The Legend of Joel Riggins part 16: Party at Baker’s House
by Daniel Beadle - Friday, October 19, 2007
“WHERE ARE THE HOOKERS?!” screams Joel, as he explodes through the front door of Baker’s house.Teenagers and young adults, no older than twenty-five, fill the two-story suburban home to the brim, eagerly suckling at the golden teat of inebriation. A large stereo in the living room blasts an eclectic playlist of music to every corner of the house, and a beer keg on the elevated back porch keeps inhibitions to a minimum.
They’re all there. Everyone. Bill Stevens is there, along with his entire painting crew. Brian Rix is there, his nose already looking like a powdered donut. Andy Fleischmann is there, blacked-out and searching for his missing glasses. Fontana, Rizzo, and the rest of the poker night goons are there as well. Caitlin, Jamie, Joann, and whole list of loose women looking to get drunk enough to have guilt-free sex… they’re all there. Hell, even Joel’s first girlfriend Amy is there, with her boyfriend, Chris Evans. And now, newly arrived into this den of hedonism is Joel Riggins and Donnie Savia, with Jack and Dan in tow. The party begins here.
Joel leans over to hit on a high school girl dressed like a fifty-dollar whore. “You single?” he asks.
“Umm, I have a boyfriend.”
Unfortunately for her, Joel’s cleverness has faded into the night, along with his sense of moderation and sobriety. “Fuck him!” he shouts.
Joel saunters off, in search of his next encounter. He finds Ted Baker, the owner of the house, and throws his arm around him. “Now Baker, you’re gonna hear a lot of stories about me starting this party…”
“This was you, Riggins? I just got home a half hour ago to find my house overflowing with people.”
“Hey, all I did was make a few calls.”
* * *
Donnie slaps Jack and Dan on their backs at the same time, nearly knocking them both over. “It’s time to step up and take what’s yours,” he says. Donnie walks into the heart of the crowd, screaming “’Cause she got a—!”
“This is one hell of a setup, huh Daniel?” says Jack.
Bill steps up to the boys, and shakes Jack’s hand. “This your cousin, guy?”
“Yup. Daniel, this is Bill Stevens.”
Dan shakes his hand. “Good shit, kid,” says Bill. “You get any womb recently?”
“Been about a month,” says Dan.
“Well, get to work tonight, guy.” Bill casts his eye out over the sea of teenage sluts. “It’s pretty OBVIOUS there’s gonna be some sex tonight.” A small gaggle of girls looks at Bill with disgust. “That’s right, sweetheart. You heard me.”Jack notices Sean Finnerty standing at the edge of the crowd. “Hey, there’s Sean.” He nudges Dan. “I’m gonna go make fun of his T-shirt.”
“Okay, Jack,” says Dan.
“I’m telling you, guy. It’s a great conversation starter.”
“Yeah, well, I’m gonna find another kind of conversation starter,” he says, as he walks in the direction of the keg.
* * *
“Irreplaceable” by Beyonce blasts over the stereo, and Rizzo begins to shout over the noise. “TO THE LEFT! TO THE LEFT!”
“How’re you doin’, Emily?” asks Joel to a small, intellectual-looking chick.
“Swell,” she responds.
“Yeah, tell me about it. That girl wasn’t as clean as she said she was.” He pauses. “Whoa, did I just say that out loud? Don’t mind me, Emily. You see, I know a good relationship when I can comfortably talk about my STDs.”
“Thanks for that, Joel.” Emily searches for her next comment. “So… when was your last physical?”
“By a doctor?” asks Joel. “Jeeze. All I remember is when I turned my head and coughed, the doctor said ‘What the hell is that?’”
Nearby, two people are debating the outcome of the last Red Sox game: “…it’s ‘cause they got Derek Jeter…”“Fuck Jeter!”
Joel returns his attention to Emily. “Did you know I used to be friends with Kevin Youkilis?”
Emily shakes her head.
“…Yeah, I knew Youkilis. He and I went to camp together. I diddled him. He called his mom, and things ended real quick.”
* * *
Jack continues his conversation with Sean. “You see these threads, Sean. Jack Lyons is stylin’ these days.”
Andy Fleischmann stumbles into the exchange. “Hey Jack,” he says. “Do you have my glasses? Are they intact?”
“No, but ah…” Jack looks at Andy’s arm, which is in a sling. “What happened to your arm? You dislocate it or something?”
Andy looks down. “Oh yeah, umm… I dislocated it last night. I rolled over the wrong way in my bed. Hey lissen, I’ll catch up with you later. I gotta find my glasses.”
“Sure thing, pal.” Andy staggers off. “Who knew that that could happen?” Jack asks Sean. “Dislocating your shoulder in your sleep…”
* * *
Meanwhile, Dan has caught up with Jake Alberts, an old friend from college. “…So, we’ll see if anyone notices the missing stop signs,” says Jake. “But this is a sweet setup they got here. Look,” Jake picks up a red balloon. “They even got balloons.”On the other side of the room, Joel is waving a yellow balloon over his head. “HEY!” he shouts. “THIS IS THE COLOR OF MY LEFT TESTICLE!”
“Yup,” says Dan. “That’s Joel Riggins. You should meet him, Jake. He urinates in public, just like you.”
“Well, then he’s okay in my book.”
“Hey, I see someone I should say ‘hi’ to.” Dan walks off.
Jake wanders forward into a small cluster of underage girls. He pushes his penis through his open fly, while nodding at the girls. “So I’m just gonna put this out there,” he says.
Dan works his way across the room, and notices a familiar face. “Hey! I haven’t seen you since high school! You’re the popular kid, right?” Pause. “What was your name again?”
“Chris Evans,” he says flatly.
“Chris Evans! Right!” Dan turns and walks off. “Well, I certainly fucked that one up,” he says to himself.
* * *
“It was an amazing sunrise, I tell ya,” says Joel, who’s now talking to a small group of college kids. “…Granted we were on acid at the time.” The guys laugh. “But hey, I wasn’t kiddin’ when I showed up here… we really need to get some hookers in here. Good, cheap ones, too. Hookers with shit falling off of them. Give ‘em the ol’ thousand-pound hand, so they can go hog on your hammer.” He’s got his audience in the palm of his hand. “…Maybe even give ‘em the ol’ ‘sorry sweetie,’ and stick it in the wrong hole.” Laughter ensues.
Three feet away, Donnie is on his cell phone, trying to close a deal with an escort. “So, I could put you in three scenes, but you’d have to go doggy in at least one of them. Hello?” He snaps his phone shut. “JOHN ANTHONY!” he shouts. As the partygoers look at him questioningly, Donnie shrugs. “It just came to me.”Dan resumes his conversation with a young but very attractive female. “Who the hell is John Anthony?” she asks.
“He’s nobody. It’s just a line from the Al Pacino movie, Two for the Money. Probably the greatest sports betting movie of all time. Yup,” Dan continues, “Donnie loves shouting those lines from Al Pacino movies.”
“You’d think that he’d pick a more well-known movie, though. Like Godfather or Scarface.”
“Yeah, but that would be so conventional.”
“Does Donnie live here?”
“Nope. I’m not sure if Donnie has his own place.”
“Well, where does he sleep?”
“Who says he sleeps?”
“Where does he have sex?”
“Everywhere!” says Donnie with a smile, as he interrupts the conversation. “Don’t worry about this kid," he says, patting Dan on the back while addressing the girl. "He just turned 21. And he’s a virgin.”
“Thanks, Donnie,” says Dan with a grimace.
Donnie starts laughing. “What happened to your girlfriend? You know, that pale, Viking chick?”
“She’s not my—” Dan stops himself. “Oh, forget it.” He walks off.
Somewhere in the background, Rizzo shouts “Rats!”
Donnie continues talking to the underage girl: “So, what perfume are you wearing?”
“It’s Chanel.”
“What number?”
“That would be telling,” she says coyly.
Jack pats Dan on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Daniel. We all know Donnie’s an asshole. Just look at him.” Dan watches as Donnie makes the girl laugh, while slipping his hand into her back pocket like a leash.
“It’s what he does,” says Jack. “I can only imagine what it’ll be like when he has kids of his own.” He catches Dan’s eye and points at him. “…Because you and I both know that Donnie will breed.”
Dan laughs. “Hey,” he says. “I didn’t know this place had a pool.”
* * *
Elsewhere, a bunch of the boys at the party have popped a copy of “Girls Gone Wild” into the VCR, and watch as a bunch of coeds shake their fun bags in public for free T-shirts. Joel catches a glimpse of the screen. “Man, those girls have gone wild!”
Nearby, Bill is defending his sexuality. “What, you think just ‘cause I had sex with someone in the dark means I can’t call myself a straight man?”
Suddenly, a fat kid named Ryan teeters forward, and passes out on the coffee table. Bill snaps his fingers, and two of his underlings pick up Ryan and drag him out to the garage.Joel, unflinching, continues to watch TV. “Man, those girls have gone wild!”
Bill stands over Ryan’s passed out body. “Alright, boys. Let’s roll ‘em up.” The guys bust out paint cans and rollers, and begin to paint every inch of Ryan’s blubbery shape. Bill flicks his cigarette ash at the garage floor. “Get under those folds, kid. Let’s not mess around here.”
* * *
In the upstairs bathroom, the underage girl Donnie was just flirting with is bent over the counter, as he rails her from behind.
“Ow, ow, ow…” she repeats with every thrust.
Donnie leans down next to her ear, and whispers: “I don’t care that I’m hurting you.”
* * *
“Who invited the UPS guy?” asks Amy Carrigan, as she watches Jack walk down the back porch steps.
Jack, who’s wearing all brown, looks himself over, and responds, “What can brown do for you?”
Amy laughs, and the tension breaks. “So what’re you doing here, Amy?” asks Jack.
“Oh, I’m just tagging along with Chris Evans.”“Chris Evans? The football jock?”
“Yeah, well, I can’t always be dating guys like Joel Riggins.”
“Well, he did play soccer. Was pretty damn good at it, too. Coulda been a pro.”
The conversation is interrupted by Andy Fleischmann, who stumbles down the porch steps with a cup of beer in each hand. He trips as he arrives at the bottom, spilling both beers on Amy’s white outfit. Without a word, he rises, and lurches off, like some runaway train of destruction.
Amy is soaked and speechless. “Oh. My. God. What the hell?! Who was that?!”
Jack helps her to her feet. “Don’t worry about him. That was Andy Fleischmann. Andy’s like California a few years back, with his rolling black outs.”
“What?”
“It’s topical humor. Don’t worry about it.”
“Hey Lyons!” shouts Bill from the garage. “Get over here, kid! Check this out!”
Jack enters the garage through the back door, to see Bill and his crew standing over a fully painted, passed-out fat kid.
“Oh my goodness,” says Jack. “He looks like Powder!”
“Yeah, guy. C’mon. Let’s get this mess out to the front lawn.”
* * *
Jane Pincus stands near the back of the house, leaning against a wall and looking out onto the porch. She notices Dan talking to a pale redheaded girl. Jake walks up next to Jane, bumping out a cigarette from a half-empty pack. “Hey,” she says to Jake. “Who’s that guy over there?”“What, him? That’s Dan. I think he’s dating that Viking chick.”
Dan stands on the back porch, leaning on the railing as he talks to Joann. “So there was Joel, pulling his pee-stained recliner out the front door of his house. Keep in mind that he had no pants on. So everyone driving up Birch Street caught a glimpse of his bare ass.”
Joann chuckles, but it’s subdued. “That’s Riggins for ya,” she says.
“Check out Andy Fleischmann.” Dan nods his head at Andy, who’s standing on the opposite site of the pool in a stupor. “JIMMAAYY!” Dan shouts, echoing Joel’s previous lesson.
Andy looks up at Dan, and instinctively walks toward him. He walks directly into the deep end of the pool, without missing a beat. Laughter erupts from the backyard, as Andy sinks like a stone to the bottom of the pool.
Joann tugs at Dan’s sleeve. “Could you get me another beer?” she asks.
“What am I, your servant? Go fuck yourself.” He walks off, then backtracks. “…So what kind do you want?”
* * *
Joel and Rix sit on the couch, as Joel regurgitates one of many stories from his past: “So me and Donnie were going to town on those two girls in the parking lot, in the back seat of two different cars parked next to each other. It was summer, so the windows were rolled down, and me and Donnie did a high five through the open windows.”“I gotta say, Riggins, that’s impressive. How did you guys get the extension to do a high five?”
“Just told the girls to put it in their mouths.”
“Good thinking.”
“Hey Riggins!” calls Jack from the back door. “Come help me with these brushes.”
Joel walks into the garage, where Bill is cranking butts, and Jack is rinsing off paintbrushes with gasoline. “Hey now,” says Joel. “It’s my day off, here.”
“Relax, guy,” says Bill. “We just painted a passed-out kid, and I need these brushes cleaned before they harden.” Bill flicks his cigarette ash at Jack. “Hurry it up, guy. I don’t got all night.”
“Bill, you realize that this is gasoline, right?”
“What’s your point?”
“Little Red Corvette” by Prince comes on the party stereo, and Joel tosses a few brushes under the stream of gasoline. “Are you kidding me, guy?” says Joel. “Are they really playing Prince?”“Ah, it’s not so bad, Riggins,” says Jack. “He’s kinda like Michael Jackson.”
“Don’t make that comparison, Lyons. Prince is nothing like Mike.”
“Actually,” Bill interrupts. “Prince is a respectable artist.”
* * *
Rix and Dan stand outside of the upstairs bathroom, where a small line has formed. The door is locked, and the rhythmic sounds of a girl moaning come from within.
“Daisy…” says Rix to Dan. “…That’s a good one. Umm…” he thinks, “Twinkle toes… that’s another one.” He furrows his brow. “I dunno, Danny. I got tons of good one-liners.”
Suddenly, the bathroom door swings open, and Donnie emerges with the girl he just violated. Her underwear is turned inside out, as she walks, bowlegged, down the stairs. Donnie, who has a small streak of blood on the bottom edge of his T-shirt, shrugs as he looks at the crowd outside the door. “She was puking,” he says. “I was holding her hair.”
Minutes later, Donnie is explaining himself to Rix and Dan.
“You had sex with who?” asks Rix.
“Guy, you remember Catherine Fiore?”
“Yeah, isn’t she like 19?”
“Well, I just banged her younger sister in the bathroom.”
“I didn’t even know she had a younger sister.”
Donnie wipes the sweat off his forehead.
“You wanna do an eight ball?” asks Rix.
“Absolutely,” says Donnie.
“You comin’, Danny?” asks Rix.
“I’ll come with, but I can’t be doing that stuff.”
“You fucking loser,” says Donnie.
“Back off, Donnie. Danny’s a good kid,” says Rix. “Not like us dirtbags.”
* * *
Joel rinses his hands off in the kitchen sink. “They still smell like gasoline,” he says to Jack, who’s rummaging through the fridge.
“Yeah, well, that’s Bill for ya.” Jack pulls out a piece of salmon. “Ooo. This’ll do just fine.” He slaps the cold salmon on top of a slice of leftover pizza and tosses it into the microwave.“Lyons…” says Joel. “What the hell is that?”
“Just a little salmon on top of my pizza. Should give me a good insulin rush before bed.”
“You’re disgusting.” Joel snatches another beer from the fridge, and walks off.
“Hey,” says Jack to a random kid. “Let’s have a heart-to-heart.”
In the background, two men restrain their friend as he looks aggressively at another man. “I didn’t mean it as a racist comment! He really does have a huge watermelon head!”
Joel notices Fontana, and makes his way over to him. “I’m tellin’ ya, Fontana, I’m not gonna be satisfied unless I get a little rub and tug tonight. Maybe even a little poke and thrust.”
“Well, there’s always girls like her…” He points to the family room, where an overweight girl is dancing on the coffee table, her sweaty hogs flopping all over the place.
“What’re you, out of your tree? Smarten up. I’m bangin’ skinny chicks now. I’m not taking a backslide into that mess.” Joel looks around curiously. “Jack said that Amy Carrigan was around here somewhere…”
“I think she came with Chris Evans,” says Fontana.
“Fuck him.” Joel’s tiny eyes scan the party. “Amy, Amy, Amy… Never thought I’d be drawing water from that well again…”
* * *
“…So it turns out she was a prostitute,” says Rix, as he finishes a line of coke.
Donnie responds as he leans in. “Yeah… who hasn’t had that experience…” he says, without the slightest trace of sarcasm.
Dan sits on the closed toilet lid, looking out the back window. “Well, Andy’s down to his underwear now.”
“Yeah, that kid’s a real shit show,” says Rix.
“Hey Rix,” says Donnie. “You should try a Dragon’s Fang sometime.”“What’s that?”
“You take a Morphine pill, crush it up, and sprinkle it into a hot chocolate.”
“You’re really into Morphine these days, aren’t you Savia?”
“So Daniel,” says Donnie, turning his attention to the only non-drug user of the group. “How’s Viking boobs?” Donnie immediately laughs at his own joke.
“Same old lethargic attitude.”
“Ooo, Danny, breakin’ out the big words,” says Rix. “You write?”
“Occasionally,” says Dan.
“Yeah guy,” says Donnie. “Daniel’s a writer. He’s gonna write a story about all of us.” Donnie leans over, and grabs Dan by the shirt. “You better make me famous, god dammit,” he whispers through gritted teeth.
* * *
“Joel Riggins,” says Amy sardonically. “You look a mess. Did someone’s father chase you out of his house again?”
“Why do you always have to assume the worst? Can’t I just be drunk?”
“You’re a dirtbag.”
“Thank you?”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
The conversation is interrupted momentarily, as someone shouts, “GET HIM AWAY FROM ME! HE KEEPS TRYING TO HAVE A HEART-TO-HEART!”
“So,” says Joel. “Chris Evans. Since when did you go for the popular jocks?”
“You think you know me so well, don’t you Joel?”
“I know you well enough. I know you like the fun guy. The guy who can make you laugh. They guy who can make sex fun…” He begins unbuttoning her shirt.
"What are you doing?" she asks.
"Don't worry about it."
* * *
Andy stumbles into the kitchen, wearing only his briefs. His darkened eyes scan the room like the Terminator, and zero-in on the half-finished bottle of cheap Vodka on the kitchen counter. Just as he grasps the bottle, Chris Evans stops him. “I think you’ve had enough, pal. Look at yourself.”
Jack comes up from behind, and pulls Chris back. “Listen!” he barks. “This kid’s a good friend of mine! I’LL tell YOU when he’s ‘HAD ENOUGH’!”
* * *
Minutes later, Donnie is back downstairs in the heart of the party, coaching Jack on his Al Pacino impersonation. His head swivels back and forth, as he holds out a loose fist with the knuckle of his pinky finger slightly extended. “No, you gotta say it just right. You gotta say it like Al Pacino says it.” He lowers his voice, and gives it a gravely intonation. “I've got three dead bodies on a sidewalk of Venice Boulevard, …I'm sorry if the goddamn... chicken... got overcooked.”* * *
Bill sits on the front stoop, taking a drag on his cigarette and talking to Dan. “You know what you gotta do, Danny? You gotta hit up one a’them Asian massage parlors. There’s this place in Boston… You can pick any girl, and just go hog on ‘em. Give ‘em the fuckin’ COCK GAGGA guy.”
“What the hell is a cock gagga?”
Bill stands and arches his back, clenching his fists at waist level, and swinging his hips back and forth. “UUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!”
Dan nods. “That explains it.”
Bill sits back down, eyeing a Ford Escort pull into the driveway. “Who’s this clown?” he asks.
* * *
Meanwhile, Andy is slumped facedown in the backyard, muttering softly to himself. “What ‘appened to my glasses? I just wanna see, man… I just wanna see…” As he repeats this mantra to himself, a small group of Bill’s workers empty a bag of ice cubes into his underwear.A few yards away, Joel sucks on Amy’s face, their lips massaging each other, and their tounges sparring like boxers. He lays her down in the bushes by the side of the house. She puts her hand on his shoulder, pushing him back. “I’m on my period,” she says.
Joel pulls her ripcord. “So?”
A few feet above them, inside the house, Chris Evans is looking out the widow onto the lawn. It isn’t anger that builds within him, but defeat. His attention is jarred by Donnie Savia, who is slamming his fist into his sternum with monster truck force.
“See? That’s that hollow, rib cage sound.” He slams his chest again, and the sound echoes above the music.
Nearby, a girl with a lisp interjects: “Thith one likes to thump his chest.”
Donnie feels all eyes on him, so he takes advantage of the moment with another Al Pacino quote: “’CAUSE SHE GOT A--!”
Dan approaches Donnie. “Have you seen Jack? I can’t find him.”
“I haven’t seen Jack, but I have seen John,” says Donnie, while motioning toward Jack. Jack is leaning against the wall in the corner of the room, swaying gently back and forth. “John is who your cousin becomes when he’s blacked out. I’d stay away, though. He’s a dangerous character with a mean left hook.”
Dan watches Jack, as someone wanders a little too close. Jack takes a powerful swing, and lays the kid out.
“Jeezey Creezey,” Dan whispers to himself.
* * *
On the other side of the room, Amy reenters the house, tossing her cigarette behind her. She stops for a moment to pull the underwear out of the crack in her ass, then grabs her date by the arm. “C’mon, Chris,” she says. “Drive me home.”
Outside, sitting in the bushes, Joel blows his cigarette smoke into the night air. His appetites abated, Joel swims in contentment. Suddenly, a Shaw’s value club card, with Joel’s name embossed on it, lands at his feet.
“Looking for this?” says a man in the shadows.
Joel looks up. “Who…?”
“You might not know me, but I sure as hell know you.” The man steps out from the shadows. “Joel. Thomas. Riggins. Local dirtbag.” The man’s face doesn’t ring a bell, but his words do: “Let me take you back, Riggins. Wednesday night. The China Panda restaurant.”A haze is lifted, and Joel’s mind flashes back to that night. He remembers going to the Chinese restaurant. He remembers his over-the-top karaoke performance of “Son of a Preacher Man,” as he swung his shirt wildly over his head. He even remembers Andy Fleischmann, offending the management with one phrase: “No wonder Communism failed!” And then there were the bachelorettes. A whole flock of them. And Joel’s libido getting the better of him. Controlling him. Usurping him. Directing him to the surest sex, regardless of looks, and even gender.
“Jennifer Buckley…” Joel whispers to himself.
“That’s right, Riggins. Jennifer Buckley. The woman you slept with three nights ago. I’m Todd Riley. And Jennifer… was my fiancée, you sorry son of a bitch. I’m calling you out, asshole. You think you could be a total man-whore and not get caught? You think you could live your entire life without any consequences? Huh?”
“Well… yeah.”
“You’re shit, Riggins. Everything you are, and everything you touch.”
“And what makes you and yours so god damned special, huh? Living your life for tomorrow, and never for now. Your entire life is lived in fear of consequence, just so that someday, maybe, you’ll be rewarded for it. Forget that… and forget you. I live for now, god dammit. And I’m not going to apologize for that.”
Todd takes a swing at Joel, but Joel dodges with the reflexes of a cheetah, and sprints in the opposite direction toward the front yard.
Bill, still on the front stoop, perks up as he sees Joel run by. “What’s up, guy?”
Joel shouts a few choice words: “Trying… to… kill… me…”
Bill watches Todd sprint from the side of the house. Bill holds out his arm, and clotheslines Joel’s pursuer. Todd gets the wind knocked out of him, landing flat on his back. Bill pulls him up by his shirt. “You got a problem, guy?” Bill cracks Todd across the face. “You got a problem with Riggins, you got a problem with me, son.” He continues to wail on Todd, as the party empties out of the house. Jennifer leaps into the scuffle, screaming for Bill to stop.
Rix takes in the scene, and mutters, “Well, this party’s over.” His sentiment is confirmed by the approaching sound of police sirens.Bill is restrained by his crew, and Jennifer begins screaming at her fiancé through tear-filled eyes.
Rix raises his voice to the crowd at the outer edge of the fight. “Who wants to do some lines back at my place?” And with that, the party breaks up, and its members leave with a sense of urgency.
Dan grabs his cousin Jack by the collar of his brown polo shirt. “Pull yourself together, Jack. We gotta get outta here.”
Jack mutters, “I’ll… piss up your nose…”
As a girl from the party settles into the passenger seat of her friend’s car, she screams at the sight of Donnie Savia’s cock and balls pressed against the window. Donnie laughs to himself as he puts his package away, leaving a clear imprint on the glass in the shape of a rocket ship.
“Hey Donnie!” shouts Joel. “Let’s get the hell outta here.”
“Sure.”
The two boys walk off down the road. “I can’t believe you ran, guy. What a pussy.”
“Ya sister’s tits. Fights are pointless, guy. They only last for like, two seconds before someone breaks ‘em up. I say run, and live to fight another day.”
* * *
Back at the house, the police finally arrive. The two squad cars park in the street, and the cops knock on the front door. “Hello? Milford Police. We’re coming in.”The two cops enter the house, and look at the devastation. Beer cans litter the carpets, and broken glass is everywhere. Cartoon penises have been drawn on almost every surface. In the family room, the sound of a Seinfeld rerun blasts on the TV.
“Shut that off, will ya?” says one of the cops. Suddenly, Andy comes staggering into the house from the back porch, wearing nothing but a pair of briefs filled with ice. “Poor bastard,” says the cop. “He’ll be sterile for a week.”
The other cop switches off the TV in the family room, where three of Bill’s workers have passed out, including another kid painted white. One of the boys wakes up as the TV goes off.
“What? You’re not gonna let me watch Seinfeld?” he asks.
* * *
Joel and Donnie continue their walk down the street. “Well, I gotta say… they don’t get much better than that.”“That’s right, guy. Too bad I didn’t give out any of those T-shirts we had made. Y'know, spread the franchise.”
“Well, there’s always next weekend.” Joel nudges him. “Come on. Let’s go to Lyons’ house and play some Street Fighter II.”
“Now you’re talkin’,” says Donnie. They walk on, into the night. “’CAUSE SHE GOT A--!”
NEXT: EPILOGUE (ONE YEAR LATER)
