Just Kidding, But Seriously...

"Meow" is Dog for "Your Chicken Suit Is Ripped"

"Well," Luke's voice started tentatively from the other end of the line, "that escalated quickly."

I sighed. "Tell me about it."

"I still can't get over the fact that you took my car and left me stranded in Oakland Mall with Scarlett on her period," Raymond's voice grumbled into our three-way. "Do you even realize how terrifying-"

"I'm actually more surprised that he didn't manage to get into a car accident," Luke told him, cutting him off. "We all know how mediocre Derek's driving ability is."

"You and me both," I replied, falling backwards onto my squishy bed. My head hit my fluffy pillow, my eyes scanning the pale ceiling, now covered in nightly shadows, while I added thoughtfully, "Although I did almost run over a lady that looked a lot like Senora Gessen wearing a huge, flowery hat. It's a good thing your windows are tinted, Raymond."

"Oh yeah, good thing," he said sarcastically. "Yeah, I specially tinted those windows just in case my friend decided to steal my car and use it to run away from cops with his date because he was stupid enough to eat a freaking Skittle without paying for it."

"See, Luke," I said cheerfully, "he knows me."

Suddenly a growl emanated from the phone, reminding me of a hungry lion. "How many red lights did you pass? And how fast were you going? Were the cops chasing you?" Raymond demanded.

"Uhhhhh," I dragged out, casting my mind back to those fifteen minutes of terror on the road. It was surprisingly hard to remember, even though it had only happened a few hours ago. I suppose that's what happens when you're too busy driving for your life. "Well, I'm pretty sure I had my foot pressed on the gas pedal the entire way, and perhaps maybe I might have passed a couple of red lights-but see, that was because the cops were chasing us! They were on motorcycles, too. And you know how fast motorcycles can go."

"I don't actually," Raymond said flatly.

"I do," Luke chirped. "Up to two-hundred miles per hour. Perhaps even more, depending on the brand."

There was a beat of silence where I could practically see Raymond closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Thanks, Luke," he said, his voice teetering between explosive anger and weary exasperation. "Where would I be without that encyclopedia brain of yours? God only knows."

"Your sarcasm is one of the qualities I admire most about you, my friend," Luke answered. "Mainly because it is quite amusing."

"This is not a joke!" Raymond suddenly roared. "Those cops could have taken a picture of my car-they could show up at my doorstep at any moment! Or they could use my license plate number to send me a huge ticket! What are we going to do about this, Derek?"

"Well," I said into the succeeding silence, clearing my throat. "I mean, I haven't gone to the bathroom yet, but when I do, I'll take a peek into the toilet and see if I find any red skittle in there so that I could return it back to the store. You never know."

Luke cackled wildly. I grinned at myself.

"Hilarious," Raymond said, although it didn't sound like he found my joke to be very funny. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

"So I've been told," I remarked.

"What I want to know is," Luke began, his tone hinting at a subtle subject change, "what did Gwen think of all of this?"

The grin on my face dropped like it was hot. "Well..." I began in a murmur. "Let's just say that by the time we lost the cops and I parked in front of her house, she didn't speak, didn't even move a muscle-it was as if she were frozen. Her face looked as if she had just seen a ghost, and her hands were gripping the edges of her seat so tightly I could see the white in her knuckles. Oh, and she was breathing like a caveman and her right eye was twitching."