Playground

by Aron Beauregard

Greg turned around, shooting laser beams through the most disappointing sperm he’d ever unleashed.

“The stupid whore killed herself! She should’ve listened! I gave you very simple instructions. In fact, we know they were simple if you’re still here!”

they were already dead. Dead inside, dead alive, and dead tired.

The wheels were turning in all their heads, but the one with the dead hamster inside spoke first.

The metaphor wasn’t even intentional. She wasn’t ready to let go.

Donnie was just there.

“Maybe he’s a psychopath,” she suggested. They both shared a hearty laugh,

He’d become the embodiment of his favorite fruit snack, Gushers.

“But, I’m—I’m your mother!” she cried. “And I’m a motherfucker,” Rock grumbled.

“If you didn’t have bad luck, you wouldn’t have any at all,”