan said.
"You don't have to go through all that trouble, Mr. Mayor." A voice said.
The entirety of the office turned to look to the new voice in the room, coming to the sight of the millionaire and last few remaining sources of income for the city: Alex Gravity, owner of Zero Gravity Zone. Standing in the doorway with his typical youthful posture and kind smile, he continued his greeting to the mayor, saying...
"I think we can work out a deal without the supernatural getting involved, and in a way where everyone wins. Oh, I'm not interrupting anything important, am I?" Alex Gravity asked.
"'Lex! No, no, come in! We could use you at the table right now." George Milligan said.
Pulling up a chair across from the mayor, Alex Gravity seated himself across from the elected official, speaking as one ruling force to another.
"So, I come to pay my representative a visit, and I come at a time that looks like one of the worst I've seen for my favorite mayor. Really in it deep this time?" Alex Gravity asked.
"Oh, I can't lie to you, 'Lex, it's not looking good. There's just not enough people left in Ocean Shores to even have an Ocean Shores, and our deficit's never been worse." George Milligan said.
"How worse?"
George Milligan pointed to one of his aides, who answered the question for him.
"100 million. Estimated." The aide said.
"Whatever. Point is, we're in deep shit. We've been contemplating municipal dissolution. Please, listen to me when I say this, 'Lex, but I absolutely did not want to go this route, and I was doing everything that I can to make sure we didn't get to this point, but I don't have a choice anymore. You've been great business for the town for so long, but we don't even have a town anymore. Everybody's gone, and nobody wants to come down to us. We're done." George Milligan said.
"Hold on a moment, did you say 100 million?" Alex Gravity said.
"That's right, 'Lex. I don't know how we're going to come up with that kind of..."
As the mayor attempted to let out his pitiful, half-drunken woes, Alex Gravity took out his checkbook and began writing a check.
"Wait... 'Lex, what are you doing?" George Milligan asked.
Alex Gravity then tore out the completed check and handed it to the mayor, letting him take the check and read it. Still confused as to why he was suddenly written a check, his realization had come, alongside a surprise and relief follow with it, once he read the sum written out on the check:
100 million dollars.
"That should cover it, right?" Alex Gravity asked.
"L... 'Lex... Are you really doing what I think you're doing?" George Milligan asked.
"If you're asking if I'm trying to foot the bill for you, the answer is 'no'. But if you're asking me if I'm buying something, then the answer is 'yes'."
The response gave shocked and confused looks from all present in the room, save for the one who made it, bringing an awkward silence which lingered for a period of time that seemed to last longer than it truly was. Eventually, the silence was broken by the mayor once again, asking for more details regarding the check.
"I... I don't understand, 'Lex. What do you mean, you're 'buying something'? Are you saying you want to buy the city?" George Milligan asked.
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying." Alex Gravity replied.
The room once again went through a period of silence, all trying to decide what to make of this unusual offer.
"But... Why do you want to buy Ocean Shores? How do you want to buy Ocean Shores?" George Milligan asked.
"The 'why' is a long story, because I have big plans for this city. As for 'how', I have a plan laid out here." Alex Gravity said.
The millionaire then reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a document, placing it on the desk for George Milligan to read. As the mayor picked up the paper and began reading it over, his legal aides coming to read it alongside him, Alex Gravity continued his pitch.
"As you've already explained, most businesses and homeowners have moved out of the city completely. That leaves the abandoned properties becoming assets of the local government, i.e., you. If I buy you out, then, in the event of a municipal dissolution, the assets would not be transferred to the local county, but, instead, to me to do whatever I want with. Now, of course, I assume you're also concerned regarding the few remaining people in Ocean Shores. I have my own plans for that, none of which concern you. All you have to worry about is what to do regarding your early retirement." Alex Gravity explained.
The proposal is still not one that mayor George Milligan is comfortable following through on, leading him to read the document carefully still, and inquire the offer further.
"B-But no one's ever done anything like this before. There would be all kinds of legal challenges that come up, especially from the remaining residents." George Milligan said.
"I'm prepared to take on the legal challenges. I have an army of lawyers ready to go. They're the ones who drafted this for me. As for the riffraff still here, well... I don't see many jobs left around here for them to work, and that leaves them without a lot of money for lawyers. They'd be better off just moving out, and they know that. They won't be an issue." Alex Gravity said.
Having read the document and heard Alex Gravity's case, Mayor George Milligan scratched his chin in contemplation, slowly becoming swayed on taking the offer.
"Well, Mr. Mayor? Don't you think this is a good offer? A nice way to end your career and rest comfortably here thereafter? Leave Ocean Shores into the hands of someone who loves the city, too, and has plans to make it better?" Alex Gravity asked.
The time that Mayor George Milligan has spent looking on the paper before him is longer than he has spent towards any other single document throughout his career, spending less time on bills and ordinances that have reached his desk, marking this moment as the pentultimately most important in his career.
As said before, if he must go out with Ocean Shores, it must be with a bow.
Taking a pen off his desk, he signed the document, bringing a satisfied smile to Alex Gravity. With the business deal now concluded, the two shook hands to confirm it.
"Mr. Gravity, 'Lex, you just bought yourself a city for the first time in American history." George Milligan said.
"Once the rest of everyone else goes, then it will be mine for sure. Until then, perhaps we should have a toast, for a better tomorrow?" Alex Gravity asked.
"You're goddamn right, we should."
Taking out another glass from his desk, the mayor poured two glasses of whiskey, handing the other to Alex Gravity as he took his own refilled cup. Raising his glass to Mayor George Milligan, Alex Gravity's glass gently clashed with his, making a light 'clink' sound.
"To a successful deal." George Milligan said.
"To a successful business deal... and continued business." Alex Gravity said.
Continued and successful business is what the two oligarchs drink to, but the concept is far from being able to find for the small eatery known as the Shore Shack. Having fewer and fewer customers to tend to, there is no reason for the restaurant to remain open for longer than needed, leading the owners to close early to cut heightening business costs.
The tables are cleaned, the dishes and utensils washed, the fryers are emptied and emptied of any crumbs, and all trash is disposed of, leaving all of the closing duties complete. There is now no reason for anyone to remain in the restaurant at all, and nothing left for the owners to do but depart and return tomorrow to open again...
...but Ray Rocket does not leave yet. Instead. he leaned against the edge of one of the pillars of the building's entrance, staring off into the sea on the boardwalk. Paying no particular mind to the natural phenomenon of waves crashing, only listening to their calming noises, he was deep in contemplation, worried about the future and well-being of himself, and his family, just as any concerned father would be.
Taking notice of his best friend's deep contemplation, Tito tapped a gentle hand on his shoulder, getting Ray's attention.
"Hey, Ray." Tito said.
"Hmm? Oh, hey, Tito. What's wrong?" Ray asked.
"You tell me, brotha."
"What?"
"You were staring off into space, looking like you were having a moment."
"No, I wasn't."
"Ancient Hawaiian saying; 'The coconut with the strongest-looking shell is truly the weakest.'"
Once again, Ray did not understand the riddle shared by his best friend, looking back at him like a dog after being shown a card trick.
"...I don't get it." Ray said.
Letting out a sigh, Tito, needing to find a way to convey his message in a way that his friend would understand, rephrased his words to a less cryptic message.
"Brotha, you still beat yourself up for Otto not being as successful as Reggie." Tito said.
"No, I don't. I just-" Ray began to say.
"You just think that if you had tried a little harder to help Otto to succeed, he wouldn't have run off, right?"
Ray displayed hesitance at the challenge of answering his friend's question, not prepared to let out the answer, choosing to simply nod to convey his feelings.
"Yeah. I always was kind of hard on Otto, but I was just trying to help him learn responsibility. Noelani tried to help me in some areas, but I just was never too good at this parenting stuff. I mean, I get where he's coming from, if I had the choice, I'd wanna just skate and surf all day, too, but I can't. I'm a grown man with responsibilities." Ray said.
"Hey, you just tried your best. We all do. Besides, Otto's a real wild child. You know how much trouble that boy used to get in? Oh, I'm glad you weren't a spanking dad, because he would've had a bottom redder than the flames of a volcano itself for what he used to pull."
"I'm not gonna lay a hand on my kids like that, Tito. Someone who tries to mess with my kids, definitely, but not on them. I love them too damn much to hurt them at all. I've been spanked, you know. I've seen the faces on my own dad as he did it. It's not about punishment. It's about power. I didn't want Otto or Reggie to feel like that. I wanted them to be my best friends, and I wanted to be their best friend, to share my childhood with my best friends. Reggie turned out just fine, but Otto... Ah, I can't help but feel like I set him on the wrong path."
"Maybe he just needs a little time on his own right now. We all need a little bit of that when we're young men, because we're not men yet. We're still just boys. We get a little out there and have fun, but we all come back sooner or later. That's how you and I were, and look at us. We turned out to be successful business owners, and make millions of people in Ocean Shores happy with a good meal in their bellies. Ain't no success story better than that."
Agreeing with Tito's points, Ray nodded along, taking some level of reassurance that his troubles were not as bad as they seemed.
"Yeah. I guess you're right." Ray said.
But after a moment of silence, thinking over the situation with Otto and their broken father-son relationship, Ray felt an idea to fix his problem come to his head, making his eyes light up in delight. Turning back to Tito, he began explaining his plan aloud to plot it out more coherently.
"Hey, maybe he does need a little time with us. With all of us. A mini-family reunion." Ray said.
"Uh, brotha, you haven't even spoken to Otto in a long time. Are you sure that's a good idea?" Tito asked.
"Tito, maybe this whole thing's come between us because we haven't talked in a long time. Maybe if we just sat down and talked with him, I could actually get this through to him. "How about we invite Otto and Reggie over for dinner just as a way to get everyone back together?"
"Eh, I don't know, brotha. It might be better if we try to give them a little more time, you know? They're not kids anymore, they've got their own lives now. If Otto's not ready to talk again, maybe you should let him go for a bit before you-"
"You get to cook. And you can make us some Hotdurgers."
More than happy to hear the good news that he would prepare his favorite dish for the entire family, Tito stopped in his tracks of his sentence, turning his position on the matter around entirely over a subject that took greater precedent to him. Always a lover of food and cooking, the chance to cook for the people he loves is one he cannot deny.
"You know what? Maybe a little family togetherness is what the little cuzes need. You get the grilling supplies, I'll get the food!" Tito shouted.
Before Tito could run off to make good on his plans to prepare a cookout, Ray stopped him in his tracks with a hand on his shoulder.
"Uh, Tito, I didn't mean now. I have to clean out the garage today. I meant we could plan it out ahead of time, like tomorrow or the day after." Ray explained.
Coming to terms with reality once again, Tito's excitement died down to a reasonable level, feeling some embarrassment from his initial reaction.
"Oh, uh... Right. Sorry, brotha." Tito said.
"No problem. I'm gonna call Reggie and ask her, do you know Otto's number?" Ray asked.
"You don't have his number?"
"He never told it to me. I didn't know if he told you or not."
"Uh, no."
"Oh. Look, tell you what, I'll call Reggie, you think you can go to Otto's place and ask him if he's available?"
"Yeah, that I can do. I'll go get him now."
Preparing to depart on his mission, Tito once again stopped, having one final obstacle in his way to it.
"Uh, brotha, please tell me you at least got his address." Tito said.
"Yeah, hang on." Ray said.
Going to register, Ray took a notebook and tore out a page, writing down the address on the paper, subsequently handing it to Tito after.
"Here. It's a way across town, but it should be easy to find." Ray said.
Reading the address of Otto's house, Tito raised an eyebrow, finding suspicion with the street name written down.
"Uh... Brotha, he lives at the corner of Klasky and Csupo?" Tito asked.
"Yeah, why?" Ray asked.
"Have you ever been down there? That's the worst part of town. The houses there are horrible, and nobody goes down there except the bad kids."
"Oh, come on, Tito. Ocean Shores has always been a beautiful place with beautiful people. Granted, most of them are gone, but, if most people are gone, that means most of the bad people are gone, too. What's the worst that Otto's place could look like?"
[Soundtrack Cue: KMFDM - Virus (Dub)]
Across the town lies the poor neighborhood in question, existing as the closest thing to a slum that the once rich town of Ocean Shores has. It is a nearly empty suburb, with many of the houses of poor design and upkeep, and often used as a getaway for delinquents to indulge in illegal activities such as underage drinking or drug use.
The windows to the houses have almost all been smashed open, and many do not even have doors any more to keep out unwanted squatters. The neighborhood, if it can even be called a neighborhood, is a complete free-for-all, with no investors or homeowners coming within a mile of the place.
Among the empty houses, there rested one single house still holding residents to its name, housing the two stoner extreme sports enthusiasts of Otto and Twister. Their home is a blight even among the poor neighborhood; the houses around them are but neglected and forgotten, but their home is a far cry from any acceptable domicile.
Having almost no money or job to their names and extreme sports and marijuana usage as their only interests, their house is a complete nightmare to any civilized person.
Moldy fast and frozen food containers littered the floor, collecting bugs and other house pests like the occasional rat, alongside unclean and unwashed laundry resting on the floor and furniture, all still covered with sweat and urine. Tissues hard and crusty from dried semen filled the one trash bin that existed within the house, with many of the tissues being re-used to save money.
These unspeakable horrors of neglectful housekeeping and a lack of basic sanitary standards are but the beginning of their home's troubles; the toilet was suffering the worst of it all, coated in several layers of crusted fecal matter and urine stains, a ring rested in the bowl that was as bright pink as bubble gum, and the toilet itself emitted an unholy smell rivaling the Bog of Eternal Stench.
Any sane human being would immediately take to work on trying to right these wrongs, or perhaps run for the hills, but Otto and Twister have done nothing of the sort. Instead, the filth is ignored and distracted by graffiti sprayed on the walls, alongside posters for sports heroes and B-movies plastered about, and even now they are more concerned with other matters than their own home.
Within the poorly-maintained house, the two skaters sat around lethargically, with Otto rewatching Surf Nazis Must Die on the couch, coming to the film's climax.
"Taste some of momma's home cookin', Adolf!" The movie said.
Watching the film's protagonist murder the final antagonist with the cheesy one-liner, Otto gave a snicker and a smile, enjoying his film comfortably.
"Never gets old." Otto said.
Conversely to Otto's indulgence of the obscure B-movie's finale, Twister was sitting at the computer, waiting for their latest video on NewTube to go popular and hopefully generating enough advertisement revenue to make their big break as a sports team... or at least cover their basic expenses.
Otto's current state is one of relaxation, while Twister's is an obsessive stare at the computer, his eyes glued to the LCD screen and carefully watching the view count.
[Soundtrack Cue End]
"Twist, any more hits on NewTube yet?" Otto asked.
"Yeah, dude, we got 500 more views this past minute!" Twister said.
"Besides the ones we got from you hitting the 'refresh' button?"
"Oh... in that case, no."
Annoyed with their latest video receiving no attention and, in turn, his talents not being recognized, the worst of the two offenses to Otto, he let out a loud, annoyed groan, jumping off of the couch. Unable to understand their troubles, he paced back and forth across the room, stepping on unfinished food and trash while deep in thought.
"Goddamnit, what the fuck are we doing wrong?! Skating fans would eat this stuff up! I perform the stuff of legends, and nobody cares! What is this world coming to?!" Otto shouted.
"Maybe nobody really likes to watch skating anymore, Otto. All I see on NewTube now is stuff like gameplays and cartoons. Not good cartoons where those crazy animals beat each other up, like, those ones where all those losers whine about their crappy lives." Twister said.
"C'mon, Twister, no one in their right mind would want to watch that crap. Who in their right mind would watch someone else play a video game when they can do it themselves?"
"I don't know, the same reason they watch us because they can't do the sports themselves?"
"That's different. Nobody can do the kind of stuff I do. Anybody can play a video game. Just grab a controller and play, even a retard like you could figure that out. Maybe we oughtta take Sam's advice and go digital."
"No way! I'm not getting rid of my VHS camcorder! That camera's way too important to me!"
"You don't have to get rid of it, dude, you just have to film with something else. It's just so we can get a little more money."
"I don't want to, dude, I've filmed every stunt I've ever seen with this camera. I can't just put her down."
"Twist, come on, man. We're clearly not doing something right, and we gotta try something else. It's just a new camera. What's so disheartening about a fucking camera that you can't bring yourself to use it?"
"The new cameras just have way too many buttons and weird stuff, and I can't figure out how to use half of them. It's way too much work, it's like they program that shit to take you to the moon or something. Why do people have to redesign things so many times to add other crap that nobody uses? How about just let me film some tricks, and let that be it? If it's not broken, don't fix it."
"Twister, what we got is broken. The system is broken. We gotta do something different to fix it."
"But I thought you said you never wanted to change."
The unexpectedly good point made Otto stop in his argument with Twister, pausing to think of a response to his comment.
"Well, okay, maybe a little change. But we're still ultimately doing what we set out to do: Bring back skating, and make it awesome again. Just us against the whole system. No need for jobs or school or any of that crap, just live our best lives forever, right?" Otto asked.
"Okay, I guess you got a point." Twister said.
Extending their hands towards each other, they shared their age-old handshake of wiggling their fingers in one another's palms, saying...
"Woogity woogity woogity woogity!" The two said.
After the two friends concluded their handshake, a knock on the door was heard, causing the two to put their attention to it.
"I'll get it." Twister said.
Opening the door to their abhorrent abode, Twister found the unexpected guest to be Clio, his cousin and Otto's current girlfriend out of a revolving list of significant others.
"Hey, cuz." Clio said.
"Hey, Clio! Come to celebrate our new video?" Twister asked.
"Not really. I came for Otto. Hey, Otto."
Happy to see his significant other again, Otto gave Clio a hug and kiss, both actions being made far more personal than many would dare to give in public.
"Hey, baby. Daddy missed you." Otto said.
"Does daddy want a little sugar?" Clio asked.
Clio and Otto began to kiss passionately, making heavy usages of their tongues, all in front of Twister for him to see. Watching a display of personal affection between his best friend and cousin, the sight is not one he has any desire to see, all to his full disgust, making him avert his eyes and give a disgusted groan.
"Otto! Cilo! Are you trying to make me puke?" Twister asked.
"What's the matter, Twist? You going homo?" Otto asked.
"No, man, I just don't want to see you do that to my cousin. That's disgusting."
"Coming from the boy who lives in a pile of his own dirty underwear and cumrags." Clio quipped.
"I don't see you complaining about it. Will you two just get a room?"
Otto looked to Clio, contemplating on where to continue their actions, thinking of somewhere that Twister would not disturb them, or they would disturb Twister.
"You wanna continue this in the pool?" Otto asked.
"Sure. Bring a joint, will you?" Clio replied.
"Got you covered."
Reaching into a cigarette box laying on the computer desk, Otto took out a joint, Seeing the act as a waste of their marijuana, Twister immediately protested his decision.
"Hey, wait! That's our last joint! You, me, and Squid are supposed to smoke that the day after tomorrow! Doesn't 'bros before hos' mean anything anymore? Twister asked.
"I'm going to pretend you didn't just call me a 'ho', baby cousin." Clio said back.
"'Baby cousin'? We're like, the same age!"
"Fuck off, Twister. I just wanna get high and fuck." Otto said.
As Otto and Clio went outside to the pool, Twister's protests about the marijuana went unnoticed and ignored, leaving him alone in the computer room again. Once again made the butt of Otto's degrading remarks and actions, Twister felt a shame and embarrassment come over him, as if the friendship they shared had come under fire, or come under an uncomfortably shaky ground.
After letting out a frustrated groan, Twister went back to the computer, continuing to hit the 'refresh' button repetitively, hoping in vain to increase the attention of their video.