Chapter Twelve

[take_theride]

[A video post. It appears the feed was left on some time as if someone set it up before leaving. Duke is passed out in his convertible, covered in various drug paraphernalia and polaroid pictures. In Duke's lap is his voice recorder. He wakes up quickly, looking around him as if he's expecting something dangerous to be behind him. He relaxes

Comments

[killerjoke]

I've never seen anyone else force feed someone so much peyote.

[take_theride]

...holy shit.

What the fuck did we do, man?

[killerjoke]

We had the best time ever. Ahahahaha, when we kept hanging that one pirate all over the ship because we didn't know where the yardarm was? Hilarious. And when I chased that one with the flamethrower? The look on his face was to die for. Or, you know, kill for.

[take_theride]

Ha, ha! [That was a totally forced laugh, sir.]

Yeah, great.

[killerjoke]

Cooooome on, admit it, you had a good time.

[take_theride]

I might have, but I'm a bit fuzzy on the details of what happened.

[killerjoke]

That's what the pictures and video are for.

[take_theride]

Well, I certainly look happy.

[killerjoke]

Time. Of your. LIFE!

[take_theride]

Thank you for sparing it, by the way.

[killerjoke]

That wouldn't have been any fun. Besides, everyone expected me to. And you're alright, Duke. You ever wanna hang out again, you just let me know.

[take_theride]

You're really just one of those lonely fucks, aren't you?

[killerjoke]

Me? Nahhh, I'm in love with the world, Duke.

[take_theride]

At least you're positive.