Post by johnnydorn on Nov 28, 2020 4:45:06 GMT
Sick trap beats blast through the Black Friday air as Johnny Dorn parks his Cubby blue Hummer at the Mega Mallplex. He and his buddies Jason and Will (with the good hair) pile out and head for the entrance to Perfect Purchase, and the people waiting in line outside.
“Yo, Johnny,” Jason says, gesturing at the scene with his thumb, “maybe we should’ve gotten here last night.”
“Nah, bro.” Johnny waves, dismissively. “I preordered this shit. I’m not like one’a these mouthbreathers waiting for same day inventory. We’re gonna walk in, get the console, and then play Black Ops Cold War until I gotta kick some goblin-lookin’ motherfucker in the teeth.”
Oh yeah, Johnny’s a gamer. And the console in question is the highly coveted PlayStation 5.
“Man, I dunno…” Will runs his fingers through his hair as three chicks simultaneously get pregnant. “I heard that game gives you AIDS.”
“Who’d you hear that from?” Johnny asks.
“A health and fitness expert on Twitter.”
Johnny laughs and rolls his eyes. “Yeah right, a “health and fitness expert.” Next thing you two’ll tell me, that stutterin’ cornball Bembe Brightwell’s a friggin MRSA member.”
“Uhh...” Will decides to be the brave one, “that doesn’t sound right bro.”
“Yeah, Johnny,” Jason continues, “I think you mean ‘Mensa.’”
“Pretty sure MRSA’s an infection, buddy,” Will finishes.
“Oh, did the health and fitness expert tell you that too?” Johnny scoffs, not liking the fact that he could be wrong, and that his burn fell flat. “Look, can we go get this and get the fuck outta here?”
The trio walk up to the door and are immediately stopped by an employee controlling the line.
“Excuse me, where are you going?”
“Goin’ to get my PS5, bro.”
“You’ll have to wait in line, sir.”
Johnny looks at the worker like he’s wearing Averie Stardust’s cow costume from the SPOOKY SZN show. “No, see, I preordered it. I don’t need to wait.”
The kid points to the line with his pen. “They preordered it too. Now please, get in line.”
Some time later
Johnny can, by this point, at least see the store’s front door, but his irritation at not yet having his PS5 and shooting some Eastern European dickheads is starting to show. He might not get it before the Cheap Pops show starts, and he sure as hell doesn’t want to deal with getting it after the Conor Mayfair fight, where there’s a good chance of Conor turning him into a pretzel.
“You alright Johnny?”
The Waveland Avenue Warrior looks at Jason with a scowl. “I’m fine, bro. Just pissed. I wanted to blow off some steam before this Mayfair fight. The longer we stand here, the less chance of that happening.”
“I get it, man, that dude’s a killer.” Will leans against the building. “I wouldn’t want to face him.”
“His girl’s a smokeshow though,” Jason points out. “You’re doin’ alright though, Johnny. 2-0. Not bad for someone with barely any training.”
“Yeah but Jason, bro, listen…” Will chimes in. “Johnny can’t keep learning as he goes. ‘Not bad’ ain’t gonna cut it against dudes like Santana and Jersey Jim, or the ones who’ll break your face to get to the top like Mayfair.” He puts his hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “You know I love you, bro, but picking some formal training back up might be a good idea.”
Johnny stands there and considers Will’s words. His friends can’t think he’s shitty, right? They’re the macabroni to his cheese, the brotato chips to his dip. The line moves forward, and them with it, and the more Johnny thinks about it, the more Will might be right.
There’s gonna be a ton of people at the mall today, and Johnny wants them all to be focused on him, not on shitty Vera Bradley bags, or Yankee Candles, or Conor fuckin’ Mayfair. To keep the 2-0 show rolling on to 3-0 and beyond, he’s gonna need to succeed in Cheap Pops on more than just the basics, cleverness, and a wing and a prayer.
“I hear you bro,” Johnny says, reaching for his phone, chirping in his pocket. “That’s probably not a bad….oh shit.”
“What’s up?”
“It’s Tony, show’s starting in 30, fuck!”
Johnny looks at his friends like a deer caught in the headlights, immediately shoves his phone and wallet into their hands, and takes off. “Get the goods and keep them safe. I gotta go to 3-0!”
“Yo, Johnny,” Jason says, gesturing at the scene with his thumb, “maybe we should’ve gotten here last night.”
“Nah, bro.” Johnny waves, dismissively. “I preordered this shit. I’m not like one’a these mouthbreathers waiting for same day inventory. We’re gonna walk in, get the console, and then play Black Ops Cold War until I gotta kick some goblin-lookin’ motherfucker in the teeth.”
Oh yeah, Johnny’s a gamer. And the console in question is the highly coveted PlayStation 5.
“Man, I dunno…” Will runs his fingers through his hair as three chicks simultaneously get pregnant. “I heard that game gives you AIDS.”
“Who’d you hear that from?” Johnny asks.
“A health and fitness expert on Twitter.”
Johnny laughs and rolls his eyes. “Yeah right, a “health and fitness expert.” Next thing you two’ll tell me, that stutterin’ cornball Bembe Brightwell’s a friggin MRSA member.”
“Uhh...” Will decides to be the brave one, “that doesn’t sound right bro.”
“Yeah, Johnny,” Jason continues, “I think you mean ‘Mensa.’”
“Pretty sure MRSA’s an infection, buddy,” Will finishes.
“Oh, did the health and fitness expert tell you that too?” Johnny scoffs, not liking the fact that he could be wrong, and that his burn fell flat. “Look, can we go get this and get the fuck outta here?”
The trio walk up to the door and are immediately stopped by an employee controlling the line.
“Excuse me, where are you going?”
“Goin’ to get my PS5, bro.”
“You’ll have to wait in line, sir.”
Johnny looks at the worker like he’s wearing Averie Stardust’s cow costume from the SPOOKY SZN show. “No, see, I preordered it. I don’t need to wait.”
The kid points to the line with his pen. “They preordered it too. Now please, get in line.”
Some time later
Johnny can, by this point, at least see the store’s front door, but his irritation at not yet having his PS5 and shooting some Eastern European dickheads is starting to show. He might not get it before the Cheap Pops show starts, and he sure as hell doesn’t want to deal with getting it after the Conor Mayfair fight, where there’s a good chance of Conor turning him into a pretzel.
“You alright Johnny?”
The Waveland Avenue Warrior looks at Jason with a scowl. “I’m fine, bro. Just pissed. I wanted to blow off some steam before this Mayfair fight. The longer we stand here, the less chance of that happening.”
“I get it, man, that dude’s a killer.” Will leans against the building. “I wouldn’t want to face him.”
“His girl’s a smokeshow though,” Jason points out. “You’re doin’ alright though, Johnny. 2-0. Not bad for someone with barely any training.”
“Yeah but Jason, bro, listen…” Will chimes in. “Johnny can’t keep learning as he goes. ‘Not bad’ ain’t gonna cut it against dudes like Santana and Jersey Jim, or the ones who’ll break your face to get to the top like Mayfair.” He puts his hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “You know I love you, bro, but picking some formal training back up might be a good idea.”
Johnny stands there and considers Will’s words. His friends can’t think he’s shitty, right? They’re the macabroni to his cheese, the brotato chips to his dip. The line moves forward, and them with it, and the more Johnny thinks about it, the more Will might be right.
There’s gonna be a ton of people at the mall today, and Johnny wants them all to be focused on him, not on shitty Vera Bradley bags, or Yankee Candles, or Conor fuckin’ Mayfair. To keep the 2-0 show rolling on to 3-0 and beyond, he’s gonna need to succeed in Cheap Pops on more than just the basics, cleverness, and a wing and a prayer.
“I hear you bro,” Johnny says, reaching for his phone, chirping in his pocket. “That’s probably not a bad….oh shit.”
“What’s up?”
“It’s Tony, show’s starting in 30, fuck!”
Johnny looks at his friends like a deer caught in the headlights, immediately shoves his phone and wallet into their hands, and takes off. “Get the goods and keep them safe. I gotta go to 3-0!”