We tried, honestly, we did.
We wanted to be good. But it didn't work out that way for his window.
You see, he wouldn't answer his door, even though he had called us for help. We were his S.O.S. response team. Fat Jerry leaned his weight against the door and it began to groan at the middle. The hinges held tight, and the deadbolt did not waver.
I said, “Wait, let’s think about this. He need help, and he is wigged out of his head, so he won’t answer the door.”
I held my eye to the peephole and could not see a thing. Yup. He’d probably stuffed the thing with a tissue paper or something.
I said, “Well, we will break and enter, but a window pane costs less than a door frame.”
So that is what we did. Always mind your leather. It can help in in any situation. An elbow to the window? Not bad for you at all, if you don’t go too far in. Use all of your might, fast as you can, but prepare to stop just below the surface. You see, it will not make a loud ringing noise like a rock will do. You will not get cut.
Fat Jerry really enjoyed breaking things, so we let him do this. He was giggling all along as he did it. When the sound of the shards hitting the toilet echoed in the apartment, he laughed out loud with glee.
Joey said, “Hey man, don’t be so loud. We could get in trouble for this. Police come: we got some explaining to do, and Sean won’t be able to talk straight. Jeez dude.”
Yeah it was Joey who got lifted up by Jerry and chucked through the window. Jerry was big and Joey was not, but he was fearless. You know, Sean was nowhere to be found. So Joey let us in through the front door. Where was he? Certainly he would not have left his place of safety, in his mental frame of mind?
Here is a song called Picture of Health by Parquet Courts
His shitty apartment was lit up with every light bulb and it was as silent as a tomb in there.
Now, it was not my idea to just start opening up closets and yelling “BOO!” into them. It would have been much better if we talked in reassuring tones and coaxed him out from under the couch, or from the attic, like we were talking to a cat. “Here Seany Seany… I have a nice bowl of warm milk for you.”
Well, we found him inside the closet in the bedroom. He was hidden under a pile of quivering clothing.
“BOO!”
“AGHH! FUCK YOU!”
He kicked his feet and swung his fists through the pants and shirts. He got up very fats for such a big guy and he charged us. That was pretty impressive, I tell you.
Then he saw that it was us when his eyes adjusted to the light, and this did not change his behavior. He was relieved, but also, he was now very angry with us.
It would not be the last time that he and Fat Jerry wrestled, but it sure was fun to watch. Of course, Joey and I stepped out into the hallway as them two men grunted and swung each other about, breaking the bed frame and smashing the table and the lamp on it. The dresser got knocked sideways and that was when Joey and I shouted that enough was enough.
You shouldn't break a dresser. It’s bad form.
“Hey Sean! You called us for help! Now we are here! What is your complaint?!”
It worked.
Sean pushed Fat Jerry away and they both wheezed hard, eyeing each other like angry kindergarten kids.
He coughed a couple times and said, “There’s a lot of spiders in this place!”
But no, there weren't any. He was just under the influence of ZID.
Huh.
How about that.
.