Cord-Stuck Chaos & Crunchy Truths

Absurd antics, belches, and bizarre truths collide in this chaotic late-night fever dream.

“Spit on your pants!” she shouted. Instead, he looked up—he hadn’t done as he was told. He bent over to inspect the weird liquid on the floor.



“Are you going to lick it?” she asked. He was crouched so low it looked like he was preparing to eat it. He shook his head and tried to stand, but he was stuck. He motioned for help.



“Your ear’s caught on the cord again, my friend.” She untangled her defenseless companion, then moved to the bed and sat down. Beside her lay a bag of Doritos. Her friend eyed it like it was the last of its kind.



“I’m sorry—do you want some?” she asked. He nodded, and she leaned forward to hand him the bag. But it slipped from her fingers, scattering chips across the floor.



“Falls down on me,” she muttered, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her. She hated the silence, so she flicked on the stereo. That awful song came on—“Bathe with you in the sea-men.” She quickly switched the station. The next song was tolerable, so she let it play.



“Are you going to the Purple Carnival?” she asked. He nodded again, then raised his chin, took a deep breath, and belched: “Buuuuuuurlap!” What a belch, she thought, giving him a thumbs up.



“Can you fill this up for me?” she asked, handing him her nearly empty glass of soda.



Just then, her brother burst in. “Look out for that water tower!” he shouted. He always came to bug them.



“I have acid,” he announced.



“Indigestion?” she asked.



Her brother shook his head and held up a plastic bag. “It works for me.”



She always had a good time when playing with acid.



“Ooohhh yeeeaaah!” Her friend returned with a full glass of soda and placed it on the table. She gave him a sincere smile.



Her brother got in her friend’s face. “Doesn’t matter when it’s fecal,” he said.



Her friend gave her a weird look and shook his head. He tried to turn away, but her brother blocked him again. “The kitchen sex scene is kind of weird though.”



She remembered the movie he was talking about. It was confusing.



“Who made who?” she asked.



“Horton!” he proclaimed. Ah, she thought. It all made sense now.



“Tim?” Her brother always called his name when Tim was turned away, even though he knew better. He banged on the floor to get Tim’s attention.



Her brother walked over to the computer where Tim sat. He pointed at the screen. “No, the deaf one.”



“What are you doing?” she asked, unsure if her brother was being mean.



“A little AC/DC, just to get info,” he replied. She remembered the conversation where her brother insisted the drummer was deaf.



She walked over to where the boys were huddled in front of the monitor. Just in time to see a topless groupie on the screen. She smacked Tim’s arm.



“I just look at the pictures!” he shouted. He pronounced things well, but never knew how loud he was talking.



“I can’t find any women who rock,” her brother said. He had control of the mouse and was searching for extreme groupies. He let go of the mouse and stood up.



“Everybody’s got to eat crunchies,” he proclaimed, holding out the bag again. Their attention shifted to the chips. Tim’s stayed glued to the screen.



“Oh boy, that’s a high bed. Can’t wait to get in it,” she said, glancing at the monitor. A picture of a giant bed with a beautiful half-naked woman filled the screen. She smacked Tim’s arm again.



“Chuuuuussssh,” her brother hissed—his usual weird noise when preparing to get high.



She held the open bag to her chest. “I gotta go pee first,” she said, heading toward the bathroom doorway off to the left of her room.



“I can’t wait to bring my Wii over to play in your big bed,” Tim said.



She shook her head, knowing he was still staring at the woman on the screen.