The Bad Boys' Soft Boys' Lonely Hearts Club - The Full Package

The Bad Boys' Soft Boys' Lonely Hearts Club

"Hayden, my love, my one and only, my schimsy-poopsie," I say, slowly grabbing his arm, "what in the holy name of 2004's Olympic winner of the 800 meters dash Yuriry Borzakovski are you on?"

Hayden, still with bloodshot eyes and with a chronic smirk, takes a bag from beneath the table. He takes out a piece of paper from beneath the table, tossing it onto the table. I guess he wanted it to be a big reveal, but the paper got stuck on the eggs and got all greasy beneath. He, however, is unfazed.

"I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation at hand," says Hayden, pressing his finger over the paper. This makes it even greasier.

Brayden snatches the paper from its eggy torture, giving it a read. Or at least he pretends to. I'm not 100% sure he knows how to read. "bitch, i know gravity. alfonso cuaron, mommy bullock. find it on amazon prime. solid 7/10."

"You are such a douche," says Okayden, grabbing the paper.

Gravity is 9.81 m/s2,

Not some B class flick."

"silly dog, you can't square time!" says Brayden, snatching the paper again, now getting ready with his little grubby bacon fingers, "we all know time comes in a circle. that's why all clocks come in a circle! right, ayden?"

"Don't pull me into your lover's quarrel," I say. "You don't see us pulling you into our problems."

"i'll take it as a yes," says Brayden with his shit-eating grin.

"Oh, you wanna go there?" says Okayden, rolling up the sleeve of his trenchcoat to reveal his very hairy arm, with something vaguely black stuck around it. Upon closer inspection, it is an old Casio digital watch with a calculator and all. "See? Square time, and I can,

Math how dumb you are."

"daddy says my dumbness is uncalculatable," says Brayden. "i'm a miracle of science."

"It's a miracle,

That you have not drowned staring,

At a glass of water."

"yo, beethoven, you're looking to get a foot up your ass?"

"You wanna shove something?

Don't threaten me with a good,

Time, you silly boy."

A thunderous sound, not unlike thunder, but most likely not thunder, thunders around the room like a thunder, but very much not a thunder. It's Hayden, slamming his roast-beef hands on the table, moving everything an inch to the left. "You're doing it again!"

This makes my penis the small penis. I hate it when he gets like this. Something inside of me wants to get in front of him and say "Look at me. You're not like this," but the thought makes my balls retreat into my body by the sheer cringe of it.

Hayden, seemingly in a moment of clarity, takes a deep breath while pinching the bridge of his nose, leaning in and taking the greasy paper away from the quarreling duo. "Look, if you wanna shove something up each other's cave of wonders, do it in the privacy of a bedroom."

Neither of them says a thing, both getting deep red. I think. Can't see much under Okayden's clothes.

"Okay, look," he says, putting the paper in front of him, "I got a call from Fuches yesterday telling me that I'm gonna be part of the team from the Football club. I said, no way, Jose! And he said, I'm not Jose! And I said, it's an expression, and he said-"

"Babe?" I say, squeezing his arm, "you're rambling."

"Right, right," he says, taking a swig of coffee. "Point is, he said that either I play for them, or I'm expelled from the team. I said I wouldn't, so I got expelled. It's okay, it was bound to happen. But when I got to my locker today, I found this letter, and..."