BECAUSE THE INTERNET REWRITE

Tires SCREECH outside. Dude 2 stands up. There's a small crash outside

Yelling

VOICE: FREEZE!

GUNSHOTS

The Boy and Dude 2 look at each other

Dude 1 kicks open the door. They both exchange bullets. A mist of red puff spurts from Dude 2’s chest as he drops; his 45 falls from his grip. Dude 1 is screaming. The Boy’s stomach is gushing, a burning bullet lodged into his abdomen. This is not how he pictured it. It fucking hurts and does not feel euphoric… at all. It’s pretty much the opposite of Batman

“……(breath)…(breath)………(breath)………”

There’s a long silence before he hears Dude 1 begin to crawl across the living room. The Boy makes a reach for the 45 lying next to him

GUNSHOT

The Boy begins to stand up clutching his stomach, red stains soaking in his white shirt. He slowly makes his way to the foyer, kinda wishing somebody had filmed that for Worldstar

The Boy steps over the body of Dude 1, trying not to get blood on his shoes. He makes it to the foyer and stands in front of the Buddha statue once more. He lights a stick of incense and locks eyes with his oldest friend

He reaches into his pocket and grabs his vaporizer, clicking the mouthpiece to turn it on. The light flashes red. The Boy inhales it deeply into his chest and coughs up blood and smoke. The Ploom is bloody and no longer glowing

He takes in the surroundings. The mansion is quiet and lonely. No one is saying anything, nobody is giving opinions, and nothing feels interesting. The boy thinks he never had a purpose. But it’s been a great time

*******[PLAY SONG “LIFE: THE BIGGEST TROLL” AT THIS POINT]”*******

THE END