OK. So, like I was robbing a bank, right? Because me and my buds Joe DeLuca and Bobbie Kristenzfelt (oh s##@, I didn’t mean that, me and my buds “MR. ORANGE and MR. BLACK”—noo, I’m Mr. Black so make that “MR. ORANGE and MR. WHITE”) were like out of money for beer and bud, our parents treat us like we’re absolute retards or something so they only deposit this little bit you know every month and MR. ORANGE’S supply like jacked up the price because it was “primo Oregonian” no way it was skank, anyways, MR. BLACK said “hey why don’t we wear masks or something and get some money” because he had a prop gun from Drama Class and it was Halloween and they wouldn’t tag us at the door if we wore masks and then we could, you know, get the money, so we did it and got masks like, um, I was some brainless dick President and MR. BLACK was Hello Kitty and I held the gun and we told the cashier you know to put the money in a bag and nobody would get hurt but somehow it wasn’t just a prop gun, like it had a bullet in it, and it went off and shot the person behind me in the leg–and it was my high school lacrosse coach, Mr. Parsons.
I swear it’s true. We were both so surprised.
