The New Flesh

“Quit hogging the Cheetos, you stupid fuck.”

Bill rolls his eyes at Lester's lame excuse for a dirty look. More of this shit? Bill sighs. He doesn't even like Lester.

“Is that your way of saying you want some Cheetos,” Bill asks, “because I'm more than happy to share.”

Lester glares at Bill, clearly not appreciating the sarcasm. Bill glares back. He opens his eyes as wide as possible, and flares his nostrils, causing Lester to look away.

“So gimme the Cheetos already,” Lester says. He tries to glare again, but Bill is still making the ridiculous angry-Anime face. Lester folds his arms, sighs disgustedly, and fixes his gaze back on the television. Bill laughs, and tosses the bag of Cheetos at Lester. Several of them spill out on Lester's lap, causing him to recoil. He lets out a shriek, and Bill rolls his eyes again.

“Jeez... you believe this guy?” Bill says to the bonobo seated beside him.

“Frankly, no. He's crass, whiny, keeps a messy flat, and it's no secret that he doesn't bathe very often,” Jimmy, the bonobo, replies. Jimmy knows the question was rhetorical, but he doesn't care. He's in that sort of mood. "I'd go so far as to say he bloody well stinks."

“Why are you guys even here?” Lester is leaning over his chair, picking Cheetos from around the cushion. He huffs and glares again, this time at Jimmy.

“Bill is here because you invited him over to watch croquet,” Jimmy says, “and I'm here because Bill told me, and I didn't believe anyone would actually watch croquet on television. I thought he was putting one over on me, and made a friendly wager of twenty dollars that croquet was not even broadcast--”

“Ahem, speaking of which?” Bill says, hooking his thumb toward the television.

“Ah, yes. Very well, then.” Jimmy opens his messenger bag, removes his wallet, and places a twenty in Bill's outstretched hand.

“Yeah, well feel free to leave at anytime,” Lester says, still plucking Cheetos from the chair, “especially you, you... you pretentious ape. Why do you even talk like that? You're from Connecticut. You've never even been to England.”

Jimmy turns to Bill, and is obviously displeased with Lester's comment. Bill looks to Lester, shaking his head slightly. “Aw, c'mon man, don't be like that.”

“You two come to my house, say rude things to me, eat my Cheetos...”
“Lester, calm down. Why don't we all relax and just watch some croquet. Remember, you've been looking forward to it for weeks.” Bill smiles at Lester.

“Uh, um, OK. Just quit being jerks.”

“Sure. Whatever you say. Now, didn't you say you had some beer,” Bill says, “because these Cheetos are making me thirsty.”

“A Guinness for me, thanks,” Jimmy says, “and perhaps some popcorn, but not microwave popcorn. I eat stove top popcorn popped with coconut oil.”

Lester stares at Jimmy in seeming disbelief. Jimmy stares back.

“Shall I take that as to mean you only have the microwave variety?”
Lester's face turns red, and it becomes quite obvious he has had enough.

“GETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUTT!”

All three of their heads turn toward the hall as they hear the sound of the toilet flushing. Lopez, the alpaca, enters the living room, and places last month's issue of Rolling Stone on the coffee table.

“So, fellas... what'd I miss?”

"Cheeto Monkey"
Copyright: © 2010 Chris Bowsman
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Chris Bowsman lives in Springfield, Ohio with his wife, three sons, and a lot of books. He recently turned 30, and has gotten over most of the associated issues.