Post by Zane on Mar 24, 2022 11:28:08 GMT -5
Saturday Night
Like, late, man.
There's hair. A lot of it. A practical Mount Everest of hair. It's so much hair that it looks gaudy as if a Hairlien attacked a human and attached itself to the victim's head. So what does one do with so much hair? How does one combat this follicle explosion?
One greases down the comb-like one is hitching up a tractor-trailer and traps it on one's head.
Duh.
Zane glides the comb back with a majestic swipe, admiring the revival of new locks on his dome as it's forced into place. He bops back, swinging with the tempo of the music before he places the comb down, runs his hands over his majestic dark locks and smiles at what he sees in the mirror.
"All riiiight!" He exclaims to himself. "I look fine! Ain't nothing to fear tonight!"
He looks down at the clock and smiles at the bright red hands.
9:00
"Time to go!" He tells himself with a smile. "She'll be blown away!"
Well, my baby and me went out late Saturday night.
10:00
The large white-walled tires slow to a stop in front of a quaint-looking brownstone. He hops out and strolls up the stairs with a smile. He knocks politely on the door, then waits. He runs his hand through his hair one more time for good measure.
I had my hair piled high.
The door swings open with a low squeak.
“HEY-EYYYYYYY!!!!”
A flood of pink, wide-bottomed hoop skirts comes through the door first. The camera slowly pans upwards to show an extremely skinny figure with heavily tattooed arms. It finally gets to her head to reveal long, curly blonde hair and a pair of dangling saxophone earrings.
Over the Dark Destroyer’s face.
Zane seems oblivious to this and leans forward, kissing Destroyher gently on the cheek. (No funny stuff where the parents might see, after all. Parents are SO square!)
and my baby just looked so right.
He looks her (?) up and down, smiling broadly.
“You’re looking SO right!” He proclaims, drawing a shy smile in return.
He turns back towards the door as her father steps forward. He’s a giant of a man, easily seven feet tall. And his face is painted. In white. With black around his eyes, and black paint that extends up his face from around his mouth like a weird grin. Both of his ears are pierced, with two hoop rings in the left ear and one in the right.
“Don’t bring her back too late,” He comments with a smile. “Or she won’t be able to conquer school tomorrow! We wouldn’t want her to be so tired that it costs her those straight A’s!”
Zane smiles and nods his head as his girl nearly trips over her own heels and comes perilously close to falling down the stairs before she’s saved by Zane reaching out and grabbing her hand without even looking as if he’s done this a million times before.
“Don’t worry, sir. I won’t have her back too late!”
Well, pick you up and ten, gonna get you home at two.
“Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!” her mountain of a father says in a commandingly deep voice.
“We won’t!” Zane replies with a look of innocence.
His girl’s father gives him a strange sideways look as if he knows that’s not entirely true.
“Her mother will be very upset with you if you do!”
Your mama don't know what I got in store for you.
Zane turns and looks at the camera, blatantly breaking the fourth wall.
“Is it just me, or is that line a little rapey?” He asks, clearly a bit disgusted by it. “Plus its shit grammar…”
No one seems to notice. Zane says goodnight to her father and walks Destroyher down to his car. He holds the door open and she gets in, once again nearly avoiding a pratfall moment. He closes the door once she’s in and walks around to the car. Once he’s in they look at each other and smile.
“Baby that's all right we're looking as cool as can be.”
The two rub noses in one of those weird-looking moments that people thought were cute in the fifties. They were such weird times. Just roll with it.
“The Rock” and Roll Club
We found a little place that really didn't look half bad.
“This place doesn’t look half bad.”
I just said that.
“Bartender, whiskey on the rocks please!”
The bartender, who has a comically large and arched left eyebrow nods and begins preparing the drink. Every employee of this club has one of these exaggerated eyebrows on, although the attire alternates between a sweater and slacks combo with a forward-facing fanny pack, to a simple sleeveless leather vest outfit, to obnoxiously loud shirts. Zane puts his hand in his pocket and pulls out a dollar. He looks at the bartender as he slides the drink across the bar.
“Can I get change of a dollar for the jukebox?”
The bartender nods and takes the dollar, quickly handing over four quarters. Zane walks over to the jukebox, holding hands with his girlfriend along the way. He hands Destroyher the quarters. They talk about the song list and she fumbles around with the quarters before he gently takes them from her hand and slips one into the jukebox. He and his lady walk onto the dance floor and begin to dance.
But all it played was disco, man.
They stop dancing and look at each other, clearly unhappy with the music. Zane goes and retrieves their jackets, slips hers over her shoulders, and leans over her shoulder to whisper something in her ear.
“Come on pretty baby, let's get out of here right away.”
He kisses Destroyher on the neck and they leave.
We're gonna rock this town
Rock it inside out
We're gonna rock this town
Make 'em scream and shout
Let's rock, rock, rock, man, rock
We're gonna rock 'til we pop
Gonna roll 'til we drop
Rock this town
Rock it inside out
Hell Club
The two are having a ball tearing up the big dance floor as they groove to the live house band, which appears to be being recorded for a live television broadcast by local station 666 WPTF. There are bubbles floating around the stage as the vocalist, decked out in a bright red jacket, white shirt and a bright red bowtie which matches his extremely red hair croons the lyrics. He bears a strong resemblance to a UGWC Legend, Hall of Famer, and Living Weapon.
“In the afterlife
You could be headed for the serious strife
Now you make the scene all day
But tomorrow there'll be Hell to pay”.
As the two dance a man eyes them up and down, seemingly especially offended by Zane’s lady friend. Given his outfit, he looks like he’s stuck in nineteen seventy-four. He’s short, bald and angry-looking with a pair of chains hanging around his neck. He glares at Zane once, and then twice. Zane notices him and glares back.
“Look at me again and there’s gonna be a fight.”
The vocalist continues singing.
“In the afterlife
You could be headed for the serious strife
Now you make the scene all-day
But tomorrow there'll be Hell to pay.”
It’s then that the man rolls his sleeves up. Zane gently moves his girlfriend behind him and stands in front of her defensively.
“Keep it up and we’re gonna rock this town and tear this place apart.” Zane threatens.
The man backs off when he notices the bouncers walking towards them. Both are large, to say the least. The one on the right is at least six-foot five with black hair and the appearance of a man who’s been involved in a lot of violence. He has a patch on his jacket which says “Paramount Security”. The other is a bald man with steel gray eyes. He also looks like one who's done a lot of fighting in his life. Perhaps some on foreign territory.
We're gonna rock this town
Rock it inside out
The vocalist continues singing as the two men close in.
“People listen attentively
I mean about future calamity
I used to think the idea was obsolete
Until I heard the old man stamping his feet.”
The dark-haired guard taps his foot on the floor and clearly tells the belligerent man to calm down or leave. The other menacingly puts his hand down to his hip on his weapon. It’s a trumpet. His partner is armed with a pair of drumsticks.
Then the door opens.
Everyone turns to look at it. A cold-eyed man stands silhouetted by the streetlights. He begins to rant, loudly, mirroring the house band as he waves a book over his head. Oddly, although his face is fully visible it seems to remain in shadow, no matter which direction he moves in.
“Beauty, talent, fame, money, refinement, job skill, and brain! But all the things you try to hide, Will be revealed on the other side!”
The guards swarm him, but he continues to yell as the band plays on and the accompanying vocalists sing.
“In the afterlife
You could be headed for the serious strife
Now you make the scene all day!”
The man at the door yells over them.
“Meet the furnace!” as the band continues to sing.
“But tomorrow there'll be Hell to pay!”
The man yells again.
“Yes it is! It is hot!”
We get a look at the book in his hand as he waves it over his head during his struggle with the guards. It reads;
“Book of the Phreak”.
Meanwhile, everyone on the floor has gone back to dancing.
We're gonna rock this town
Make 'em scream and shout
Let's rock, rock, rock, man, rock
We're gonna rock 'til we pop
Gonna roll 'til we drop
Rock this town
Rock it inside out
The man at the door points directly at Zane and his girlfriend then breaks free from the guards. He bolts up to them with astounding quickness and gets right up in Zane’s face.
“Now the D and A and the M and the N and the A, and the T and the I-O-N! Lose your face! Lose your name! Then get fitted for a suit of flames!”
The band echoes his words, almost as if coordinated with him. Zane stares at the man balefully as his girlfriend stands behind him with her arms clutched around one of his.
“You freak, shut your fucking mouth!”
This only seems to further inflame the man.
“Cause we’re all dead! You’re all dead!” He threatens coldly.
The guards gain control of the man again, dragging him from the club as he hisses his invective at everyone generally, and Zane and his girlfriend specifically. It’s clear that she’s terrified and Zane envelops her in his arms to comfort her.
“It’s ok, beautiful. That man is a disgusting man who looks like he spends most of his time barely able to stand up. He’s the kind of man who if you saw him on the streets, you’d point out to your friends so you could join in mocking him. A man who if you saw him while you were eating, you wouldn’t be able to finish your meal.”
His words don't appear to calm her.
“I bet that he was the kind of man who at one time dedicated his life to making money, by lying with every breath he could muster. He’s the kind of man who was dedicated to keeping murders and rapists on the streets.”
“Why’s he like this now?” She asks as she pushes her blonde hair away from her very…painted face.
Zane sighs sympathetically.
“I think he finally realized that spending an entire lifetime looking for the weaknesses and evil in others was really just him hiding from his own. He’s probably made grand-sounding statements to the contrary, but in the end, it was all just a mind game against himself, even if he and others believed it wasn’t.”
The man bursts through the door again and it reveals that his clothes were very expensive at one time, instead of the ragged and haggard appearance that he presents now.
“So ugly on the inside that she couldn't bear to go on living if she couldn't be beautiful on the outside!” he states with clear malevolence, in spite of his even tone.
He pauses to take a breath, then continues.
“A drug dealer, a drug-dealing pederast actually, and let's not forget the disease-spreading whore!”
He’s quickly swarmed by security again.
“He’s so scary!” She exclaims.
Zane chuckles and rubs the back of his hand down her face reassuringly.
“That’s what he wants you to think,” he explains.
Another of the man’s insane bellows makes it through the door.
“Could you even try to say that these were innocent people and keep a straight face?"
Zane looks at him and shakes his head sympathetically.
“In his mind, we see a deadly sin on every street corner, in every home, we tolerate it, we tolerate it because it's common of us. Because it is trivial. We tolerate it morning, noon, and night.” he explains. “Now he has to claim greatness from others to make up for his own failures. That wears on a man after a while. To him, life is a series of conquests to be claimed in order to finally take his place at the top of the world.”
He pauses.
“It’s the only thing that’ll pacify him,” he continues. “At least for a little while. It’ll never replace that emptiness, and it’ll never cover over the hall of mirrors that exists inside of him.”
She continues to press herself against him, then reaches into her pocketbook and pulls a box out. She hands it to him. He looks down at it with a smile.
“What is it?” He asks.
“Take a look.” She replies.
Zane opens the box and looks into it. The belligerent man from earlier suddenly shoves his way between them. He has a weapon in his hand, although instead of it being a weapon, it looks like a clarinet.
"Show me what was in the box. What was in the box?" He wails, "Aw, what's in the box?"
Zane shoves him away and notices an item dangling from his hand. He looks down into the box to see that the man has the contents in his hand.
“What's in the fucking box?”
Zane’s girlfriend goes to answer, but the man cuts her off.
“You lie! You're a fucking liar! Shut up!”
At this point, Zane goes to lunge forward when someone grabs the man from behind and presses a shiny item against his throat. It appears to be a tiny trombone.
“Give the nice people back their trinket,” he calmly threatens. “I’ll have none of this silly behavior in my establishment.”
Zane looks at the proprietor. He has short and nearly cut brown hair and brown eyes, which almost seem bottomless, although that could be a trick of the low light.
“Return it,” the proprietor hisses. “Now.”
The man slowly leans forward and drops it into Zane’s hand. The proprietor looks over the man’s shoulder at Zane.
“My apologies.” He states. “This man will trouble you no more.”
Zane nods in thanks and looks down at the item. His girlfriend takes it from his hand and places it around his neck. It’s a shiny gold plate with his name on it which is mounted on two thin leather straps, which have their adorning gold plates of their own. She clips it around his neck and gives him a quick peck on the cheek.
“You deserve this,” she says lovingly. “You’ve been through so much.”
He smiles and looks down at her.
“Come on, baby. We're gonna rock this town, rock it inside out. We're gonna rock this town,
tear it up, we're gonna rip it down. Rock this town. Rock it inside out.”
The two lean down to kiss each other.
“GAHH!”
Zane suddenly jerks awake, wide-eyed. He jumps up off of his couch and looks around in confusion for a few seconds before he looks at the bottle that’s in his hand.
“I’m never drinking this shit again...”
End.
Like, late, man.
There's hair. A lot of it. A practical Mount Everest of hair. It's so much hair that it looks gaudy as if a Hairlien attacked a human and attached itself to the victim's head. So what does one do with so much hair? How does one combat this follicle explosion?
One greases down the comb-like one is hitching up a tractor-trailer and traps it on one's head.
Duh.
Zane glides the comb back with a majestic swipe, admiring the revival of new locks on his dome as it's forced into place. He bops back, swinging with the tempo of the music before he places the comb down, runs his hands over his majestic dark locks and smiles at what he sees in the mirror.
"All riiiight!" He exclaims to himself. "I look fine! Ain't nothing to fear tonight!"
He looks down at the clock and smiles at the bright red hands.
9:00
"Time to go!" He tells himself with a smile. "She'll be blown away!"
Well, my baby and me went out late Saturday night.
10:00
The large white-walled tires slow to a stop in front of a quaint-looking brownstone. He hops out and strolls up the stairs with a smile. He knocks politely on the door, then waits. He runs his hand through his hair one more time for good measure.
I had my hair piled high.
The door swings open with a low squeak.
“HEY-EYYYYYYY!!!!”
A flood of pink, wide-bottomed hoop skirts comes through the door first. The camera slowly pans upwards to show an extremely skinny figure with heavily tattooed arms. It finally gets to her head to reveal long, curly blonde hair and a pair of dangling saxophone earrings.
Over the Dark Destroyer’s face.
Zane seems oblivious to this and leans forward, kissing Destroyher gently on the cheek. (No funny stuff where the parents might see, after all. Parents are SO square!)
and my baby just looked so right.
He looks her (?) up and down, smiling broadly.
“You’re looking SO right!” He proclaims, drawing a shy smile in return.
He turns back towards the door as her father steps forward. He’s a giant of a man, easily seven feet tall. And his face is painted. In white. With black around his eyes, and black paint that extends up his face from around his mouth like a weird grin. Both of his ears are pierced, with two hoop rings in the left ear and one in the right.
“Don’t bring her back too late,” He comments with a smile. “Or she won’t be able to conquer school tomorrow! We wouldn’t want her to be so tired that it costs her those straight A’s!”
Zane smiles and nods his head as his girl nearly trips over her own heels and comes perilously close to falling down the stairs before she’s saved by Zane reaching out and grabbing her hand without even looking as if he’s done this a million times before.
“Don’t worry, sir. I won’t have her back too late!”
Well, pick you up and ten, gonna get you home at two.
“Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!” her mountain of a father says in a commandingly deep voice.
“We won’t!” Zane replies with a look of innocence.
His girl’s father gives him a strange sideways look as if he knows that’s not entirely true.
“Her mother will be very upset with you if you do!”
Your mama don't know what I got in store for you.
Zane turns and looks at the camera, blatantly breaking the fourth wall.
“Is it just me, or is that line a little rapey?” He asks, clearly a bit disgusted by it. “Plus its shit grammar…”
No one seems to notice. Zane says goodnight to her father and walks Destroyher down to his car. He holds the door open and she gets in, once again nearly avoiding a pratfall moment. He closes the door once she’s in and walks around to the car. Once he’s in they look at each other and smile.
“Baby that's all right we're looking as cool as can be.”
The two rub noses in one of those weird-looking moments that people thought were cute in the fifties. They were such weird times. Just roll with it.
“The Rock” and Roll Club
We found a little place that really didn't look half bad.
“This place doesn’t look half bad.”
I just said that.
“Bartender, whiskey on the rocks please!”
The bartender, who has a comically large and arched left eyebrow nods and begins preparing the drink. Every employee of this club has one of these exaggerated eyebrows on, although the attire alternates between a sweater and slacks combo with a forward-facing fanny pack, to a simple sleeveless leather vest outfit, to obnoxiously loud shirts. Zane puts his hand in his pocket and pulls out a dollar. He looks at the bartender as he slides the drink across the bar.
“Can I get change of a dollar for the jukebox?”
The bartender nods and takes the dollar, quickly handing over four quarters. Zane walks over to the jukebox, holding hands with his girlfriend along the way. He hands Destroyher the quarters. They talk about the song list and she fumbles around with the quarters before he gently takes them from her hand and slips one into the jukebox. He and his lady walk onto the dance floor and begin to dance.
But all it played was disco, man.
They stop dancing and look at each other, clearly unhappy with the music. Zane goes and retrieves their jackets, slips hers over her shoulders, and leans over her shoulder to whisper something in her ear.
“Come on pretty baby, let's get out of here right away.”
He kisses Destroyher on the neck and they leave.
We're gonna rock this town
Rock it inside out
We're gonna rock this town
Make 'em scream and shout
Let's rock, rock, rock, man, rock
We're gonna rock 'til we pop
Gonna roll 'til we drop
Rock this town
Rock it inside out
Hell Club
The two are having a ball tearing up the big dance floor as they groove to the live house band, which appears to be being recorded for a live television broadcast by local station 666 WPTF. There are bubbles floating around the stage as the vocalist, decked out in a bright red jacket, white shirt and a bright red bowtie which matches his extremely red hair croons the lyrics. He bears a strong resemblance to a UGWC Legend, Hall of Famer, and Living Weapon.
“In the afterlife
You could be headed for the serious strife
Now you make the scene all day
But tomorrow there'll be Hell to pay”.
As the two dance a man eyes them up and down, seemingly especially offended by Zane’s lady friend. Given his outfit, he looks like he’s stuck in nineteen seventy-four. He’s short, bald and angry-looking with a pair of chains hanging around his neck. He glares at Zane once, and then twice. Zane notices him and glares back.
“Look at me again and there’s gonna be a fight.”
The vocalist continues singing.
“In the afterlife
You could be headed for the serious strife
Now you make the scene all-day
But tomorrow there'll be Hell to pay.”
It’s then that the man rolls his sleeves up. Zane gently moves his girlfriend behind him and stands in front of her defensively.
“Keep it up and we’re gonna rock this town and tear this place apart.” Zane threatens.
The man backs off when he notices the bouncers walking towards them. Both are large, to say the least. The one on the right is at least six-foot five with black hair and the appearance of a man who’s been involved in a lot of violence. He has a patch on his jacket which says “Paramount Security”. The other is a bald man with steel gray eyes. He also looks like one who's done a lot of fighting in his life. Perhaps some on foreign territory.
We're gonna rock this town
Rock it inside out
The vocalist continues singing as the two men close in.
“People listen attentively
I mean about future calamity
I used to think the idea was obsolete
Until I heard the old man stamping his feet.”
The dark-haired guard taps his foot on the floor and clearly tells the belligerent man to calm down or leave. The other menacingly puts his hand down to his hip on his weapon. It’s a trumpet. His partner is armed with a pair of drumsticks.
Then the door opens.
Everyone turns to look at it. A cold-eyed man stands silhouetted by the streetlights. He begins to rant, loudly, mirroring the house band as he waves a book over his head. Oddly, although his face is fully visible it seems to remain in shadow, no matter which direction he moves in.
“Beauty, talent, fame, money, refinement, job skill, and brain! But all the things you try to hide, Will be revealed on the other side!”
The guards swarm him, but he continues to yell as the band plays on and the accompanying vocalists sing.
“In the afterlife
You could be headed for the serious strife
Now you make the scene all day!”
The man at the door yells over them.
“Meet the furnace!” as the band continues to sing.
“But tomorrow there'll be Hell to pay!”
The man yells again.
“Yes it is! It is hot!”
We get a look at the book in his hand as he waves it over his head during his struggle with the guards. It reads;
“Book of the Phreak”.
Meanwhile, everyone on the floor has gone back to dancing.
We're gonna rock this town
Make 'em scream and shout
Let's rock, rock, rock, man, rock
We're gonna rock 'til we pop
Gonna roll 'til we drop
Rock this town
Rock it inside out
The man at the door points directly at Zane and his girlfriend then breaks free from the guards. He bolts up to them with astounding quickness and gets right up in Zane’s face.
“Now the D and A and the M and the N and the A, and the T and the I-O-N! Lose your face! Lose your name! Then get fitted for a suit of flames!”
The band echoes his words, almost as if coordinated with him. Zane stares at the man balefully as his girlfriend stands behind him with her arms clutched around one of his.
“You freak, shut your fucking mouth!”
This only seems to further inflame the man.
“Cause we’re all dead! You’re all dead!” He threatens coldly.
The guards gain control of the man again, dragging him from the club as he hisses his invective at everyone generally, and Zane and his girlfriend specifically. It’s clear that she’s terrified and Zane envelops her in his arms to comfort her.
“It’s ok, beautiful. That man is a disgusting man who looks like he spends most of his time barely able to stand up. He’s the kind of man who if you saw him on the streets, you’d point out to your friends so you could join in mocking him. A man who if you saw him while you were eating, you wouldn’t be able to finish your meal.”
His words don't appear to calm her.
“I bet that he was the kind of man who at one time dedicated his life to making money, by lying with every breath he could muster. He’s the kind of man who was dedicated to keeping murders and rapists on the streets.”
“Why’s he like this now?” She asks as she pushes her blonde hair away from her very…painted face.
Zane sighs sympathetically.
“I think he finally realized that spending an entire lifetime looking for the weaknesses and evil in others was really just him hiding from his own. He’s probably made grand-sounding statements to the contrary, but in the end, it was all just a mind game against himself, even if he and others believed it wasn’t.”
The man bursts through the door again and it reveals that his clothes were very expensive at one time, instead of the ragged and haggard appearance that he presents now.
“So ugly on the inside that she couldn't bear to go on living if she couldn't be beautiful on the outside!” he states with clear malevolence, in spite of his even tone.
He pauses to take a breath, then continues.
“A drug dealer, a drug-dealing pederast actually, and let's not forget the disease-spreading whore!”
He’s quickly swarmed by security again.
“He’s so scary!” She exclaims.
Zane chuckles and rubs the back of his hand down her face reassuringly.
“That’s what he wants you to think,” he explains.
Another of the man’s insane bellows makes it through the door.
“Could you even try to say that these were innocent people and keep a straight face?"
Zane looks at him and shakes his head sympathetically.
“In his mind, we see a deadly sin on every street corner, in every home, we tolerate it, we tolerate it because it's common of us. Because it is trivial. We tolerate it morning, noon, and night.” he explains. “Now he has to claim greatness from others to make up for his own failures. That wears on a man after a while. To him, life is a series of conquests to be claimed in order to finally take his place at the top of the world.”
He pauses.
“It’s the only thing that’ll pacify him,” he continues. “At least for a little while. It’ll never replace that emptiness, and it’ll never cover over the hall of mirrors that exists inside of him.”
She continues to press herself against him, then reaches into her pocketbook and pulls a box out. She hands it to him. He looks down at it with a smile.
“What is it?” He asks.
“Take a look.” She replies.
Zane opens the box and looks into it. The belligerent man from earlier suddenly shoves his way between them. He has a weapon in his hand, although instead of it being a weapon, it looks like a clarinet.
"Show me what was in the box. What was in the box?" He wails, "Aw, what's in the box?"
Zane shoves him away and notices an item dangling from his hand. He looks down into the box to see that the man has the contents in his hand.
“What's in the fucking box?”
Zane’s girlfriend goes to answer, but the man cuts her off.
“You lie! You're a fucking liar! Shut up!”
At this point, Zane goes to lunge forward when someone grabs the man from behind and presses a shiny item against his throat. It appears to be a tiny trombone.
“Give the nice people back their trinket,” he calmly threatens. “I’ll have none of this silly behavior in my establishment.”
Zane looks at the proprietor. He has short and nearly cut brown hair and brown eyes, which almost seem bottomless, although that could be a trick of the low light.
“Return it,” the proprietor hisses. “Now.”
The man slowly leans forward and drops it into Zane’s hand. The proprietor looks over the man’s shoulder at Zane.
“My apologies.” He states. “This man will trouble you no more.”
Zane nods in thanks and looks down at the item. His girlfriend takes it from his hand and places it around his neck. It’s a shiny gold plate with his name on it which is mounted on two thin leather straps, which have their adorning gold plates of their own. She clips it around his neck and gives him a quick peck on the cheek.
“You deserve this,” she says lovingly. “You’ve been through so much.”
He smiles and looks down at her.
“Come on, baby. We're gonna rock this town, rock it inside out. We're gonna rock this town,
tear it up, we're gonna rip it down. Rock this town. Rock it inside out.”
The two lean down to kiss each other.
“GAHH!”
Zane suddenly jerks awake, wide-eyed. He jumps up off of his couch and looks around in confusion for a few seconds before he looks at the bottle that’s in his hand.
“I’m never drinking this shit again...”
End.
2013, '18, '23 
2013 
