When Doug Calls – CH 3 – Anti-Popular

This is chapter three of an unpublished story I’m working on. I thought it would be fun to post a short chapter every week or so. I’d like to know what you think.

CH 3 – Anti-Popular

Another thing I’ll tell you about Doug that’s less amazing but still freaky is that he loves the crap out of the Soundtrack to Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, a glam-rock version of Beatles music from a subpar, 70’s movie starring the talented but miscast Bee Gees.   Before Doug died, he only listened to Kiss, AC/DC, and Alice Cooper (and there ain’t nothin’ wrong with that), but after TMI, it was the Sgt. Pepper’s Soundtrack, every time, all of the time, on an endless loop.  I don’t know why, it just was.

People began to think Doug was, you know, weird. I think it was the Sgt. Pepper’s Soundtrack that did him in, in the public’s opinion, I mean.  Truth be told, Doug was strange before TMI, like me.

Take a look back to before TMI, and before people were interested in him – Doug had a tough go of things.  I knew Doug in high school.  He wasn’t a popular kid, but neither was I, so… so what?  Right?  So what. Yeah. Anyway, we would walk home from school together because our houses were on the same block, not because bullies on ten-speeds would beat us up if they caught us alone.  Neither of us had girlfriends, but we could have if we wanted to.  We weren’t athletes or on a team because sports are dumb.  We did play a lot of D&D and Xbox. My Drunken Ranger, Zekedt (pronounced with no silent letters, “Zekedt”), was level 17 and a force to be reckoned with. Zekedt had many girlfriends all over the Four Realms, so I had that action going on.

Even now, I’m 31 years old, and Doug and I still live on the same block, except that Doug is in an apartment over his parent’s garage, and I’m in an apartment behind my parent’s home so, you know, we’ve grown in that way.  Matured.

This dumpster, though.  This dumpster. Doug should have told me more about it.

I curled up into a fetal position as I fell, bracing for an impact as the blackness of the open dumpster raced up to meet me.  I don’t remember feeling the impact but do recall a loud, “KA-BONG!” noise and then nothing.

*******

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