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Ron: (storms into the apartment) I swear my Fvcking boss is insane. I got FIRED TODAY and it totally wasn't even my fault!
Gym: You got fired again? That's, what, your fifth job this month? What happened?
Ron: You know the robotic planetary lander we were working on? Well, I was on the team working on the code to power that little sum-b1tch. A slight, slight bug may have slipped through and caused a run-time error resulting in a minor explosion.
Gym: How minor of an explosion are we talking about?
Ron: Remember that 100-acre forest near downtown?
Gym: Uh..yeah.
Ron: It's kinda gone now. Well, it's not gone so much as a smoldering crater, but I'd still stray far away from there for a while. Lotta pissed off squirrels and chipmunks with automatic weapons lingering around there.
Gym: Yeah, those little rodent bastards seem cute, but you make 'em angry and they can wipe out your whole family. On a lighter note, you know that cute teller at the bank? I finally asked her out!
Ron: Dude, 'bout time. What'd she say?
Gym: She said; "Hell no you freakin' weird lookin' bastard," then she tried to stab me with that little pen on a chain.
Ron: ...How is that good news?
Gym: I said she tried to stab me. Most females I've hit on at the bank leap across the desk and kick me in the face. I figure since this one didn't assault me, that I've got at least a small chance.
Ron: (shakes his head and plops down on a nearby recliner) This city, this place, it's getting to me man, I gotta get away. You know I got mugged six times yesterday on the way home from work?
Gym: Only six? Wow, maybe the neighborhood is getting better.
Ron: Yeah, but last night, there was some dude with a chainsaw wearing a hockey mask in the shower at 3AM.
Gym: Oh yeah, Jason. He's a good guy, just don't make eye contact with him.
*Gym turns the TV volume up*
Guy In News: If you've seen this man, please call the authorities. Mr. Ron Jones is wanted by the authorities for spreading countless bad checks and lewd conduct in public.
Ron: ! I'M WHAT!
Gym: Oh, yeah I meant to tell you about that. I, uh, used your name to write a few checks that may or may not have bounced.
Ron: How many checks we talking here?
Gym: 117.
Ron: And the lewd conduct thing?
Gym: I won't go into detail, but I'll tell you it invovles a midget, a goat, and lotsa baby oil.
Ron: ...how the hell did you pull this off, you look nothing like me!
Gym: Identity theft is a b1tch ain't it? Man, just wait until you see what I've done to your credit repo- *knock at the door*
Ron: Who the fvck is it?
Guy at Door: ...Hired goons. Er I mean, pizza delivery.
Gym: Oh, kewl, let 'em in.
Ron: NO! What's wrong with you. They were probably sent by the freakin' 117 people you wrote bad checks for. Get your keys, we're leaving the city for a while.
Gym: Where we going?
Ron: Anywhere but here, let's just go on a road trip until the heat dies down. C'mon we can take the fire escape to get to the ground floor.
(They both fly down the fire escape like people whom are being chased by hired goons)
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Road Trip Info
Chapter 1 - Enter The Gym
Chapter 2 - Dem Pillz
Other Works
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