Post-Presidential Fun Time!
Ten years have passed since my last hit. I’ve reached the last leg of my term as President… aww hell, why not?
Speaking of Hell… I pick up my mobile, tap out a few digits.
“Mmm… To what do I owe the pleasure?” My man Satan. Not the Satan, mind you. Just my old dealer.
Long story short, my mind is blown, man. I’ve got spirals burrowing under my skin, a bunch of aardvarks strapped to my chest, and some nun flashing me from the apartment across the street.
I’m hungry. Let’s get sundaes. I know a place, used to be an old bank. Full of ice cream now, I’m sure.
Yep. Down to business.
“EVERYBODY GET THE FUCK DOWN! I’M GOING TO KILL THIS AARDVARK UNLESS WE GET THE SWEETS!”
Satan keeps snickering. What’s wrong with you man?
“That’s not an aardvark. And this is still a bank.”
That’s silly talk. Jeez, my hands itch. One sec. Let me drop this bloody hamster. Shit, I meant aardvark.
There we go… Now that itch…
“Boom.” Satan says.
“Boom.” The aardvark says.
“Boom?” I say.
“Yes.” Says Satan.