Posts Tagged ‘Steven’

I was brought in to interview Charlie Sheen.  We met late at night, outside an upscale hotel downtown.  We went inside and took the elevator up to a floor that wasn’t open yet.  The only people there were employees working after hours.  They were playing miniature golf, so we joined in.

After our game of mini-golf we started the interview over dinner.  Sheen had Chinese.  He used his chopsticks to dip what seemed to be rice balls into sauce and then into his mouth.  After he chowed down on a few I noticed they were in fact balls of cocaine.

“So how are you doing?” I asked.

He chomped on another ball of cocaine and replied, “I’m wearing a fucking Joe DiMaggio Bronx Bombers jersey.  How do you think I’m doing?”

After the interview we strolled down the city streets.  I spotted Steven and waved him to come over.  Sheen turned to Steven and shot lightning bolts out of his fingers, blasting holes into my friend.  Steven fell to the ground in a bloody mess.  I cried until the ambulance arrived.

I squeezed into the packed theater row.  “Excuse me, excuse me, sorry.”  Every purple upholstered seat was filled with people eagerly awaiting the exclusive premiere.  Little did they know they were all actually here to witness me receiving an award, so I tried to hide my smile.

I found my seat in the middle of the row and got settled.  The murmur of the crowd grew with anticipation.  The doors to the back of the theater opened, and several security guards streamed into the hall and stopped in the aisle at either end of my row.  One pointed at me.  I nodded, stood, and squeezed my way back out.  As soon as I was free of the seats they tackled me violently, dragging me down to the ground.

I tried fighting them off, but there were too many.  Dragged to my knees I threw a few off, raised my fists into the air and screamed, “KHAAAAAAAN!”  With that the guards relented, stepping back.  I stood and smiled, basking in the audience’s applause at my performance and award.

After that it was time to board the plane for home.  I arrived at the airport and began to ascend the escalator up to the flight’s gate.  The top of the escalator was screened off with thick blue curtains.  A stewardess was standing off to the side near the curtains, filing her nails, clearly bored out of her mind.  Parting the curtains I was surprised to realize the escalator ended right outside the plane’s cockpit.  I turned to the right, heading toward the doorway to the plane, and was suddenly sucked off my feet by the powerful pull of the plane’s jet engines running at full throttle just behind me!  I clung for life to the escalator’s railing, looking to the stewardess, pleading for help.  She just shrugged and went back to her nails.

“Service here has really gone down,” commented my mother from further down the escalator.

I scowl extra hard at the stewardess as I pick myself up from the ground and head into the plane.  Once inside it is quickly apparent the airplane is gigantic, the interior easily the size of the theater I had just left.  There was a mix up with my ticket, and my original seat had been taken, so I went upstairs to the only open section of seats.  A few passengers in front of me were just taking there seats.  Four rows of seats sat upon a large circular cardboard platform, suspended from the ceiling like a chandelier.  I watched each passenger walk to the ledge next to the platform, pause, and time their jump with the swinging of the chandelier.

“Screw this,” I said.

I walked up to the ledge, tossed my luggage over the side to the level below and then followed it, leaping down to the ground.  This level of the plane was much nicer.  Where are Lucas, Melissa, and Steven? I knew I would find them someplace around here.  I bet their seats weren’t taken. I soon found them, seated in sections walled off from the rest of us by thick, curved Plexiglas like a huge fish tank.  Man, they’re lucky.  Those are good seats.