Rosa’s tits is time we could be spending taking down the Death Monkeys in D4D. That’s important to me. War is progress and it’s the kind of release I need after suffering the indignity of public education every day.”
“That was your choice,” Deron pointed out.
“I have tried finding other players,” he continued, ignoring the interruption, “but no one even approaches your skill level. You’re a killer at heart, no matter what your veneer says.”
“Lady-killer maybe,” said Deron, chuckling.
“However, as your best friend I understand that over the years I will become a second thought to any girl with a low-cut shirt and a tight ass.” He put his hand on his chest and sighed. “I’ve accepted that. So to keep myself in good spirits, I simply remember that you have a habit of reconciling your girlfriends in semi to fully nude states and that when you ingest a sufficient amount of illegal drugs, you tend to reproduce them subconsciously.”
Deron reconciled a blushing effect. “Whatever.”
Sebo’s sudden laughter made the couple sitting across from them look up. “It was only a month ago,” he said, reconciling a memory onto his palette. “I can’t believe Rosa never told you.”
“Told me what?”
“We were hanging out in your room,” he began, the scene appearing under his hand. It showed Deron’s bedroom, fuzzy but recognizable. The lights were out and the three of them were huddled around a low flame in the center of the room. An open window provided a breeze that made the light flicker. “Your mom was at some show, so we were smoking out.”
“Oh yeah,” said Deron, feigning recall. “I remember that night...”
“No you don’t. You crashed out early because you’re a woman and can’t handle your smoke. So Rosa and I are just sitting there making fun of you and then we notice the floor is changing colors, but we can’t make out what it is. She starts laughing her ass off and I drag you to the wall and put your hand on it.”
Deron closed his eyes and muttered, “Crap.”
“Crap is right. Rosa and I are about to lose it, but then you open your eyes and start staring at her like she’s your favorite stuffed animal.”
“What does that mean?”
Sebo waved the question away. “So I thought there was gonna be a show because you looked like you wanted to do her right then and there.”
“And?”
“You pussied out, of course. All you did was draw naked pictures of her on the wall.”
“So what? I reconciled the wall. Anyone can—”
“That’s the thing with you. You’re the only one I know who does it involuntarily. You know why I remember that night so well? Because after you stared at Rosa you turned the whole room into a shrine to her. And it was fast too.” Sebo pinched at an imaginary wall in front of them. “Boom, picture here, boom, tits there. And perfect detail too, way beyond your skill level. Of course, when Rosa saw what you were doing, she went to the wall and started reconciling something else. You guys fought it out for a long time.”
“Why didn’t she just move my hand away?”
Sebo’s smile deflated. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s her competitive nature. She wanted to see if she could out-reconcile you.”
“She can,” admitted Deron. “No contest.”
“Yeah, when you’re trying, but when you’re messed up, you become something else. I think you’ve got a mental block of some kind. I mean, I already know you’re a killer, but now I think you might actually be an artist too. It’s just your brain keeps getting in the way of that.”
“It does what it wants to do.”
“Yeah,” replied Sebo, distracted.
Deron followed Sebo’s gaze and saw that Principal Ficcone had popped his head out of the cafeteria door and was surveying the students. When he spotted Deron, he started walking towards them.
They both wiped their palettes clean out of habit.
“Mr. Bishop,” said the principal, “I would like a word with
“That was your choice,” Deron pointed out.
“I have tried finding other players,” he continued, ignoring the interruption, “but no one even approaches your skill level. You’re a killer at heart, no matter what your veneer says.”
“Lady-killer maybe,” said Deron, chuckling.
“However, as your best friend I understand that over the years I will become a second thought to any girl with a low-cut shirt and a tight ass.” He put his hand on his chest and sighed. “I’ve accepted that. So to keep myself in good spirits, I simply remember that you have a habit of reconciling your girlfriends in semi to fully nude states and that when you ingest a sufficient amount of illegal drugs, you tend to reproduce them subconsciously.”
Deron reconciled a blushing effect. “Whatever.”
Sebo’s sudden laughter made the couple sitting across from them look up. “It was only a month ago,” he said, reconciling a memory onto his palette. “I can’t believe Rosa never told you.”
“Told me what?”
“We were hanging out in your room,” he began, the scene appearing under his hand. It showed Deron’s bedroom, fuzzy but recognizable. The lights were out and the three of them were huddled around a low flame in the center of the room. An open window provided a breeze that made the light flicker. “Your mom was at some show, so we were smoking out.”
“Oh yeah,” said Deron, feigning recall. “I remember that night...”
“No you don’t. You crashed out early because you’re a woman and can’t handle your smoke. So Rosa and I are just sitting there making fun of you and then we notice the floor is changing colors, but we can’t make out what it is. She starts laughing her ass off and I drag you to the wall and put your hand on it.”
Deron closed his eyes and muttered, “Crap.”
“Crap is right. Rosa and I are about to lose it, but then you open your eyes and start staring at her like she’s your favorite stuffed animal.”
“What does that mean?”
Sebo waved the question away. “So I thought there was gonna be a show because you looked like you wanted to do her right then and there.”
“And?”
“You pussied out, of course. All you did was draw naked pictures of her on the wall.”
“So what? I reconciled the wall. Anyone can—”
“That’s the thing with you. You’re the only one I know who does it involuntarily. You know why I remember that night so well? Because after you stared at Rosa you turned the whole room into a shrine to her. And it was fast too.” Sebo pinched at an imaginary wall in front of them. “Boom, picture here, boom, tits there. And perfect detail too, way beyond your skill level. Of course, when Rosa saw what you were doing, she went to the wall and started reconciling something else. You guys fought it out for a long time.”
“Why didn’t she just move my hand away?”
Sebo’s smile deflated. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s her competitive nature. She wanted to see if she could out-reconcile you.”
“She can,” admitted Deron. “No contest.”
“Yeah, when you’re trying, but when you’re messed up, you become something else. I think you’ve got a mental block of some kind. I mean, I already know you’re a killer, but now I think you might actually be an artist too. It’s just your brain keeps getting in the way of that.”
“It does what it wants to do.”
“Yeah,” replied Sebo, distracted.
Deron followed Sebo’s gaze and saw that Principal Ficcone had popped his head out of the cafeteria door and was surveying the students. When he spotted Deron, he started walking towards them.
They both wiped their palettes clean out of habit.
“Mr. Bishop,” said the principal, “I would like a word with
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