Me and my friends are some of the coolest people around. Some people think that we are just plain stupid, but we don’t care. We know that they don’t know the whole truth. It pays to be like us. When we walk into a place, people watch out for their health. We are the bad boys.
I bet you’re thinking “Hey, how did that guy get so cool?” I didn’t wake up one morning and BAM! I’m cool. I got this way through a long and hard period of reputation building. The boys and I meet down at the club every Thursday, Friday, Monday, and, well, pretty much every other day of the week, excluding Sundays, when we go to church. It’s hard to become bad.
We go right to the table and sit down chatting. After a few hours, someone gets out the gun, and we are in business. Then, slowly the gun goes around the table, click, click, click. And then, all of a sudden, BANG! And when we look up, there is one less person at the table. There used to be hundreds of us. Bad boys. But now there are few. Eddie and Brandon died last week, a couple of the toughest guys I know. I will mourn their tragic deaths forever. But I will keep playing the game. Click, click, click. All around the table. BANG. And now there is one fewer.
The game is life, and the club is charging more and more these days, getting to be hundreds of dollars to play for a year. You must pay a price to be cool. To be bad boys. That’s our motto. But, I still play. Click, click, click. And I always win. We play for reputation, and we play for sport, but most of all, we play to win.
Until one day, when there are three of us left, too tired to pull the trigger, and too broke to pay the bills. Maybe that day, years ahead, when all my friends have already lost the game. Maybe we will come up with a better idea. Maybe then we will become normal. Good boys. Maybe we will find a better use for our time.
Anyone for checkers?
Click, click, click
BANG
