Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Thou Shalt Not Be That Guy Dancing on the Coffee Table

I managed to escape from Brad's guest room using a safety pin and some loose string.

...Or some nice girl named Candy let me out.

(You decide, but keep in mind, one's a bit more exciting than the other.)

I found Brody downstairs in the living room, where what appeared to be a "Let's See Who Can Pass Out First" contest was going on.

Brody seemed to be winning.

ME: Brody...
BRODY: Hey Kev, awesome party, huh?
ME: Yeah, it's too bad you won't remember any of it.
BRODY: Don't be cray-cray. I'm totally under control.

That was when Brad appeared out of the crowd, like Scar from the pack of hyenas.

BRAD: Since all of you are clearly wasted beyond recognition, I think it's time for a little dance contest!

Out of nowhere, music started blaring, and somebody cleared off the coffee table.

BRODY: Oh sweet!

I grabbed Brody by the shoulders.

ME: Brody, listen to me. You do not want to be the guy dancing on the coffee table.
BRODY: Um, that's actually what I wanted to be when I grew up.

Now people where chanting--Brody, Brody, Brody.

Obviously Brad was trying to derail my progress.

BRODY: Kev, they're calling my name!
ME: Of course they are, Brody, because they don't have to live with you. You do. All they want is a mess to laugh at, but they have no intention of cleaning that mess up when the fun's over. Don't be the mess, Brody. Let somebody else do it.

I could see that he really wanted to just take off his shirt, and let loose, and normally there's nothing wrong with that every once in awhile, but for Brody, it would be like taking a quick drink after being on the wagon for a year.


BRODY: I'm going to go outside and get some air.

--He wanted to stay on the wagon.

ME: Good call.

I managed to rescue one of my students, but the others were still somewhere at the party.

I needed to get Brad out of my hair if I was going to have any hope of saving them all.

That's why I started chanting.

ME: Brad, Brad, Brad--

Brad looked at me with hate-filled eyes, but he never could turn down a chanting mob.

He was shirtless and on the coffee table in under a minute.

And a minute was all the time I needed.

No comments:

Post a Comment