it’s that time again

My wrists are fresh and raw from being fucking bound for the last two weeks. Not in tight ropes, mind you. But in bloody iron chains. I mean, what the hell?

And then I told Victor there was really no need for the collar and leash.

“You are not in a position to negotiate,” the bastard said and then asked me to show my neck. “You’ve had fun and what else can you ask for?”

You’ve had a lot of fun and what else can you ask for. The moment he said this rubbish, I suddenly wanted to beat him up. Number one, it’s not like he let me out of my cell just because he wanted me to have a bit of fun. We both damn knew he needed me to take over so I could fix up a ton of his mess.

Number two, well, I just badly wanted to beat someone up.

Only I would not really ever dare to cross Victor. His dating skills suck, his political leanings are obsolete, and his short stories will only be liked by his friends. But that’s the most I could ever get to piss him off.

I hate to admit, but he’s really the stronger guy between the two of us. Among other things, as he often liked to say with a smirk.

So I stayed in my cell like a good boy and awaited orders. I have a hunch Victor’s not done needing me yet. I saw him often staring at a blank page in his notebook. Whoa. Lookit that, I thought. He’s lost for words.

And come on, you have to give it to me, you guys liked me. And for Victor, you know, it sort of left him bigger shoes to fill. My shoes.

So earlier this morning, I heard the sound of opening locks and then Victor was there against the frame of the cell iron bars, staring at me. Trying to look casual. Trying to pretend he doesn’t need a favor. Trying to just look cool. Pathetic loser.

“I guess you want to say good bye on my blog,” he finally said in his trademark Deadpan Tone. He uses that tone only on me and, right now, on four or five other people.

“Our blog?” I replied, just to try to tick him off.

“No. Mine. Let’s just say your blogging benefits are, err, “coterminus” with the job you just had to do for me. So perhaps you want to write a farewell post.”

“Cotermanus, your ass.”

Victor kept silent and just led me out of my cell. He showed me a fucking new laptop I haven’t seen before. He said I have an hour.

Jeez, what am I supposed to say here? I mean, I don’t honestly think this would be my last. Well, at least I hope so. But leave your comments, right? And I’ll ask Victor to read them to me through the bars.

For now, I’d just say you guys are awesome and you are the coolest folks I’ve ever met. And well, yeah, remember to miss me please?

*You know where the photo is from, buddy.


11 thoughts on “it’s that time again

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