here we go again
by SZ
[16:19]
Alexander: but that’s illegal
Alexander: you can’t tell me that’s not illegal
Yuri: CHIL L its fine
Yuri: leo’s fancy id whatever thgni is super legit he gets paid tod o this shit
Alexander: yeah but five people using the same keycard in a row is way
Alexander: WAY
Alexander: too suspicious
Yuri: shut your but hole
Alexander: gross
Yuri: ur MOMS 144
Alexander: …
[16:25]
Yuri: anyWAY mr. scaredy pants
Yuri: five
Yuri: astronony tower
Yuri: wear your best hiking outift
Yuri: ca♓?
Alexander: but i didn’t agree?
Yuri: SHUT YOUR BUT (SIC) AMD GO
Yuri: I’M LTERALLY ALREADY ON THE BUS AKGNM STUPID TYPIS
Alexander: so what
Yuri: FUCK these potholes
Yuri: “so what”you ask……..i might’ve takne your bio field notes hostage
Yuri: 🙂 🙂
Alexander: …you didn’t
[16:31]
Yuri: IMG_101103a5870_si8j22f.jpg
Alexander: shit
[16:34]
Alexander: don’t do anything stupid before i get there
–
Yuri did something stupid before Alexander got to the astronomy tower.
The good news was that when Yuri decided he was fed up with waiting for the others, only the first three pages of Alexander’s biology notes were folded into paper ducks and converted to river mush. Alexander quickly repossessed the remaining academic contraband before Yuri started destroying material he’d actually struggle to rewrite before next class.
The bad news was that Leo bailed on them without warning again, so even when Dima arrived with his filming equipment and Anton popped out of the shrubbery with a triumphant grip around an irate squirrel’s tail, the four of them had no way to access Leo’s place of employment.
“It was bad luck to use Head & Shoulders yesterday,” Dima concluded. “He’s like dandruff. Should’ve known he’d flake.”
Yuri cackled while Anton apologized. “Sorry,” he said, holding the squirrel slightly further away from his still-intact shirt. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on Leo. I saw him downtown this morning but didn’t stick around because my shift was starting.”
Yuri tried to poke the squirrel’s face, then snatched his hand away before it could bite his finger off. “Downtown? Chances he’s still there, lost in some pothole?”
“Who knows. Could be forty-sixty,” said Dima.
“Chances my bus ran over him on the way here?”
“Not enough information.”
“Alec, how many typos did that shitty bus make me send?”
Alexander recoiled. “I’m not going back and counting!”
Yuri shrugged. “At least twenty but less than a hundred potholes,” he said to Dima. “Crunch the numbers, nerd boy.”
“About as likely as you getting an A in stats this year.”
“Damn, I wanted to see what he wrote in his will.”
Dima hoisted his tripod over his shoulder and placed a foot on a conveniently located rock. The last rays of the setting sun cast all five feet and four inches of his figure in dramatic relief. “You can ask him when we find him,” he announced. “We’re changing today’s video subject.”
“Great, I love manhunts,” Anton said absently. “But what do we do with this thing now?”
The squirrel swung back and forth like a pendulum in his hand, frothing at the mouth.
Everyone looked at each other blankly.
–
“Why am I on squirrel duty?!” Alexander yelped.
The squirrel had been transferred to a minuscule dog crate that Dima owned despite being allergic to dogs, and was now rattling the bars ominously on Alexander’s lap. Anton was doing his best to keep the camera trained on it even as Dima’s unmitigated driving nearly knocked the backseat passengers’ skulls through the roof of the car.
Dima explained blandly. “I’m driving, Yuri’s a loose cannon, Anton had his turn, and Leo’s missing in action. As the youngest and tallest person present, you have a civic duty to draw the shortest straw. For genetic crimes.”
“Neither of those is my fault!”
“No, they’re not,” Dima agreed pleasantly. Then he ran a yellow light and swerved violently around a detour sign into the bike lane while whistling the bassline to Will Shakespeare’s newest single blasting from the radio. The road curved downward, revealing a swarm of construction workers filling in a comically oversized pothole big enough to swallow an unsuspecting car whole. Dima didn’t slow down in the least, content to let the party accelerate naturally towards its doom.
“Can’t you brake a little?!” Alexander hissed.
“Dude, come on. Can’t you live a little?” Yuri said from the passenger seat. “If Leo’s getting buried alive in there, he’d want you to continue his legacy.”
“I’D LIVE A LOT MORE IF YOU DIDN’T CRASH THIS CAR, THEREBY ENDING ALL OUR LIVES AND FUTURE CAREER PROSPECTS!”
“I won’t, I have a license,” said Dima.
“NOT FOR LONG IF YOU KEEP GOING LIKE THIS!”
Alexander continued yelling incoherently while Dima swerved a second time around the pothole scene, narrowly avoiding the ten-grand fine and year-long jail sentence associated with construction accidents—would it have even been considered an accident, at that point?—to the tune of Will Shakespeare belting “so come on, let’s strike a deal / if you even exist / sweet or sour, Jesus, take the wheel / and do your worst.”
As they left the road construction area behind, the closing guitar riff of “Sour Jesus” faded and the next song started, some downtempo indie track from an unknown band.
“Fuck, I hate the radio version,” Anton groaned.
Alexander’s head was spinning. The squirrel had passed out cold.
“It’s supposed to be ‘do your fucking worst’ at the end,” Anton continued. “I had to watch them re-record the clean line so many times, and it still sounds off.”
“No way?” said Yuri. “I thought it was too watered down for the guy…”
“Radio broadcast policy. I wouldn’t be surprised if the studio ended up never releasing the uncensored version, though.” Anton angled the camera towards the front seat. “Wait, Dima, are your subscribers going to riot if I dunk on Will Shakespeare’s record company?”
“Go ahead. You can fight them in the comments section if you’re not a coward.”
“Ha ha. Right, so—”
Holy fucking shit. Alexander was never going to get used to these guys.