Apparently, Dave is here to stay and I don’t like doing things in order?
Day 18: The floor tasted like peanut butter.
The floor tastes like peanut butter. That is the first thing that Dave realises. The second is that he’s on the floor. Being on the floor isn’t unusual, but being on the floor after being chased by a bunch of cartoonish villains is definitely new.
Dave is a mathematician by day and mathematician by night. While stereotypes about mathematicians are almost always wrong, Dave freely admits that he’s boring.
He has four of the same sweater. All of his jeans are black, with the exception being the yellow pair he bought before he realised that skinny jeans weren’t for him and they definitely were not appropriate for Sunday Service.
He still remembers his mother’s reaction clearly – that white girl you’re dating has got you turnt up – because he had to look up ‘turnt‘ on Urban Dictionary and sit through an episode of The Real before he could come up with the perfect response.
And even then, it was just a text that said: Lol.
Yeah, Dave isn’t big on words.
There’s a knock on the door and a scurry of feet before there’s silence again.
This is almost surreal but Dave can’t feel a single part of his body. And he’s refusing to even contemplate the thought that he might be dead. As far as he’s concerned, this is just a disturbingly vivid dream. Or some kind of magic mushroom induced hallucination. He’s good with either.
He’s just going to sit here and wonder why he licked the damn floor in the first place.