“Fuckin’ nose won’t stop running,” Snake lamented.

“So take some Theraflu or shit,” counseled Freaky John. “Shit works great.”

“It’s not a cold, retard, it’s a fuckin’ sinus infection.”

“I thought they were the same thing.”

“Fuck, I gotta see a doctor, dude, this thing is killing me.”

“You got health insurance?”

Snake stroked his goatee. “No. I oughta go down to the VA and get some benefits.”

“What the fuck’s the VA got to do with anything?”

“I’m a goddamn veteran, that’s what. Christ, you’re stupid sometimes.”

Freak nodded sagely. “I didn’t know you served.”

Snake thumped his chest somewhere in the vicinity of his left lung. “With—” He erupted in a sudden fit of coughing. “With pride,” he choked.

“Good for you. When did you serve?”

“Started the same fuckin’ day as you, dipshit. We joined together, remember?”

Freak scrunched his eyebrows in thought. “No, I don’t think I ever enlisted, man.”

“Did too.”

“Unreal. I’m pretty sure I’d remember something like that. What branch?”

Snake smacked himself in the forehead.” You’re like talking to a motherfucking wall. The Army!”

“The Army, huh.” Freaky John laughed. “That’s fucked up, dude. I always thought I was more of a Navy man.”

“Nope. KISS Army, all the way.”

Freaky John stared at the wall for a minute. “I don’t think the KISS Army’s got much in the way of benefits, man.”

Copyright 2005 Amy Frushour Kelly. All rights reserved.
Reproduction by any means prohibited without prior written consent.