What kind of good, brah? The knock you down and drool s.h.i.t, or the semifunctional wicked body-buzz s.h.i.t?

DWAYNE:.

I'll take the s.h.i.t for when your awesome and talented kid gets f.u.c.ked over in baseball, so you kill the coaching staff and take over the team, then you take revenge on society sn.o.bs and financial bullies by killing a half dozen or so of them, then you lead two metro police forces on a ma.s.sive car chase dressed as Batman, go to jail, become a national hero, become buddies with the same cops who are trying to catch you, win a baseball championship that's covered on every major media outlet in the world, then find out your wife was f.u.c.king two of your best friends, before killing a few more people, changing your ident.i.ty, and abandoning everything you know to start a new life in an RV. So, whatever weed that is, I'll take it.

UZI:.

That's the drool s.h.i.t.

DWAYNE:.

I'm in.

UZI:.

On it.

DWAYNE:.

See you tonight.

Dwayne cranked up "Folsom Prison Blues," and a.s.sembled the necessary tools in his trunk. Johnny Cash sang about shooting a man just to watch him die. Dwayne understood.

Once finished at the rear of his car, Dwayne went up the stairs to his office, moving the credenza by his desk to the side, exposing his wall safe. This was where he kept his rainy day fund. It was about to start pouring.

Over the years, he'd managed to stash $247,000 into the safe, just a few thousand at a time. Dwayne stuffed all of the money into an old baseball bag, then made a small cut on his finger and wiped his blood on the wall beside the safe. He pushed the desk over and left the door to the safe open before leaping down the stairs and jumping back inside his Audi.

He picked up his phone and texted the guys.

DWAYNE:.

You guys ready to start the celebration?

RUSS:.

Ready to start? Are you serious? I started two weeks ago. I'm on 3 hits of acid, 2 hits of ecstasy, and a couple of 8-b.a.l.l.s right now. I'm wearing nipple clamps and hanging from a trapeze bar over my bed while Jade electrocutes my b.a.l.l.s.

TOMMY:.

No doubt, D! The party is rolling at my joint too! Glad you didn't call, 'cuz I've got a ball-gag in my mouth! Kelly just poured a whole jar of honey on me and she's spanking my big black a.s.s with a ping-pong paddle.

DWAYNE:.

Jesus ... Steve? What's up with you?

STEVE:.

Judith and I are drinking wine coolers, listening to NPR, and playing Strip Scrabble ... She's already naked. So yeah, we're partying too.

RUSS:.

There goes my b.o.n.e.r.

TOMMY:.

Dammit. Mine too.

STEVE:.

Mine is flying high.

RUSS:.

I'll need steel wool to wash that image off my brain.

DWAYNE:.

Great. Anyhow, I had an idea. Let's meet up at the ballpark before dinner to make one last memory. Just the guys. We'll meet up with the wives afterward. 8 tonight sound good?

RUSS:.