Dirg: ready?
Stan Lee: i was deathed ready. i will die ready.
Dirg: delay be not proud. just follow my lead. my instructions are can't-miss.
he leads the old codger up from his forelimbs and onto the peeling walls of his dank dark mansion, this man lit with the watercolor eyes of an old man who had lived too long to see the good world he had built sour.
Dirg: you're doing it, massa!
Stan's both hands and feet stick to the walls with no help. he looks and feels a little funny at first, but Stan's excitement overrides his sense and he begins to maneuver the sideway lanes of the wallpaper, he is really doing it, he is carving a new ancient aquarelle avenue! he's floating on air! well, sticking. he is moving like Spider-Man, he can stick to sides and enable around edges and his reach exceeds his grasp for the egress now is unlimited and as high as a skyscraper. he is a parkourist without a parka or mountain climbing boots with spikes and his only poles are his legs whittled to nothing in his old age. a trickle starts from the cocktail onion of his eye and begins to damp the carpets. Dirg tries not to see cos he wants to be strong in these trying situations and seeing his mentor cry will turn him into a mentee manatee.
Stan Lee: kindness. i'll never have to jump again.
Dirg: don't get all Doctor Who on me, old timer. that's later.
Stan Lee: no, kindness. remember: kindness. but for you, it was kidness.
Dirg: *non-awkward pause* so do you want me to continue? with the lessons. you want me to film practice?
Stan: i feel like an athlete who can throw around dollars! i never played football. i would have gotten killed.
Dirg begins uploading the practices online to the official university website. it grows such an audience in four minutes and there is such demand for more in the subreddits even though they are only words the comments peal with loud doombell sounds in Dirg's ears. like wedding bells but funeral bells. he gives in not cos he ever wanted to be popular but because he wanted to be left off the hook.
Dirg: does this clear me? am i out of my contract?
Stan: you always were. college shouldn't be a prison. a box of section comments. but i hope we continue. outside of school. i want to date you, let's see each other out of the classroom. do you feel accepted again? that's not the same as validation, only i can validate you.
Dirg: well followers are fickle but i am relieved i have full access to the Marvel youtube comments again, i do my best work there, i really feel i'm contributing to society molding those maggot minds over there.
the first practice is livecasted at 3PM on a lazy Wednesday afternoon before Finals and all the park benches roll their peels back up like fruit rollups. it gets so many views and hits the internet breaks and shuts down cos everybody and everypony are literally hitting their computer screens! Dirg goes without dinner chewing two slices of gum instead preparing the next broadcast.
Dirg: the first broadcast was you, Stan, moving around the walls of your mansion, not venturing outside though all the bay windows have no glass, teasing like a good broadcaster and moral host and thumbing around the edges and proving the impossible true, especially to your young viewers. you even added a tag where you gave some nice anodyne biblical good-natured cheer advice for the holidays and a hot-cocoa powder mix packet recipe to end the video. you say add a strawberry in your hot chocolate for Spider-Man. it got a million views but more importantly it broke the million-comment barrier for a single youtube vid. we beat that puerile and prurient punk princess PewDiePie. he's not a cutie-pie and should eat a non-woman pie and die, whoa i just got that. i know i'm jealous, he films his sex scenes on Swedish-craftsmanship kitchen tables with his girlfriend that week like it was some ordinary porn to stream to his kid fans. in the second vid, i had you spider on the ceiling of the mansion, you even had requests from female fans wanting you to negotiate the chandelier and possibly ride it upside-down. that vid got a billion views and a billion comments, extending our Guinness record. Guinness is still a non-beer thing? i thought all colleges now invest in near-beer to avoid lawsuits. what could we possibly do for the finale that would top it off?
Stan: it's not about getting bigger and bigger, son, it's about getting smaller and smaller. limit your orbit to goodness, not popularity, but i think i am really for the fall. for the plunge. i'm gonna venture outside like a good little Venture Brother. take my chances as the cast of the wind, @ the wind! caveat emptor! *quietly* i mean excelsior *raised white-hair fist*
Dirg: okay wait i dunno we're moving too fast. i don't think a trillion is possible on this planet, not enough folk on this earth. i mean if you really want to the potion will hold i mean your spirit will hold. you onto the ceiling. you want to go outside? and do what?
Stan: just feel my bare knees against the brick laying of the outside mansional walls. wave hello to the beautiful humanity stationed outside waving at me. i want to wave back and smile.
Dirg: your smile will fill every kid's balloon with warm air. eh, as long as we're not handwaving this thing. it will be a spectacle of spirituality. it will be lovely......okay, do it, just be careful. don't wear shoes, it heavies you down. i won't be around, i've got errands and stuff. i'll set up the camera from my drone on a pod outside sticking to the smokestack of the roof, that should capture all your motions. see ya see ya wouldn't wanna be ya! peace and kisses.
the two meet at Good Times at Davey Wayne's on campus. the bros and the crones. yellow exterior, looks like a peeling wooden surf shack with no nails from the '70s. the interior of the club an exact representation of the brothers' dad's shaggy-carpet living room and fuzzy furniture and glass ornaments from the swingin' married family man's bachelor pad. and nachos.
Dirg: cool place. very indie L.A. club vibes look. quick scan of the menu and i'll have the hallacas. and agave lemonade? cauliflower pizza? okay, whatevs as you guys say.
Individual Brother #1: us Asians?
Dirg: no you cool guys who get all the chicks. you young entrepreneurs who get to own a club right out of college. heeeeeey, now i get it!!! you guys are the REAL crazy rich fresh Asians!
Individual Brother #2, who's a twin: funny you should say that. L.A. the two Coasts are the same, we borrow from them. we use only the freshest ingredients, daily catch.
Dirg: i like the ceramic dog, replica of someone special? i'm in a rush, go.
Laertus: i was just thinking of how the neighborhood used to be. remember before the endless construction? you had Do Re Mi Music on the flip corner, which is gone now. where am i gonna get all my Smashing Pumpkins and NIN albums now? those are the only two albums i actually buy as a material now, for the booklet cover art. the rest of the bands i stream free.
Diorg: hear ya. yeah, all the old pizza places are gone. Pizza Factory. why do stores close when the construction hits, isn't that a bit counterintuitive? are you noticing less traffic? these new lanes are supposed to help with bikes.
Doryce: speaking of, we're here, too, and want some service form those two handsome brothers. take your shirts off like in the old days in sunny L.A.! ooooh pizza, i am so horny for pizza. pizza is like horny food for females.
Gladyce: dear these will tide you over. get it? it's a new box i got at The Store.
Doryce: oh these are heavenly! Cheezit New Flavor. Cheezit that are cheese-pizza-flavored! these are the greatest squares i've ever eaten. and i've eaten my share of squares in my long short life. i've already eaten the whole box. and i'm still horny!
Gladyce: i got something we can order only here. it's gonna be delicious and delightful and surprising and you're gonna think why didn't they think of this before? from the Orient after all.
Dirg: the traditions are fading and no one cares. you're gonna miss them when they're gone. Subway Meatball Subs using garlic bread for the bread. Holiday Pie from McDonald's. you know i remember when my dad took me to Do Re Mi to get my first Rush record, our first, well his first, it was gonna be a bonding moment because the Rush record was so long we had to have a conversation to fill the time of the awkward silence. tht's all i remember, i blacked out, or the music did, i don't want to remember it anymore, he was trying to go over all the cryptic symbols and D&D monsters used in the lyrics but they weren't as cool coming form him, you know how kids are. anyway i just remember the white Pinto drive over to the Do Re Mi when they still had that cul-de-sac where you could hang your Pinto pistols kept on display in full view in the backseat visible from the small circle window back there. hey you getting on okay without your computer? i have to use it for very important matters.
Laertus: no worries. i'm using the ones in the computer lab. i go at night so i won't get spotted. i'm using my new friend's computer over there.
Dirg: oooooh, i must meet her if she exists someday. sucks now. whenever i try to reboot the movie again the hot illegal-bride bridey Russian lady with the ass the size of a Russian count's dining longtable no longer appears, it's just some chick from BeenVerified giving the intro that is always in mute.
Laertus: exists.
Dirg: *touches his shoulder then his own shoulder* gotta go pal, drinks on the house and i am the house, i'm practically a doctor now, i can pay for things, anything, i'm suddenly youtube-rich!
Madame Pons: you seem groggy, you okay? there's no more left, you used it up in one sitting. or standing. on a ceiling.
Dirg: i was practically on drugs when i started out. i had to get the hang of it myself. i was climbing the ceilings and bouncing off the walls trying to figure it out. literally. at night cos he slept during the day. it's okay, i can handle it, my head has always been airy.
Madame Pons: you still have the vaginal egg inside you?
Dirg: this whole time. i'm juggling a lot of balls but that one has remained firm in my body. i'm clenching it like a vise with just the one string of my cockhole. the X of a normal glans to pee has been opened into the gaping maw of a cuttlefish. forget it, screw it, i don't need to pee. i don't drink, this is how i really am.
Madame: i can tell. i can see your aura in front of you even if you can't. you're feeling feelings more. deeper. it's time you confessed. you did nothing wrong. i know i'm not your only friend. or even one. you have a better one. a longer one.
Dirg: best. advice. ever. okay, i know, i'll do it. if Stan can Man can. i'll do it later tonight when it's quiet at out cabin in the woods.
Madame: when you finally confide, the weight of hate is lifted into a stream. you find yourself with fins talking again, and writing. it's your best work cos it flows out of you. inspiration doesn't know which term it is. and plus, you shoulder the burden of responsibility onto another person who now shares your pain, it's kinda fun that way, gives them the responsibility.
Dirg: passing it off on someone else, like a blunt circle. taking no responsibility for one's actions, i like it. hey it's not my fault, right? laters, therapy toots.
Dirg: can we make the call from here?
Laertus: sure, it's all normal now.
Eye Luggage: go. Doctor Who finale.
Dirg: underwhelming. next series get rid of Yaz, she's worthless.
Laertus: you are too cruel for school.
Dirg: then when Team Fam is wondering why Yaz has suddenly disappeared from their close tightknit group, Jodie will clamly explain that Yaz has became her own grandmother from the Punjab episode.
Eye: no Family Guy Christmas special this year, bummer. tribute to Carrie made up for it. i've since learned to fish. you know eventually all my sisters with the purple lightsabers raised and the Princess Leia RESIST signs will become in reality the Resistance to what's happening in reality. it will no longer be a film with blue in it, it'll be a blueprint. okay, fam, i'm off next week, the pod will be cast in cooling blue. the relatives and descendants are descending on town, which means i need to come as soon as possible and leave...
President Bump is in a smock, painting away in the Cream House Green Wing. he is so splotched with the rainbow of caterpillar colors a mustache of paint forms below his nose.
Katy Tur: sir, i don't know what to make of these baby clothes you gave me. i didn't invite you to the baby shower.
Bump: thought it was another kind of shower. what, they say BANANA REUBLIC STUFF, i thought it was cute, love that brand of clothing. Secret Service while shopping at a Baby Gap alone was a logistical nightmare. surfer, right?
Katy: at this point i would have rather one of your paintings, even if it's a dark Gumball painting. you might surprise and bush us.
Bump: i'd wear a beret but my hair......hey what happened to Robin Meade on HLN!? she's not there anymore! replaced by two chicks who wore the same red dress that one day, that was hilarious! she was an HLN Deal! what's up with Cohen? he looks so sad. he looks exactly like if the Sopranos were a real thing. very smart, bringing in his family like that for the first time at his sad-sack sentencing. that's very mob and mob-moll. hot daughter with the fur Tiny Tim crutch to influence the judge. how are you holding up, Theresa May?
Theresa May: literally not well. i'll put it to you this way: before Brexit, i didn't have a hump in my back. the MPs are snickering behind my humped back and coyly calling me Esmeralda.
Bump: i wish you were Nancy Pelosi, you're a nice woman, she is very nasty.
Pelosi: sir, stop mansplaining everything, i'm a crone, i've been around the block.
Bump spreads his legs more open on the sofa in the meeting. Pence has a glazed look in his eyes on the loveseat.
Pence: sorry, i didn't read my lines for today, the script changed. i'm like DeNiro, i can't do impromptu live tv, i need a lot of preparation.
Chuck Schumer: H is for hell. the trick is to look directly at the camera.
Amy Motta: hello everyone! i am welcome at the Red Table!
Aisha Moodie-Mills: bitch whatcha doin' here? just cos you're an A like me? the only think you're known for is that insanely freaky and scary white smile of yours! what else do you do? you're just teeth. eat yo applesauce bitch!
Stephen A Smith: *making the eating-with-a-spoon motion* okay, i'm not panciked yet. the Cowboys are in the Super Bowl. but there's still a chance for them to lose EVERYTHING.
Laertus: yeah, pass me the blunt...
Stephen A Smith: you smoke?
Laertus: when i see red. i want to live in a world that is justified for Julia Ioffe to exist peacefully and sexily with her puns. and to coexist with symbols on a T shirt. i am attracted to Maureen Dowd's frog mouth and weird middle-class accent and movie quotes and screwball comedy and reportette repartee. is Paganism our post-Christian future? Maureen is the sexiest dowdy person i know. you know she's a pistol in bed with her wit and bleeding charm. when everyone likes something, there must be something wrong with it. i want to travel the world and stop and stay in India and experience that fascinatingly insular exciting Indian cricket culture that is like Bollywood for sports, that stays secret to their sky, bright lights hidden by the city. that whole inroad where all the cricket stars marry Bollywood actresses and have babies who become cricket gardeners. i want to report on cricket like that English actor. the real cricket played in India. i want to be well-rounded and an all-rounder. i don't want to strike-rate out with the right person. that is the fame of family.
Bump: going to a Scientology Clearing. thank you, next. hello? Piers? who should be my Chief of Staff?
Piers Morgan: i really think it should be Ariana Grande. yeah, she has the ear of the public and she pulses when she dances. tremendous sway on that one, she really knows what they want and are after. the new voters, the young voters. she's so old she won't turn down the job. i can already see her plastic-surgery lines under my hot lights.
Mueller: i thought that was me. *Mueller kisses Comey on the lips* this is the ultimate Resistance. to Russia. btw, never noticed Ashley Parker's huge tits before till i saw that Washington Post article where the three all lined up as phalanx warriors for that The Front Lines press-pool feature. she always wore a parka with me.
Bump: you two disgust me! take that stuff to a college campus!
Comey: oooh, a new technique you learned from Melbourne? you're helping me get over, get off, get through, and get a divorce tattoo. Ash to ash. and that ass. when are you gonna finally invite me to dinner, Bob? i heard you got a mansion...
Mueller: you're not treating my star witness too roughly, right, Mick? no paddywagon pummels?
Bump: Butina? don't yous worry, she's not being tortured, she's just really into BDSM. pommel horse is a different thing in her country. we even took her blindfold off so she could see the Geminid Shower. again, different shower.
there's a rumbling at Davey Wayne's. like an earthquake that lasts forever. the roof starts to shake. the neon arrows which normally point to Live Nudes have been replaced with a neon sign, and one part of that sign crashes to the ground below in calm palm palmetto bushes. the graffiti which remains under the piece of sign reads:
BRUCE
the crones and bros and Reds all look up from their coffees.
Doryce: what happened? something happened.
Dirg races back home. then he gets a running start. then he hits the ground running.
and he finds Stan Lee has died. or is in the process of dying, Stan has fallen off the roof on the outside-bricklayed layer of the Mansion and he plunged into the green recycling bin. he lays. still. still quivering. Stan's head is no more, there is only his heart. Stan's placid face is now all smiles and is ready to give his last column of advice, cos he never considerd his Last Words. he always thought of others, not the finality of himself. when you help, you extend yourself. he pulls a gaped Dirg in close with his sweater hand and hugs him to get close to Dirg's ear. meanwhile the spectators assembled are horrified, they saw this live! and in the livestream! in real time! they are hopping mad, they jump up and down and throw soy bombs in Dirg's face. then they storm the purple chainlink fence made of stone paper rings, pouring soy sauce all over Dirg's face and body so he is an unrecognizable venom monster.
mob-rule crowd audience: YOU ANIMAL! TAKE HIM OUT OF THE TRASH!!!
Stan Lee doesn't want to be helped out of anything. he kisses Dirg's ear.
words of wisdom are to be whispered.
