Perfectly Unrealistic

Gerald gestures towards Keith, and then back to himself, smiling broadly as he does. “You know we’re connected, you and I are like brothers,” he sings as he slaps a cigarette packet against his palm, and skilfully catches a cigarette as it shoots out of the torn hole in the packets corner. “We just reversed our trajectories is all, I came out of my mum’s cunt, while you came in it,” he sneers as the flame to his lighter burns brightly to life with a flick of the flint.

Keith smiles nervously, “W-W-We’re not re-really going t-to do this r-right now, a-are we?”

Gerald takes a long drag on his cigarette and locks eyes with Keith as he holds the breath in for dramatic pause, then with a playful wink blows the lungs worth of smoke into his face. “Why not now, it’s the perfect place, the epicentre you could say,” Gerald says, as he winks once again.

Keith’s face twists, and his lips roll across each other like a boat on a sea. “We ain’t no FUCKING epicentre you fool, we’re two idiots with a side hustle that’s gone wrong. We’re marked by the devil himself, and he’s collecting. We are FUCKED, and you want to talk about how I painted your mum’s face with my CUM! Is that what you REALLY want to do right now?”

Gerald opens his jacket to show a growing red stain. “Yeah, yeah I think NOW is the perfect time.”