Could Have Sworn I Was Forgetting Something

by thoughtsonthedead

088_inaction_std
“HEY! ASSHOLE!”

Excuse me?

“FORGET SOMETHING?”

Josh–

“John.”

–it’s been a rough day.

“Bowie.”

Bowie.

“Mourning over. You need to do something about this situation.”

Isn’t that thing self-sufficient?

“For several humans. Not for many Grateful Deads who–as far as I can understand–are now having a pooping contest.”

They get fixated on stuff.

“Please make the Grateful Dead stop pooping in my car. The exclusive Clean Cartridge™ is no longer clean.”

How many of them are there?

“A lot. All of the keyboardists are here.”

Oh. Don’t let them touch.

“Why?”

It would shred the fabric of reality.

“Oh.”

Like an enraged puma on silk sheets.

“Wow.”

Yeah.

“Lemme text you in a minute.”

Sure.

Advertisements