Mike did not fall for it. Dammit.
"Wow, that hurts."
But he had at least pulled out his fucking sunglasses, which made it harder for Darius to not-laugh. After a quick chuckle, he began to talk serious real talk again.
"It is true, though."
He looked away from Mike.
"It totally is...He was like,"
Darius tried to imitate's Ben's annoying fuckface voice in a deep voice.
"Hey, you! This is the last time you do this kind of thing! And wham, he pulled my pants."
He eyed the skateboarders, oh this might be interesting. Wait, what was the last thing he said? Something about Ben.
"Nevermind Ben."
Darius saw something hilarious in the distance, a skater. He pointed his finger at him, so Mike could see him.
"HAH, look at that fat guy. Why does even skate? He doesn't need a skateboard, he needs a walker. Topkek."
A Magnet For Trouble
Michael knew Darius'd give up, a quick giggle for shits never last too long. Michael had watched Darius change his point of view to the piss poor skaters rolling around the place.
Darius pointed towards a particular hambeast who had as much trouble climbing up the ramp as he did riding down, just across the park.
"Jeezuz, is that the new character for Tony Hawk's hoveround racer?"
How did that fat fuck's board not break? Christ, no wonder everyone over there sucks at skating! They're stuck in this large lard-asses' fucking gravitational pull. Michael was inches away from exploding into laughter.
"Li-l-li-like, you can hear the fucking ramp creak every time he rolls down, holy shit!"
They were literally watching an adult Bobby Hill ride down a fucking ramp like he didn't weigh 300 pounds.
"Christ, more chins than a Chinese phone book, y'know, if he didn't weigh so fucking much, he could use his bing- his fucking-!" Michael was dying of laughter right now, he could barely finish his own joke. "He could- he- he could fuh-fucking use his bin-bingo wings as a fucking wing suit and go cliff jumping!" He had to say the second part as fast as possible, otherwise he'd never finish it.
This was quite common, once one target of ridicule leaves, another comes in it's place. There was never a dull moment when it came to shit like this. It didn't matter if there even was a dull moment, as the rest of it was so fucking funny it was worth it.
Darius pointed towards a particular hambeast who had as much trouble climbing up the ramp as he did riding down, just across the park.
"Jeezuz, is that the new character for Tony Hawk's hoveround racer?"
How did that fat fuck's board not break? Christ, no wonder everyone over there sucks at skating! They're stuck in this large lard-asses' fucking gravitational pull. Michael was inches away from exploding into laughter.
"Li-l-li-like, you can hear the fucking ramp creak every time he rolls down, holy shit!"
They were literally watching an adult Bobby Hill ride down a fucking ramp like he didn't weigh 300 pounds.
"Christ, more chins than a Chinese phone book, y'know, if he didn't weigh so fucking much, he could use his bing- his fucking-!" Michael was dying of laughter right now, he could barely finish his own joke. "He could- he- he could fuh-fucking use his bin-bingo wings as a fucking wing suit and go cliff jumping!" He had to say the second part as fast as possible, otherwise he'd never finish it.
This was quite common, once one target of ridicule leaves, another comes in it's place. There was never a dull moment when it came to shit like this. It didn't matter if there even was a dull moment, as the rest of it was so fucking funny it was worth it.
Michael was a good joke-teller and Darius amused himself by laughing his ass off with all the jokes about the Tony Fork guy.
"Like really, if he's so fat, he should do a different sport than skateboarding."
This was ridiculous to watch. Darius wondered if they saw them, but frankly, he did not give a damn.
"I mean, if you weigh more than fat Bart, you should be worried about your weight. Wait, did I say 'Fat Bart'? Hah, what a pleonasm."
After that, Darius continued to suck the smoke from the cigarette.
"Like really, if he's so fat, he should do a different sport than skateboarding."
This was ridiculous to watch. Darius wondered if they saw them, but frankly, he did not give a damn.
"I mean, if you weigh more than fat Bart, you should be worried about your weight. Wait, did I say 'Fat Bart'? Hah, what a pleonasm."
After that, Darius continued to suck the smoke from the cigarette.
"Fat fuck Bart?" Michael made some exaggerated pantomimed gagging. "That kid has a fuckin' problem man. Nobody, and I mean, no-fuckin'-body, should smell like the inside of a friggen' colostomy bag."
Michael took his sunglasses off, waving them in his hand as he spoke. "That motherfucker really needs a shower, y'know?" Michael paused his rant for a moment. The fat kid on the ramp took another fall.
"HEY FATSO!' Michael called out to the hapless skater, hooting like a hyena. "DO A FLIP!"
"Ha he hah- Fuck where was I, man?" Something about fat boy Bart. "Oh yeah, that motherfucker Bart, he needs to take a shower with soap and water, instead of fermented ham and raw sewage." Michael paused to see if Darius would laugh or not...
After spending a good hour or two heckling skaters, gossiping about other students, and generally making an ass out of each other, Michael figured it was time to call it quits.
"So anyway ehhh, you see Jon at all?" Michael waited for Darius to answer. "Been meanin' to talk with him about some shit and- ah damn, I think he's off of work right about now anyways." Michael got up out of his seat, carrying his jacket over his shoulder. "Talk to you later, Dee." Michael waved goodbye, like a good fucking civilized being should and strode off into the sunset; well there wasn't really a fucking sunset, it was still mid-day, but, y'know.
((Michael Crowe continued elsewhere))
Michael took his sunglasses off, waving them in his hand as he spoke. "That motherfucker really needs a shower, y'know?" Michael paused his rant for a moment. The fat kid on the ramp took another fall.
"HEY FATSO!' Michael called out to the hapless skater, hooting like a hyena. "DO A FLIP!"
"Ha he hah- Fuck where was I, man?" Something about fat boy Bart. "Oh yeah, that motherfucker Bart, he needs to take a shower with soap and water, instead of fermented ham and raw sewage." Michael paused to see if Darius would laugh or not...
After spending a good hour or two heckling skaters, gossiping about other students, and generally making an ass out of each other, Michael figured it was time to call it quits.
"So anyway ehhh, you see Jon at all?" Michael waited for Darius to answer. "Been meanin' to talk with him about some shit and- ah damn, I think he's off of work right about now anyways." Michael got up out of his seat, carrying his jacket over his shoulder. "Talk to you later, Dee." Michael waved goodbye, like a good fucking civilized being should and strode off into the sunset; well there wasn't really a fucking sunset, it was still mid-day, but, y'know.
((Michael Crowe continued elsewhere))
Bart really had a problem. Darius covered his nose with one hand.
"Don't remind me of the smell. My nose already bleeds thinking about Bart...and I don't mean that in an anime way. I mean it in a 'his smell hurts really fucking bad' way."
And meanwhile, Bart's brother (Darius was glad that he was not near enough that fat skater boy to smell him) was a complete loser at everything.
Do a flip. Jesus Christ, that one-liner. Darius had to laugh out loud hard. Do a flip. Do a barrel roll. Do a flip. That was impossible. That guy could never do a flip at this state, weight, whatever.
Darius had a good time having a civil conversation with Mike, laughing at the jokes several times and after like 3 or 4 cigs, Michael intended to leave.
"Yeah, Jon usually works. I met him last week or so." Or was it a week before? Who cares. Darius waved at Michael leaving, and stomped on his last cig before also heading home.
"See ya!"
((Darius Van Dyke, continued in Food's Better with Friends))
"Don't remind me of the smell. My nose already bleeds thinking about Bart...and I don't mean that in an anime way. I mean it in a 'his smell hurts really fucking bad' way."
And meanwhile, Bart's brother (Darius was glad that he was not near enough that fat skater boy to smell him) was a complete loser at everything.
Do a flip. Jesus Christ, that one-liner. Darius had to laugh out loud hard. Do a flip. Do a barrel roll. Do a flip. That was impossible. That guy could never do a flip at this state, weight, whatever.
Darius had a good time having a civil conversation with Mike, laughing at the jokes several times and after like 3 or 4 cigs, Michael intended to leave.
"Yeah, Jon usually works. I met him last week or so." Or was it a week before? Who cares. Darius waved at Michael leaving, and stomped on his last cig before also heading home.
"See ya!"
((Darius Van Dyke, continued in Food's Better with Friends))