I put down the bottle and sipped my beer.
The new pills Eric had prescribed were hard-core stuff. The only problem was, that I had been cooped up in the house all day. I gotta get out of here. These walls are closing in. Where the hell did I put the crutches? Ah, screw it, I don't need any stinking crutches.
I fell down.
I needed crutches.
I needed another beer.
I hate this.
I saw the phone.
I'll call Greg.
"Hello, Greg. Wanna come over tonight? The Knicks play the Magic and I got a twelve pack."
"Sure," Greg said. "I could stop and get Chinese."
"That'd be cool."
"How about a massage?"
"That'd be real cool."
"All right then, it's a date."
"Sure, it's a date," I said. "You might have to ring the bell a few times. The drugs are making me loopy. I might be sleeping."
We hung up.
I turned on the TV and fell asleep.
It was a nightmare
Greg was on TV.
"I can get any man to sleep with me," says Greg.
"Even straight men?" asks Oprahrickicarneyjennyrapheal.
"There's no such thing as a straight man. The straight ones are the ones who always beg me for more."
"So, how do you do it?"
"First I ask if they want a massage. They always say yes. Then, when they get all nice and relaxed, I make my move. If that doesn't work, I take out my handcuffs and then have my way with them. They struggle at first, later, they're loving it so much I call my friends over to help satisfy them."
The audience starts hooting.
Oprahrickicarneyjennyrapheal sits next to Greg.
"I think we'd all like to see you at work. Wouldn't we, gang?"
The crowd cheers.
"I'd like to convert...let me see..."
Greg's pointing finger comes through the screen and touches my chest.
"Him!"
The door bell rang and I woke up.
Greg let himself in.
"How about that massage?"
