Marriage? That sounds lame.

A story about marriage. Just two bros talking about what young dudes think about marriage.

“Wanna get down on some Medal of Duty?”

“Yeah.”

 

It was a rare day off for me. Jim had started working the stock room and was free every weekend. It left him a lot of time to get good at Medal of Duty 4, as well as squeezing in the occasional assignment.

                Jim gripped the controller with the poise of a professional athlete. If there was a league, He would surely be its LeBron James. Though Jim was eviscerating terrorist with his usual efficiency, something seemed odd.

 

“I asked Wendy to marry me.”

 

I was stunned. It was as if a flashbang had flew from the screen and gone off in my face. Jim didn’t seem like the marriage type. I didn’t know what to make of it. Jim getting married was like the Grim Reaper screwing a knot hole in the tree of life, or some other comparable analogy. It was just unnatural.

                Jim sat there affixed. He was hoping that I’d to act like a decent friend and congratulate him, but we both knew that I was genetically incapable of anything but raw fresh squeezed cynicism. 

“Save the date man, I want you there man.”

“Yeah, but are you sure this is the right decision?”

“Yeah man, it’s about time I settle down with someone who’ll keep me out of trouble”

 

Not Jim, I never thought they’d get him. Jim was a hero. Like an assassin, many women had tried to capture him but had all fallen to his meticulous skill. If there was no hope for him, what of the rest of us. He really had no idea; he had been sold the biggest hoax in human history and was powerless to stop it.

 

“This is the right decision man. I got this”

“I’m sorry to break this to you man, but marriage is a scam bro. A scam fo sho.”

“What?”

“You see, back in the day man all the greeting card companies got together and created this global system of control. At the behest of the femo-fascist, the greeting card companies and diamond cartels created this system of sociological control, open your eyes man!”

“What the **** are you talking about.”

“Think about it man! It all makes sense. I have this website you should see with staggering statistics. Did you know that fifty percent of all marriages fail? That’s just a conservative estimate dude. And wedding rings were invented during World War Two for all those leaving G.I.’s. Now you want to buy a conflict diamond and sell yourself to their global system of control. You lose man.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. And I watch fox news.”

“Ouch. We have to get you deprogrammed. Come on, the van will be here in five.”

“I think we should have a talk man.”

 

Jim was about to set me straight on the issue. It was laughable that my eccentricity had come to the point where Jim of all people had to set me straight on relationships. Jim switched off the game. The Negotiator Was on HBO.

Jim looked stern, almost serious. It was as if a decade of pot smoking had been erased by my impertinence on the subject of marriage.

 

“I wanna ask you some questions man, they may explain your views towards marriage.”

“Go on.”

 

Jim paused, “But first I want to ask you about The Negotiator.”

 

“Yeah?”

“You’re black, correct?”

I pinched the folds on skin between my eyes, straining to release the anger and almost physical pain the stupidity of Jim’s question had caused me.

 

“Why yes. Thanks for noticing.”

“And you’re hair is black?”

“Yes.”

“Then why the **** is Samuel L Jackson’s Hair reddish-brown in this movie?”

“I have often pondered the same myself. I think it’s because this is mediocre movie film filled with over acting and unrealistic gimmicks. The hair seems to make sense in that context.”

“I see. One thing is for sure: Kevin Spacey was the bomb in that movie.”

“Fo Sho.”

 

Jim was right. Kevin Spacey gave an undeniably good performance in The Negotiator.

 

“I’m ready for your questions. Shoot.”

“Ok, name something that filled you with joy today”

“Well earlier I saw a commercial that had that hot esurance cartoon girl in it, but in 3d. I mean you could see everything…in 3d. That filled me with joy, then I had to hit the bathroom and-“

“Wow. That’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You’ve never been to a herpes dating website then.”

Laughing hysterically, Jim said “And you have?”

“For lulz man. There’s some funny stuff on there.”

“That’s not nice man.”

“Hey. Herpes is the leprosy of the twenty first century and must be treated accordingly.”

“Where’s Jesus when you need him.”

“Don’t trip pimp, they’ve got valtrex and a new lease on life.”

 

We were quickly getting off track.

 

“Question number two: what was your greatest personal achievement today?”

“Well, through extensive research I discovered that the China town map in Medal of Duty four is actually just a re-skinning of the France map in Medal of Duty 2. It’s just modern instead of World War Two.”

“Impressive.”

“I know. I dam near had a nergasm. I was worried the whole time that I was going to prematurely geek all over my keyboard.”

“I am both disgusted and embarrassed at the same time.”

“Hey!” I said mockingly “, at least now you know how Wendy feels while having sex with you.”

“Zing!”

“I know, thank you.”

 

Wow, I just totally pwned Jim with that one. The fool didn’t even see it coming.

 

“Question three: do you find yourself using a lot of internet memes?”

“What are those?”

“Things like lulz, pwned, nerdgasm, and so one”

Oh ****.

“Occasionally. What are you getting at?”

“I’m just saying, maybe you need to put the keyboard down and get outta of your box man, and in to another box. Like the one in a woman’s pants.”

                Jim was crude. Through his Neanderthal style existentialism, he had found me out for what I truly was.

“You don’t want to be like this forever do you?”

“I suppose not, but I also don’t want to join the flocks of sheeple out there eating there grass and fornicating all over the place.”

                Yes. Yes I did. I really just wanted to save my game and turn my life to love o’clock.

“You gotta find what’s right for you in this world man, and it exist outside the land of fictionalized violence I am currently dominating”

“Look out dude, if you decapitate another guy you’ll face UN sanctions.”

“Good looking out, but don’t pretend you didn’t hear me. Don’t you want better highlights than the esurance girl?”

“Yeah. Hey! Why the **** am I taking advice from a guy who got so good at cheating that he stopped wearing pants with zippers for efficiencies sake?”

“I don’t wanna be a playa no more”

“You’re not a player Jim. You just crush a lot.”

“Well said.”

 

Jim was right. There had to be something beyond this room, something beyond the smell of Fritos, weed, and Pabst Blue Ribbon. I was going to find it.

 

“I guess I’ve got to be like Rhiana.”

“Get beat up?”

“Too soon man. Naw, just live my life”

“Eh-a Eh-a Eh-a, Instead of chasing that paper”

“… Don’t ever do that again.”

 

I guess my layman’s epiphany is where this little story began.

 

 

 

Author's Note

ignore grammar problems, what do you think of the dialogue, etc.