11:29

“Hey.”

“Hey!”

“Wha?”

“Hey. Did you know it was November 29?”

“Nope. So…?”

“It’s almost the end of November. Less than a month to Xmas. A few days short of a month to the new year!”

“I repeat: so?”

“So? So! Jeezus, dude, it’s almost over.”

“What? What is almost over? What is the big whoop? What the f… … Forgive me, I mean what in the name of ‘Jeesus’ are you gibbering about?”

“The year dude, the year… The year is almost over. The experiment, the one-upmanship, the plan, the freaking story. The. Year. Is. Almost. Over!”

“Oh… that.”

“Yes ‘THAT’!”

“Chill. I gotta plan. Every-ting is copasetic man. No drama.”

“Oooh, the man’s gotta plan. Have you looked at the thing lately. The outta-control trainwreck of a narrative, have ya? Ain’t no ‘plan’ gonna do at this point. Unless it’s a zombie plan and everyone goes running and screaming trying to protect their brains from all this horseshit.”

“Seriously: chill. If you ain’t buying, then go shop somewhere else. I said I have it handled and I do. It’s been handled so smoothly you are totally gonna blush your sweet little cheeks. So just chill.”

“Dude, you really don’t know what’s been happening. You’ve had your head shoved up your own arse so far you ain’t see sunshine for weeks. Read my lips: T R A I N W R E C K! (douchebag….)”

“Heh. Have it your way. But don’t come whimpering got me when you lose control my scruffly little unbeliever from the supper smoothness of my plan. Smooth as Jennifer Biel’s butt, compadre, smooth as Shania’s udder-creamed boobs, So smooth that…”

“Ya, ya. You all are smoothy smootherson. I get it. But I’ll believe it when I read. And that, my creamy friend is my point. It is the freaking end of NOVEMBER!”

“Sigh.”