Man, you guys are great. Seriously, I can’t remember the last time I had such a great — oh look, an owl — time. You truly are my best friends. You don’t even know much I love you. Everything is so perfect. The power of friendship really can make you blissfully euphoric.
It’s like every time I’m around you guys, and we steal pills from my sister’s purse, we have such a fun and pure time that it’s, like, spiritual. It reminds me of that one famous Beatles lyric, “Do drugs.” I forget if it was John or Paul who wrote that one.
What I’m trying to say is that tonight it doesn’t matter what bad shit is going on in the world. War. Genocide. Fuckin’ hurricanes. That shit doesn’t matter right now, because we’re all here and we’re all so present. I just wanna know if you guys are feeling cool and also do you think my sister is gonna be mad that I stole a bunch of pills from her purse. Or as she calls it, “the pharmacy.” And way too openly because she thinks mom will never catch on.
Oh boy, I think I took too much. I gotta sit. While I’m down here on the floor, could I get some nachos? And can you call me an ambulance? Preferably an ambulance that has nachos.
Bobby, come here. You’ve been my best bud for years. And Billy, well, your name is too close to Bobby’s so we may have to stop being friends. Sorry, I know you were the best man at my wedding, but right now your names are too similar and it’s gonna make me tear my shirt off and punch you.
Holy shit I feel like dancing. You guys are perfection.
So what are you guys feeling? Do we wanna hit another bar or — oh, the owl is back — do you wanna just meet me at the hospital? No, wait, I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Damn. My sister needs to talk with her doctor, because this is hitting pretty hard for anxiety medication.