This guy Brian showed up in my shower last night. The water wasn’t on, he was just reading a comic book in there. Turns out he’s my guardian angel. He’s all like “hey, I’m Brian, and I’m here to show you how kick-ass life can be.” He calls it livin la vida Brian.
Cut to thirty minutes later, Brian’s just taught me like three different karate moves. Karate is a big part of his lifestyle. He convinces me that we’ve gotta go try these out on some people. I’m like, good idea, but I’m a beer and a half deep. And he’s like pfft, a little drinking and driving never hurt anybody.
It’s not until he calls 911 from my phone just to get all smug and say “God is dead, and the boys in blue killed him” that I start to think Brian may be kind of a bad influence. I’m trying to remember how we even met, but I get distracted cause he asks me if I want to see a magic trick. I’m a sucker for magic, but I want to play it cool, so I shrug all casual-like and say “yeah, whatever, if you’re into that type of thing I guess.”
He snaps his fingers and bam: three tickets to the local high school’s production of the Wizard of Oz appear in his hand. Brian and I look at each other and say “oh hells yeah!” in unison. Then we slap five. But wait! Why do we need three tickets if there’s only two of us? Well, Brian’s one step ahead of me. Snack chair. That’s right: roast lamb, rotisserie chicken, fettuccine alfredo-it’s enough to fill a whole chair plus the arm rests.
So we’re in the auditorium chowing down, and you’ll never guess who’s playing Dorothy. Give up? It’s my dumbass niece, Rebecca. Regardless of her dumbass status though, I have to admit, she has some really cool shoes.
So I go see her after the show. I don’t bring flowers cause Brian says they’re girly, but she seems to appreciate the leftover alfredo sauce. Her parents give me the same old rigamarole as always: “oh, dur, you’re not allowed to be within one hundred feet of our daughter, dur.” Brian, guardian angel that he is, recognizes the verbal assault and responds with a physical one. Wham bam, triple roundhouse crane flat-hand strike. Suddenly they’re on the ground. Cowering. Like baby birds.
Anyway I guess that kind of explains why I’m here, in court for assault, driving while intoxicated, and resisting arrest. Pretty simple misunderstanding. Brian disappeared using one of his classic smoke bombs right after that, but he’s the guy you want. I may have been drinking that night, but you know what I’ve learned the real drug is? Peer pressure. Not guilty. (Bangs personal gavel I brought from home.)