if you survive, you go on. And you can either try and make life better, or not. It’s usually up to you. But I’ve found that working to improve your circumstances usually comes out better than sitting on the couch being angry that someone else has something you don’t, while eating frosting right out of the can.”
“You stay off my Facebook page!” Stanley drunkenly threatened. He probably shouldn’t have posted about his frosting binge, but he’d really deserved that promotion. He drained the rest of his beer and then belched loudly.
“Whoa, nice one!”
Stanley looked up to see Lisa the Trivia Warrior standing there. Chris wouldn’t even need to shoot him, because Stanley died of embarrassment right there on the spot. “Sorry, Lisa. That was gross.”
“It’s cool. That was impressive. It had reverb. I missed you at trivia.”
“Did you win?” he asked stupidly.
“Crushed it. I’m still the Ox Knuckles reigning champion.” Then she noticed Chris. “Hi, Stanley’s friend.”
“Hello.” Chris waved. “I’m from out of town. Would you care to join us for naw chows, fermented beverages, and jellied alcohol?”
“No thanks.” She just kind of shook her head at the weirdo. “Anyway, I gotta go. Work tomorrow. You’d better not sit out next time. I need good competition to keep me sharp. Even totally wasted you’re still probably the smartest guy in the room. Bye, Stanley.”
Stanley waved drunkenly as she left. Belatedly, he realized he should’ve tried blinking Morse code at her. Lisa was a genius. She would’ve gotten it and sent a SWAT team.
“She’s cute and nice,” Chris said. “I think she’s really into you.”
“Shut your handsome face, Chris. Leave Lisa out of this!”
“No, really. I think you should ask her out on a date.”
“Ha! Look at me. I’m a slob. A woman like that would never have anything to do with the likes of me! She’d never have my little future Hitler babies.”
“That was just a hypothetical. I never specifically said—”
“I’m a loser, Chris. I’m such a loser that the world’s friendliest Terminator had to travel back in time to shoot me to save the universe from how much I suck!”
“I’m not actually a robot.”
“You are a robot!” Stanley had gotten pretty loud, and people were starting to look their way. “But I’ll show you, robot man!” He tried to stand up, almost made it over Chris, and wound up falling on the table instead.
A few minutes later, Ox Knuckles’ owner and bartender, a big guy named John, was helping Stanley out the front door. “Stan’s a little morose, but he doesn’t usually drink this much. Would you make sure he gets home safe?”
“I sure will,” Chris assured him. “I believe the excessive alcohol consumption was the result of his stressful day.”
“Wait, John.” Stanley’s speech was slurred, and he was seeing two bartenders, but he had to get help. “Don’t leave me! I’m Sarah Connor and he’s from the future!” He grabbed John by the apron. “The future.” Then Stanley had to lurch to the side so he could throw up in the bushes.
* * *
—
Stanley woke up the next morning with the worst hangover he’d had since college. His head hurt, his eyes hurt, even his liver hurt. He was in his apartment, in his own bed, still wearing the same clothes just minus his shoes, and his cat, Fluffles, was sleeping on his head.
Suddenly remembering that a future ninja was out to get him, Stanley lurched upright, sending Fluffles flying. Panicked, he looked around, but everything appeared normal.
Fluffles meowed at him angrily, like What the hell, man?
“Thank goodness. It was all a terrible dream.”
“Oh, you’re finally awake.” Chris walked into the bedroom, dressed like he had just returned from a jog. “Awesome.”
Stanley screamed and flung his pillow at Chris.
Chris easily caught the pillow, and sighed as he pulled the little gun out of his pocket. “I really thought we’d worked past all this running and screaming last night. When I tucked you in, you even said that was the best conversation you’d had in