Stan:- Steve, I’m- I’m not melting. Geez. Can you please– ugh, never mind.
Despite how hot the environment is, I guess we’ve grown…accustomed to the temperature we live in. And I don’t know about Steve, but I’ve felt hotter. Then again, I was in a tux, not a paper thin sweater.
Steve:- Yeah, well, it would’ve been nice if Mother Nature actually stopped roasting us for once. Maybe if we moved somewhere nicer–
Stan:- Then there’d be more people coming in and we’d be sitting ducks during open season. Thank Notch I’m the one making the maps, too.
Steve:- Hey! I can make good maps! A few wrong words and numbers don’t make a map bad! Right?
Oh, no, no no no, don’t get the wrong idea. He never went there to actually buy stuff. Does he look like some Cheeto stained greaseball to you? Get outta here.
But there was plenty of stuff to do there that didn’t involve buying not a single damn thing.
Ever since the mall was shut down for… shit, he didn’t even know. A car place? Some kind of— mega—- car— anyway, whatever, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that there wasn’t anything else to do in this two-bit town anymore. And with nothing to do, a guy could go a little…
Racing shopping karts, hiding in the clothing piles and jumping out at random passerbys, pretending you were a guide and messing with the poor bastards’ heads, he could spend a whole day at Walmart and never get bored. Soon as he started running out of ideas, a whole flood of new ones came bursting through. No, come on, stay, there’s still so much to do.
Best part was, nobody ever did a damn thing about it! He never got caught, not even once. The worst he got was a few complaints. The place must’ve been so huge that they had better things to do than catch some brat. Dunno who was so bad that they kept skipping over him but damn did he want to kiss the guy. Thanks to them, it was No Man’s Land! A genuine A-grade Baba O’Reily Teenage Wasteland! Hands on deck, every man for himself.
And he loved it.
He could never get his brother to come along, of course. He thought the park was a cesspool of sin, okay. Getting him anywhere was a challenge. Walmart was downright impossible. Whatever. His loss. He could stay at home with his dumb books if the real world scared him so much. Dante was gonna live the high life, thank you very much.
Yes sirree, life couldn’t get better than this, he thought as he lounged on a model porch chair, bag of popcorn by his side (that he bought, okay, bought). This was fancy living, through and through. He stretched out and smiled to himself. Man, why would anyone ever want to leave? Can’t believe he never thought of this before. The rest of the world might as well be dead. The screaming kids, the roving bands of rednecks, the overworked clerks looking for just one more smoke, dead. He hardly even noticed the cool shadow passing over hi…wait.