Law And Disorder

“Hey Bub,” said Bread, “We need to talk.”

He said this as he planted himself in front of my chair, thus blocking my view of the TV, and gave me the hairy eyeball. And in his case, his eyeball actually is hairy, making this particular stare all the more effective as a method of conveying curious anger to others. Startled out from the mesmerizing view on the screen, it took me a moment or two to refocus on who was talking to me.

This did not improve Bread’s mood.

“Bub, what the frick is wrong with you lately?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“I mean your fricking site, ya moron.”
“What’s wrong with my site? Did I get comment spammed to death again?”
“No. But at least that would be fricking interesting!”
“Hey! Are you trying to say I’m not interesting anymore?”
“Bub, you’re so far from interesting I can’t believe you’re able to convince your fricking heart to fricking beat without bribery!”
“That… That’s… That…”
“Yeah?!”
“That’s the dumbest analogy I’ve ever heard!”
“Oh yeah?! Then try this one on for size; Your Blog is about as interesting and funny as the turd I left in your box of Apple Jacks! How you like ‘dem apples?!”

I was flabbergasted.

“I don’t believe it.”
“Well, believe it Bub! It was a nice smelly one, too. And even though it might look it, I know for a fact I didn’t eat any corn in the last few days…”
“No, no, no. Not that. I knew about that already. I’m talking about the other thing. You really don’t think I’m funny anymore? Really?”
“Bub, last time I looked, no one thought writing ‘lunchity-lunch-lunch’ was funny. Not even a little bit.”

That hit too close to home for my taste.

“That was just an off day. I’ll get better real soon, you’ll see.”
“Oh yeah, sure. NOT!”
“How can you be so cruel?”
“Get off the can and face the music, Bub. Your writing’s gotten so bad lately it reminds me of the time you were so obsessed with that fricking game I kept beating you at that you stopped doing anything else but playing it for a week.”
“Heh. Funny you should bring that up…”
“I mean, if I didn’t know better I’d swear you wuz playing Halo 2 even though you swore to your friends that you wouldn’t open your copy of the game until such time as they could all come to your house and play with you.”
“Ah… Bread…”
“And looking up there at the shelf I can see that your copy of Halo 2 is still in its shiny wrapper.”
“Uh, right. But…”
“So, what the frick is wrong with you that your writing has taken long walk off a short pier?”

Sighing, I pointed at the TV.

“Holy Juan Valdez on a greased up pogo stick! Is that what I think it is?”
“Yeah, Bread. It is.”
“You’re playing Halo 2?! Without your friends?! More importantly, without me?!”
“Well, I thought a month and a half head start was good enough for everyone else, so I just…”
“Wait a second here, Bub. Don’t tell me you bought a second copy of Halo 2 just so you could play it.”
“Not exactly.”

Bread looked about ready to kill me, so I hastily wiped the condescending smile from my face and explained.

“You know how Mr. ModChip came with all those games pre-installed?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Well, it turns out that I can actually add games to his hard drive! So I went out and borrowed a friends copy and then copied it to the hard drive and…”

A look passed across Bread’s face so quickly that I nearly missed it. Something that I hadn’t seen on his face in all the years that I’ve known him, a look that I was hard pressed to describe until I recalled the look on my mothers face the day when I finally managed to walk and chew gum at the same time.

Bread was impressed.

“Bub, that’s pretty slick of you.”
“Thanks Bread.”
“But what about your friends? Won’t they be pissed that you’re playing the game without them?”
“I don’t know, Bread. I mean, technically I’m still following the rules, you know?”

By this time Bread had managed to dig out another controller from a box and was plugging it into Mr. ModChip.

“Bub, I’m not following you.”
“I never said I wouldn’t play Halo 2 without them. I just said I wouldn’t open my copy of the game. And since my copy is right there on the shelf still wrapped in its wrapper…”

Bread smiled.

“Bub, you would make one hell of a sleazy lawyer.”
“Wow. You really think so?”
“Yeah Bub, I do.”
“Thanks.”
“Welcome. Now shut up and check your six, ‘cause I think you’re about to receive your first rocket enema of the day!”

And so I did.