Dreams Never Die

Its Not All That Bad

"Watch your left Crispy, watch it...WATCH OUT DUDE!"

Somebody sent a kastet grenade flying from Crispy's left side, and Crispy watched the killcam as the man aimed right for his feet. Aim...BANG! Crispy continued to watch as his body fell limp on the ground, somewhat like a ragdoll. He respawned, and was killed again instantly by someone sitting in a corner.

"Goddamn corner campers, ruining Call of Duty since day fucking one!" Crispy yelled angrily. "This is exactly why I decided to STOP playing Ghosts Master! Fuck this, I'm out of here!"

Before Master even got a chance to try to persuade him to stay, Crispy left the party and game. He went to the Xbox Dashboard for a bit, and scrolled through his friends list a few times, seeing if there was anyone he wanted to play with. There were so many people he used to talk to on there. But now he has so many new friends. He couldn't decide.

As he continued scrolling, he received an invite from Ninja. Odd, he never sends invites. Ever. Something seemed off. He accepted the invite.

He joined, and it was just Ninja in the party. Even more off. Crispy felt a little uneasy. Ninja usually didn't invite people himself because he didn't talk all that much. And even if he did send an invite, he was NEVER alone.

"Is something wrong, Ninja?" Crispy asked with a slight shakiness.

A deep meowing sound, which didn't sound like a cat at all, came from Ninja's mic.

"N-Ninja?" Crispy stuttered.

"Oh, my bad Crispy, I guess I forgot to explain myself. It's me, Hotpocket. I'm license transferring from Ninja, he should be getting on my account any minute," Hotpocket said rather cheerfully. Crispy took a breath. He thought something was seriously wrong with Ninja. But now he knows, it was just Hotpocket.

"You scared me there for a sec Hotpocket, I thought something was wrong," Crispy said gladly. "Wait, what are you license transferring for?"

"Oh, I wanted Ninja to get Mount Your Friends but he didn't want to spend money, so he is license transferring it from me in exchange for The Ugly Duckling," Hotpocket replied, without any apparent shame.

Crispy asked, "There's a game called The Ugly Duckling?"

"No, silly!" Hotpocket said. "He's mailing me the book! He's sending me an audio file, so I can lis--oh, h-hey Ninja."

Ninja joined the party, and asked Hotpocket one question.

"Hotpocket. Why the fuck do you tell people these things?"

"Well, it kinda just comes to mind, you see what I mean?" Hotpocket said cooly.

"No because I can't fucKING SEE YOU!" Crispy butted in, causing everyone to chuckle a bit. That made Crispy feel good. He was funny.

After a bit of conversation and downloading, the group of friends somehow got onto the topic of jobs. Crispy already had a job, and so did Ninja and Hotpocket. Crispy checked the clock. 2:16 p.m. Shit, his shift at Staples started soon. Ah, he could wait a bit. Ninja was talking about this really interesting story that happened at his job, and he didn't want to be rude by leaving in the middle of it. He waited.

Ninja was really into the story, sound effects and all. "He started flipping all of the clothing racks over, he was so mad. He was making these really weird grunting noises like grr grr and he whacked all the folded clothes off the shelves. I had to grab the walkie talkie and call backup, and security came, but by then the store was totally trashed. This one really big black security guard punched the dude in the face, it sent him flying all the way across the store!"

"Kinda like how you punched your niece in the mouth, right Ninja?" Hotpocket laughed.

"Hotpocket I told you to stop telling people that!" Ninja said through the uncontrollable laughter coming from Crispy and Hotpocket.

Once their laughter died down, Crispy told Ninja and Hotpocket that he had to leave and go to his job now. They were going to miss him. Crispy said his goodbyes, turned off his xbox, and changed his clothes. Then he ran out the door, hopped on his bike, and rode all the way to Staples, which was six towns over.

**********

Crispy punched in, and walked over to his station. He hated his job with a passion. He always got an attitude from the people shopping there, and he had to deal with ALL of them because he was working the register. His boss was such a jerk, he pays him minimum wage, and never gives him a raise. Crispy does a good job too. It's a shame. But he does whatever he has to do to pay the bills.

"Oh, how I wish I didn't have to deal with this bullshit," Crispy thought. "I hope I can find the guy of my dreams and---wait, back up. Thoughts, did you just think of the guy of my dreams? But, I'm not attracted to...guys...right? Nah, I can't be. I was raised to like women. All types, thick and juicy. But thats gross. Urh, its giving me shivers just thinking about it. Maybe I really do like guys. Thats probably the reason I was checking out that guy Jedi's ass...ahh whatever."

"Hey mister dickhead, are you even listening?"

Whoops. Looks like Crispy was daydreaming again. Now he has an angry customer on his hands. Wonder
whose fault THAT was...

When Crispy was about an hour into his shift, he just finished bagging some items for a rather nice elderly lady. She was the last on line, so he wiped his face with relief and rubbed his eyes. He was exhausted. When he pulled his hands away, everything was a bit blurry, but he saw two figures walking into the store. He put on his glasses and blinked a few times.

"Wow," he whispered to himself.

"That's the most magnificent angel that I have ever laid my eyes on."