Sunday, October 29, 2006

"And you're next, if you don't shut the fuck up," ...

"And you're next, if you don't shut the fuck up," Robert screamed at me, quite convincingly
Originally uploaded by lorenzodom

Framing My Friend Robert

These photos depict Robert and Rayner fooling around in the vestibule of Robert’s apartment where he and the ever-beautiful Lisa hosted a kick-ass party last night—with buckets and buckets of jello shots, courtesy of their magnanimous neighbors, Heidi and Chug.

Actually, I really don’t know if their names are Heidi and Chug, but one was dressed as a bar maid and the other was a beer keg. So, my makeshift names seem to befit my foggy memory here.

Anyway, Robert and Rayner began role-playing. Robert was supposed to be some tough-guy (faggety-ass) federal agent and Rayner was dressed as “Robert in the 80s” in full regalia with a mullet, leather jacket, “faggety-ass” pants and doc martins.

I kept telling the guys all-night long that all I had to do now was kill Rayner, “A good two shots to the chest.” For now that I had proof it would be a cinch to frame Robert. Especially, since you can see the fire in his eyes in these photos, the intensity with which he’d do it, if he had done it.

Moreover, I can say that I witnessed them smoking crack together before the incident. Robert is pointing at one of the fluorescent green drug vials in the first photo of this set—a little something that Rayner, with wide and wild-eyes, liked to call “Kryptonite,” because “Not even Superman can handle this shit mannn…”

And after they both cracked open the vial and lit up a half each, Robert pulled out his pistol and started getting crazy and shit, yelling and screaming, telling me, quite convincingly, “And if you don’t shut the fuck up, I’m going to kill you next.”

All this tomfoolery and theatrics worked out perfectly to my advantage, because today I’m supposed to help Rayner move out of the apartment.

Alas, after three beers, six jello shots, and a glass of muscadette last night, I’m not really in the mood…

So, Rayner’s dead now.

Robert did it.

I waited until Rayner packed up all the boxes, so that he would be worn down and tired, and would offer little resistance.

Now, I’ve just got to get rid of all his shit, excuse me—stuff, possessions, belongings. Apparently, he’s kept every shirt he’s ever owned since 1981.

Maybe, all the bums on the corner, who line the sidewalks everyday to sell everyone’s else’s crap, will give me a few bucks for them.

And now that Robert will be in the slammer for a while, I wonder if Lisa will let me move into her apartment, so that way I don’t have to pay rent...

I guess that means we’ll just have to get rid of all Robert’s crap too though.

Much like the aforementioned transient folk, he’s been collecting odds and ends of discarded furniture ever since he first moved into this apartment a decade ago. Let me tell you, that’s a lot of crappy furniture. Oh, I’m sorry, “antiques” as Robert likes to call them…

Yeah, so, Rayner’s dead now.

And Robert clearly did it.

Bye bye Rayner. Bye Robert.

It was good while it lasted. And now that you're dearly departed I suddenly realize that I truly cherished your friendships. We had some good times together. Didn’t we?


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