my name.  is nick.
my last name, which i loath, is twisp.
the next thing you should know about me is that i am obsessed with sex.
lately, i have become morbidly aware of my penis.
once a remote region accessed indifferently for micturition, it has developed overnight into a gaudy las vegas of the body.
i am entering the tenth grade at st. vitus academy, which, i am told, is the most rigorous prep school in the east bay. hopefully i will be invited to join miss satron's english literature class.
i am a voracious reader and listen to frank sinatra. so needless to say, i am still a virgin.
i have yet to hold hands with a girl, let alone have my winkie up her wendell.
i am an only child except for my big sister joanie, who has left the bosom of her family to sling hash at 35,000 feet.
mom gives driver's tests at the department of motor vehicles. nick sits at the kitchen table reading the paper. he watches with nausea as estelle piles liver onto his plate.
she used to keep dad up to date on all the motor statutes he was violating. this is one of the reasons they got divorced. jerry, early 40's, saunters in wearing a truckers do it in overdrive shirt and boxers. his gut hangs over the elastic, but he is completely devoid of an ass.
mom's boyfriend, jerry is a long distance trucker, though his ultimate ambition is to be on state disability. jerry absently smacks estelle's butt. waddles over to the breakfast table. he snatches the funnies from the paper in nick's hands.
i've been struggling to think of a commendable thing to say about jerry. jerry gives an asinine chuckle at the cartoon. nick glares.
no luck. his grey matter registers at cretin and the needle doesn't budge.
dad is a copywriter for agricultural magazines. in the drive, nick slaves over the duty of washing the rims of his dad's bmw 325i.
he'd like to own a more prestigious model of bmw, but, as he often reminds me, he is burdened with crippling child support payments.
lacey is dad's latest bimbette. she is twenty and a recently minted alumna of stanfort. super: george and lacey exchange saliva shamelessly. nick turns his attention back to the beamer. as the making out becomes heated groping, george's grip on the hose slackens. nick gets blindsided by the jet of water.
my mother is the one who painted my room to look like dolly parton's boudoir. she read this color was used in hospitals to calm mental patients. nick closes his eyes, his right arm moving rhythmically.
i'll tell you what i told her. i am not mentally ill. blackness. the masturbation reaches its feverous climax. then the long moan and sigh of relief.
i'm just a teenager. and as frank sinatra's until the real thing comes along begins, we go to opening credits.
except his was black and yours is white. and dirty.
damn it. i guess i'll just have to hang out all alone at the book depository.
after spending twelve years with dad, mom has had a string of lovers, none of whom she has asked me to approve. jerry fails to notice estelle waiting and instead just climbs in and chugs his beer. estelle appears mildly disappointed before opening the door herself.
i'm starting to think her boyfriends are like u.s. presidents. as jerry pulls out, he tosses his beer bottle in the direction of the trash can at the end of the drive.
just when you think they can't get any worse.  he misses and the bottle shatters on the pavement, but jerry drives off anyway.
she manages to find god's perfect asshole.
he just left. what's up?
well, i think he used that nine hundred dollars to buy his lincoln. he's giving my mom a joyride in it now. but he'll be back this afternoon, so i would come back then. he's pretty stubborn. you might have to beat it out of him.
i like it. very to the point. well.  see you guys this afternoon! the sailors nod, somewhat perplexed by this kid's demeanor. as they turn to go and nick closes the door.
i hope you have a good reason. reveal nick and his friend lefty, 16, belly down in the grass overlooking the clearing. lefty watches the copulating couple with a pair of binoculars.
i dunno, lefty. i think your sister is just waging psychological warfare.
maybe your just not wacking off enough. as if in response, lefty passes the binoculars off to nick and then turns over onto his back and unzips his pants. as lefty jerks it, nick looks with nonchalance.
in case you haven't heard, lefty's erect member takes a dramatic turn midway up the shaft.
why don't you just have your parents take you to the dick doctor?
still, you might want to get it fixed before asking millie out.
lefty's grasp of the female anatomy is somewhat tenuous; he imagines there are orifices galore down there.
oh, yeah. those sailors came by. they want their money back. i guess there was a banana in the transmission.
now why would i do that? jerry seeths inwardly at nick's mock innocence.
oh, look. the sailors are here. jerry first starts to dart one way and then another, searching for a hiding space as he hisses.
jerry, where are you going? just tell them you are in the right.
eight hundred and thirty seven, actually.
we are going to ukiah for a last minute vacation. jerry's got on a hat made from coors beer cans. he's behind the wheel of his lincoln convertible.
jerry says we'll be staying in a cabin on clear lake that's owned by a friend of his. estelle dumps in the cooking gear and closes the trunk. her halter top looks like an advertisement for droop city. nick's in the back. estelle waves at the neighbors like she's miss corn dog of 1954.
i'm not sure how this is the solution to his problem. but i've decided to go along with it, seeing as i'm not rooting for him anyway. as they pull out, jerry tosses his beer bottle at the garbage can at the end of the drive and it once again misses and shatters on the street behind them.
mom? do you really like jerry? her smile fades.
mom is a realist about everything. except her age. she's forty-three.
the moment i see her i know the gods, while having cruelly endowed me with imperfect posture and pussy postponing pimples, had put me here for a purpose. my heart palpitates. my mind races. i get an instant
hello.
thanks a pantsful.
you don't have to go to services?
paul is an atheist too?
likewise.
jerry and i share no blood links of any kind. as they pass the meeting hall there comes a surge of hymns in chorus.
sounds rather zealous.
you could say the same thing about sex. sheeni stops. she looks at nick intently.
i hardly ever think about sex.
wow. a second floor.
sheeni? do you want to come to the beach with me? she turns around. gives a little smirk.
er, yes, mr. saunders.
not at all.
is it?
i'm up for it. she rolls over onto her back, her young breasts straining up against the yellow spandex.
i'm coping. he starts in on her flawless legs, gliding on the oil all the way within a finger's reach of her sweet apex. with each daring pass, he comes closer to that final split. finally the hand swerves too late, and lightly grazes the softly yielding vee.
what's his name?
what's he like?
i'm not familiar with futurist percussive poems.
please do. she takes a dramatic pause.
if that's poetry, i'm a turkey scrotum.
here is an hour by hour account of the worst night of my life. nick flipping through a penthouse under the covers.
1 am. i decide it is just a case of puppy love and look forward to the interesting women i shall meet in the future.
2 am. i conclude the only way out is suicide. i begin to pen a poignant suicide note. sheeni will see trent for the shallow pedant he is and always treasure my memory.
3 am. i decide i am too chicken for any of the manly, violent means of suicide. i shall swallow sleeping pills. where to get them, though?
4 am. i can not die an inviolate virgin. either i find a way to get laid soon or suicide gets postponed until after high school.
5 am. it will be too painful to see sheeni again. i shall ask mom if we can cut our vacation short and return to oakland.
6 am. violent panic! i have to see sheeni again!
good morning!
seven o'clock. how about breakfast?
like john muir i enter the wilderness with nothing more than my journal and a childlike sense of wonder.
quite a drop.
huh. quite a hike just to end your life.
that's my journal!
those are my private thoughts and are none of your business!
what?
how would you like it if i read your journal?
it's in french.
what does it say?
spill it! i demand full disclosure!
when can i see you again?
she's the encyclopedia britannica.
should i go to the sheriff's now?
say, where were you anyway? we said five minutes to six.
swell. and the punctual guy fries in the chair for rape.
my parents want to go to middletown. jerry has the moronic notion of buying a trailer there before we leave.
great.
all i have is a subway card with four stickers.
no doubt close to the dog's actual value.
sheeni, i think i love you.
sheeni? it's.  it's okay. we can visit each other when i get a drivers license.
what?
oh. nick tries to hide his hurt. picks up the paper with annoyance.
no way.
maybe i could take him, but i'd have certain conditions. i would have to be the only dad on the scene. trent would have to go.
it's your choice. life with me and the dog you love. or a pet-free existence with a shallow, egotistical poet.
i accept full responsibility.
not quite, darling. i want one more thing.
what do you think? a beat. sheeni looks pensive. it fades to amusement.
how about i have a quick vasectomy just to be on the safe side?
i have a tall mountain to climb, with many treacherous glaciers still to cross, but finally, i have obtained a stamped entry visa to the paradise that lay beyond. sheeni watches the lincoln and trailer recede toward the horizon.
in short.  i have a very real prospect for getting laid.
i guess they didn't cave after all. jerry pops the hood and lets out a whistle.
stellar.
jerry tried to outsmart a few sailors. it's been an amusing saga. jerry contemplates smacking nick upside the head, but decides against it when he discerns estelle is probably in her son's corner.
i was going to ask you the same thing.
did you meet him in posture class?
hardly. sheeni believes the internet will be the end of literacy.
more like the occassional collect call.
no, thanks. auto mechanics doesn't interest me.
how unlike him.
which means.
hello?
absolutely. nick looks around, opens the door to the linen closet and darts inside.
sheeni? how are you?
and how is trent? not too suicidal i hope.
nor i him. i wish him all the best.
well, though he's taken a disliking to jerry.
i regret, love of my life, my father has lost his job and i will now be forced to go to public school.
he's a writer - sort of. he writes advertising copy.
how so?
brilliant. not that i'm fond of ukiah, but i'd live in a drainage culvert to be with you.
i had no idea you had knowledge of the employment opportunities of trade magazines.
anyone i know?
so why would trent want to help my father move to ukiah?
very well, but i don't see how i am to live with him. my mother values my indentured servitude.
what do you want me to do?
i will, darling. i will! and in pre-lap comes the ding dong of the doorbell.
i have decided to create a supplementary persona named franois.
like a parisian james dean, he will be bold, reckless, contemptuous of authority, and irresistible to women. push in on his reflection, as a moustache appears. then a beret and black and white striped shirt. then a cigarette holder and thompson machine-gun. and franois is born.
hello, franois. i think you'll do nicely.
the itchy trigger finger.  franois cocks the machine-gun.
damn! those hippos are taking a shower together. how repulsive! he slams the door.
where's joanie?
no doubt. i don't think anyone got a wink last night with all that racket. lance looks at him, seething inwardly. he glances to estelle.
i thought there were laws in this city against illicit cohabitation. or are they just another big policeman's joke?
what are you going to do? shoot me with your gun? lance lunges across the table.
out! the screen door slams behind him.
and just what makes you so sure it was me?
that's lacey.
dad's girlfriend. estelle stares at the photo, face contorted by revulsion and envy.
well, she likes fast cars and takes a lot of naps with dad. super:
she likes to sit on dad's lap while he eats and blow in his ear. super:
and she calls him "thunder rod" and he calls her "sugar puss." super: at this point estelle has turned bright red.
i wish i was leaving with you tonight.
i wish. did you really take a posture class?
hey, lefty.
i vandalized jerry's trailer and she found my picture of lacey.
you lie.
yeah, but i'm not sure i should try this on sheeni. i think this book is for people who've been married so long they're disgusted by the sight of each other. they regard the illustrated figures of men and women in various states of foreplay.
i think these illustrations are disproportionate for emphasis.
perhaps we should. just for the sake of research. nick and lefty get to their feet and stand opposite each other like a pair of duelists. they simultaneously undo their belts and pull their pants and underwear to their feet. they straighten. lefty's eyes fall to nick's crotch. he gets a hint of concern in his expression. nick stares at lefty's, tilting his head to compensate for the curvature. the door behind them opens and estelle appears toting nick's lunch. she lets out a scream. the boys turn to face her, pants around their ankles.
thanks a pantsful, but i'm not gay. if you're really concerned though, i suggest you get me a room at the ukiah motel 6. if anyone can straighten me out, it's sheeni. she looks at him dubiously and hands out the phone.
hello?
what's this i hear about you being unemployed?
i hope you do. we need the money.
i know, dad. like getting a good education. and being able to respect your parents.
thanks, dad. he hangs up the phone.
hello, uh.  my name is nick. nick twisp. my father's name is george twisp.
not lately. but he's missed several child support payments, and is not looking for work. so now i'm going to public school in oakland.
yes. and he's had an offer from a respectable publication in ukiah.
hey, lefty. how's it hangin'?
what?!? why?
you can use my house if you want.
sure. my mom and lance are going to a movie and i'm planning on stealing jerry's trailer and torching it in a parking lot, so you'll have the whole house to yourself.
so where you headed anyway?
he asking lots of weird questions?
what did you tell him?
what did you tell him that for?
sounds like a professional. he must be very expensive.
my mom is paying for your therapy?
yes, but it was your idea.
don't be retarded. we were doing research for our girlfriends.
yeah, just don't blow your load on my sheets.
don't mention it. see ya, lefty.
mom? do you think it might be a good idea if i moved in with him?
but shouldn't you depend on the child support money for, you know.  child support?
the plan is simple. nick places two full cannisters of gasoline into the trunk of the lincoln. nick's behind the wheel, backing up the car.
tow jerry's trailer to a remote parking lot in berkeley and burn it to the ground. the hitch ball grinds under the trailer socket.
thus evicting myself from my mother's clutches and into the arms of my one and only love. nick fires up the v-8 engine and shifts into drive, pulling forward. he cuts across the lawn.
franois wanted to torch the trailer where it sits, but i've convinced him a parking lot will reduce the risk of collateral damage. the trailer clips the corner of the house. chunks of stucco fall and the galvanized downspout shudders and writhes, collapsing the long rain gutter running across the front of the home. nick guns it, and with a lurch the trailer splinters free. he dodges the birch tree, but plows over the smaller asian pear. the lincoln bounces the curb and catapults into the street, the trailer weaving back and forth, smashing parked cars.
oh no! i forgot to set the brake! the driver of the fiat bolts after the accelerating lincoln, but as he realizes the futility, slows to a jog. the driver turns to see he forgot to set his own brake, and desperately rolls out of the way of the fiat. motorists slam on their brakes as the speeding trailer crosses four lanes of traffic. it jumps the curb crashing into the plate glass window of a gourmet sausage shop. a cop car lights up and speeds into the intersection, just in time to get clipped by the lincoln. the cop car goes into a tail spin, smashing into a chicken transport. the flock of feathered inmates fly for freedom.
hey, mom! how was the movie?
that could be anyone.
but i like it here.
i don't scream much. i am making a painful sacrifice for the woman of my dreams. my suffering possesses a beauty which elevates it above this sordid scene. with the final blow the tree limb cracks in half. nick looks over his shoulder.
are you through? lance looks around the room. picks up an umbrella and considers it in his hand. nick hangs his head.
i was wondering what happened to you. did you get to blow your wad?
did you get interrupted?
what's worse than being interrupted?
what?!?
sorry, man. i didn't have a great night either.
or you could just fake it and then hide out in ukiah with me. then later come back and maybe millie filbert will boink you out of pity.
hi, lacey. hi, dad. the trunk pops open.
is there any way i could sit up front with lacey, dad? mom's boyfriend beat me pretty badly.
what a competitive asshole.
uhm, hello. is sheeni available?
excuse me?
that rat-fink-fuck!
santa cruz! but she'll be miserable without me. we're in love. the ogre snorts in condescending amusement.
that's okay. i had to burn down half of berkley.
i felt a grand gesture was required, darling. sheeni's expression indicates that she is touched, but it turns to troubled.
franois will kill him later.
nevermind. the point is we must elope. sheeni takes a step back at the notion.
it's a small price to pay. she takes another step back.
what?!? but, sheeni. i just don't get it. i'm here. albert's here too.
or we could consummate here in the woods.
well.  goodbye, sheeni. i love you.
i have endured a five million dollar beating for nothing.
i do not have a friend within a hundred miles. this is a daunting thought if you think about it. we track down the row of other students, starting with a three hundred pound behemoth. the row seems to descend in weight class, until we reach nick at the very end.
nick. nick twisp.
i could not begin to speculate. nick turns off his shower and slinks away.
hello, paul. how did you know my name?
no we haven't.
oh. paul begins rolling a joint.
did sheeni tell you that was me?
why? was i an arsonist in a previous life?
my god. what did she burn?
my god, franois! what was paul smoking?
uh.  hi, dwayne. what are you doing here?
uh.  dad? what's going on?
what about dwayne?
dad!
no thank you, dwayne. a knock at the door. lacey enters.
i don't know, it's in french. say, why does your mother give you sleeping pills?
i don't know. dogs don't grow on trees.
okay. but it will cost you one sleeping pill per walk.
you never know when sedatives will come in handy.
lefty?
lefty, what are you doing here?
i mean, what are you doing in town?
wow, lefty, i'm kinda impressed. faking your suicide is pretty ballsy. lefty joins nick in his walk down the road.
redwood high school.
why would you want to go to school if you didn't have to?
i can see this stunt really has liberated your mind.
do you have a girlfriend?
yes, but she transferred.
i don't know. she sent me this letter. but it's in french.
you speak french?
that's it? nothing else about me? vijay picks up the letter again.
albert is our dog. this is a disaster. what the hell does she mean trent wants to mend the relationship?
i've got to get to sheeni as soon as possible. if i don't trent preston is going to mindfuck her into thinking she doesn't like me.
will you shut up and help me out?
i suggest we steal my father's bmw and take a trip to santa cruz. vijay, you'll have to be our translator.
good thinking.
to hell with it, vijay. it's time to take action! three cuts. the jingle as nick removes his dad's keys from the bureau. the trunk slamming closed with the sleeping bags inside. the roar of the engine as vijay's hand turns the key in the ignition.
it's dave brubeck. i thought a person as cultured as yourself would appreciate it.
hello, sheeni. hi, i'm nick.
and this is vijay. and this is lefty. lefty goes to usc.
there's your competition.
we drape a blanket over the lower bunk for sheeni and me. you tackle taggarty on the top bunk. here's a condom. i slipped two to lefty, leaving us with four.
they'll go for it. you can cut the sexual tension in that room with a knife.
no. we can find our zippers in the dark.
sheeni?
was that the matron?
then who was it?
did you say it was trent?
so where is trent now?
chance for what?
i suppose we should at least get a look at him. to see what we're dealing with.
trent?
i am nick twisp.
is trent here?
did he say where he was going?
but that's where lefty is. who are you?
oh, so you're ed.
nothing. it's just that sheeni mentioned trent has a thing for a guy named ed, and that he touches the guy when he falls asleep. but obviously if that were you, you'd know about it. must be a different ed solomon. take care now. nick takes off running and ed stares after him.
is trent in there?
what happened to lefty?
but i gave lefty two already.
so what is trent, the fucking condom faerie!?!
so where did he say he was going?
thanks. oh, and i'd be careful with those condoms. trent's roommate ed said that trent pokes holes in them so that he can get sheeni pregnant and be with her forever. and with that piece of disturbing info, he leaves them.
i'm sheeni's friend, nick. sorry to disturb you.
uh, yeah.
nice to meet you bernice. actually, i think trent preston mentioned you. he said you were frumpy, but now that i've met you, i can see trent is a lying bastard.
you don't like sheeni?
you didn't happen to see trent preston did you? she waves him away as she bends over the sink to hurl again. then lifts her face and smiles through the dripping bile.
sheeni?
was trent here?
great. just great. how about you, vijay?
that brand was top-rated by consumers.
you think the girls are in trouble?
that's it! expel them. then sheeni will have to come back to ukiah. the car sputters. nick's eyes go to the gas gauge.
well, we can't stay in the car. sooner or later highway patrol is going to come by and ask for our non-existent driver's license.
mom? it's nick. i'm sorry to wake you, but i'm hoping you'll help your only son. especially seeing as it would really piss off dad. a long beat.
yeah. i'm nick.
what happened to lance? estelle's face registers "none of your business," but a kind look from wally and she softens.
okay. mr. rumpkin, what famous actress was married to frank sinatra, artie shaw, and mickey rooney?
you too, mr. rumpkin. wally blushes even more. he closes the door and starts to turn the truck around. nick watches him go. wally waves goodbye. nick turns and the three boys make their way down the dusty road.
where's dad?
yes, i do.
guys don't share their girlfriends.
you forgot lousy driver! george appears in the doorway.
my mother wasn't any better.
what grade did you receive?
are you kidding? she had her flashlight trained on your hindi boner! a beat. lefty and vijay seem taken aback by the outburst.
if i'm to get sheeni expelled and sent back to me i will need a partner in crime.
luckily, franois has a girl on the inside. nick begins typing and speaking out loud.
dear bernice, it was nice meeting you this weekend in the bathroom.
i just want you to know i now see why you loath sheeni saunders so strongly.
i too have come to despise the snooty, pretentious brunette and in all honesty you should probably get her expelled. i am happy to help in that regard.
i have included a number of sleeping pills with this note. bernice dumps the pills from the envelope.
you must introduce one of these into her breakfast beverage each day. bernice sits next to sheeni, despite the fact she's being ignored. bernice drops a pill into sheeni's coffee nonchalantly.
she may be intelligent, but she is not likely to pass her courses when she's falling asleep in class. sheeni's head slips off her hand as she drifts off. we move across the classroom to where bernice scribbles in her notebook.
since meeting you, i have come to realize my interest in sheeni was only a transient adolescent infatuation. i like you more than i can say. take courage. together we will outsmart these cake eaters. a view of the notebook shows her to be scribbling nick's name with hearts. she flips through pages of obsession.
affectionately yours, nick.
p.s. please destroy this note immediately.
where's dad?
hello?
i am nick twisp. i am alive. i am a breathing organism.
don't be afraid, dad. everything will be okay. you deserve to be loved.
lacey is here. paul is caressing her toes.
paul is our friend. he makes beautiful music for the acrobats. they're naked.
don't be afraid, dad. goodbye. he hangs up the phone and pulls out the cord. he joins paul in working lacey's feet.
dad is afraid.
i'm sixteen, dad.
dwayne! please cover yourself.
of course not. i'm tired. let's go to sleep. nick unplugs the nintendo and climbs into bed. dwayne just sits there on the floor, naked as a clam.
a strange night. i dreamed of wrestling for what seemed like hours with an amorous walrus.  nick squirms with an amorphous blob, they wrestle against the red abstract background.
there is only one explanation: i have been dwayned. a pillow whacks across a blubbery face.
wake up! i know what you were doing last night, you disgusting beast!
we weren't doing anything, mrs. crampton. it was just hot last night.
taggarty? it's nick.
if you please. taggarty crosses to the bunks, where sheeni is curled up among the sheets as if in some renaissance portrait.
hello, my beloved. how are you?
perhaps you are home sick. you do sound rather blue.
me? what did i do?
doesn't deserve it!?! i'd have to claim he has genital warts to sink to his level.
sheeni, i just don't get it. this guy has cock-blocked at every turn and you're taking his side?!?
lacey's not a floozie.
of course. she's my father's ex- girlfriend. i think that might make you my stepmother-in-law.
sorry. at any rate, i'll let you go. we'll have plenty of time to settle this tomorrow.
yes, sheeni, thanksgiving. i'll be coming for dinner, of course.
i'm confident they will learn to love me. after all, i'm practically family.
don't move, blubber boy, i'll get it.
uh, i'm pretty sure he's sleeping off a hangover, officer. is he under arrest?
ah.
excuse me?
no, and i'm not sure i like the implication. ravi shankar is beloved by many caucasian.
mrs. crampton complained to dad that i tried to corrupt the fat pervert cohabitating with me.
he has deemed it strike three, but is only banishing me as far as mrs. crampton's condemned trailer.
no matter. tomorrow i will be reunited with my everlasting love. and i will not be stopped. not by an outbreak of the plague, nor by a cruel return of the ice-age. not even by the gods themselves.
twisp residence.
oh. hey, mom. what's up?
okay. i'm ready. what is it?
what's the bad news?
lefty, have you seen vijay, today?
arrested?!?
that's terrible. did he go quietly?
the day has proven to be a disaster. where did i gone wrong? i have a decision to make.
i could hit the road and spend my life a fugitive with my integrity nearly intact.
it's that or risk incarceration to keep my dinner date.
happy thanksgiving, lacey. she spots the sad flowers in his hand.
uh, mrs. saunders. lacey leads him by the hand into the chintz-bedecked parlor. sheeni's larger-than-life father and 5,000 year old mother sit cross-legged on the floor, running their hands over the hooked rug.
okay, i guess. where's sheeni?
dinner is almost ready, my love.
i think they are deriving some good from the experience. sheeni finally looks up from her book.
to hell with that. what do i have to do to prove my love to you? my friends have gotten laid and i'm pretty sure neither one of them was beaten with a tree trunk, raped by a walrus, or had to contend with the likes of trent preston!
sheeni, i have shown restraint, i have committed crimes, i have traveled to the lengths of the state and still you won't give me this one little thing.
excellent. he should be coming out of the oven right about now. she tosses the book at him, but he dodges it successfully.
i hate you too. they share a long, intense kiss. they break away and she smiles in spite of herself.
i hope it's the first of many such occasions for me. sheeni narrows her eyes at him. a long beat as they all dine in silence. then- mrs. saunders croaks out in song.
hello, trent.
did you obtain proper authorization from the officials?
well, you see.
well, i shall be going now. please continue without me.
thank you for that unsolicited counsel, trent. and please, do drop dead. the other guests murmur their shock. nick stops in the doorway.
goodbye, sheeni. i did it all for you.
here i am, reviled by friends and family. relentlessly pursued by three police jurisdictions. nick stops at the edge of the woods to catch his breath.
fronois suggests we flee the country. but where to go? mexico? canada? india, perhaps? he looks up the road which has been blocked off by flashing squad cars.
uh, hi, joanie. how's it going?
since my sister can see through me, i'm obliged to give a relatively candid and thorough review of the events. joanie listens gravely, shaking her head at the most gruesome parts of the story. nick finishes, flopping into a chair.
i'm not really sure. i fell in love with sheeni. all i want is to be with her. the rest is all a big misunderstanding.
but.  but where did i go wrong?
so far, i agree.
all the way, joanie. i'm willing to go all the way. joanie nods in amusement.
thanks, joanie. i.  uh.  i love you.
one ticket to ukiah, please.
hey, bacon boy, it's nick.
you're on a need to know basis, gorilla boy. lance seethes inwardly.
let me make it easy. i'll be at redwood high school tomorrow morning. round up your donut dipping friends. i'm turning myself in. nick slams down the phone before lance can respond.
lefty? lefty lifts his eyes and sees his friend.
they have me soon enough. where are you going?
that's great, lefty.
paul and lacey are kind enough to share some leftover fungi to help calm my nerves. that, combined with yet another viewing of james dean's performance is what gives me my final burst of inspiration. they all watch transfixed as james dean leaps from his automobile just in time to escape demise.
franois of course wants no part of this, and demands that we make a run for the border. but i have decided to veto him. it's time to face the music.
my only comfort regarding my untimely death is knowing my friends and family will do just fine without me. we move from lacey and paul, the latter of which is wailing away on the trumpet, to lefty, his head hung low. heather pulls his head to her breasts.
as it would turn out heather's vaginal canal is slightly misshapen.
and thus completely compatible with lefty's otherwise incongruent penis.
vijay would eventually manage to pin the car theft on me. but had lost the attention of taggarty forever. who by the way.
never would find her perfect a. taggarty at her wall. ed solomon lounges in the bed behind her.
and would therefore start grading on a curve. with a quick stroke of her pen, she changes ed's grade from a b minus to a b plus.
joanie of course would get to continue to travel the world.
and she and her breasts would probably go on to have the wonderful life that they deserve. the celebrity she is serving looks from her cleavage to her eyes. she gives a little smile.
wally as it turns out.
would go on jeopardy and win, ensuring my mother's blessed rise to a higher economic status. the answer on wally's screen says who is albert camus? alex trebeck shakes his head, leaving wally with only $1, but enough to best his two competitors.
my father, no longer burdened with crippling child support payments, would now be able to afford the model bmw he always wanted.
and would come to find the surrogate son he always wanted in dwayne, the only organism alive that could possibly appreciate george's driving. as the car accelerates, we see the vanity plate reads thunder
leaving just one last piece of business.
sheeni! you knew!
shall we have breakfast, my love?
what are you doing?
do i get to stay and hear my grade?
very well, sheeni. don't be long.
well, good morning, franois. what do you think?
what do you mean?
i do, but.  we've come so far. what about sheeni?
sheeni, the police are here! he ducks down from the window as a chopper buzzes overhead.
quick! maybe i can sneak out the back!
i don't understand. how do they even know i'm alive?
well, thanks a pantsful!
but.  but why?
franois is right of course, but on the other hand, why be cruel? after all, sheeni had managed to give me hope every step of the way. and if hope is what sheeni would now need to go on, well then.
as always, you are right, my love. sheeni beams. franois smacks his forehead with hand.
arrested? ha. it may not appear so, but the truth is.  i've got the world on a string. sheeni emerges from the home, albert barking in protest. nick strains against his cuffs to look over his shoulder at her.
i will, darling.
as franois would remind me, i'm intelligent, healthy, virile, not violently ugly.  on the whole i am splendidly equipped for this great adventure we call the human existence. the fbi agents shove nick into the back of their black saturn.
besides, what jury would convict a teenager who acted out of love? and even if i do get to spend the next few months of my youth getting dwayned by the inmates of the california juvenile correctional system, i did get my thirty two minutes of lovemaking with one of the most outstanding girls of this or any other epoch. nick turns to face the front while behind him the waving figure gets ever more distant. a pensive moment as he actually questions.
but was it all worth it? nick revisits those thirty two minutes in his mind and it brings a smirk to his face.
you bet your left nut it was. and as tom jones' she's a lady kicks in, we.