Organ Harvesting

Zach: Hey Jess, I know you’re on the wagon and shit, but I think you should take a break and have some margaritas served in hubcaps.

Me: Are you talking about Nacho Mama’s? Those Elvis decorations make my labia shrivel…

Zach: JESSICA, I NEED A DRINKING BUDDY WHO WILL CONDONE MY STUPID DECISIONS BUT WON’T LET ME DIE! DON’T BE A PUSSY. DON’T WEAR THAT FUCKING HOODIE! I’LL BE AT YOUR PLACE IN 20.

I wore my hoodie anyway.

He went back to some girl’s place and I drove myself home with his car. I was supposed to pick him up this morning, but he’s not answering his cell.

Either his phone died, he’s still fucking her (YEAH RIGHT!), or she’s harvesting his organs.

If I find him in a tub of ice with his insides missing, I bet he’ll be sniggering with a cigarette in his mouth saying how he’s gotten over on her because his liver and kidneys are fucked and are worthless.

ZACH DON’T BE DEAD! I’M COMING FOR YOU!


UPDATE:

Zach finally called. He gave me the address of a Burger King and told me to meet him there. He asked the flavor of the evening to drop him off at said location so she wouldn’t know where he lived. Smart man.

We ate soft serve. I told him how I worried for his organs; he told me that he wouldn’t fuck her again.

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