Paralyzed from the waist down.”
“Dwarf,” I say. “They can still have sex. Would you rather be retarded or weigh four hundred pounds?”
“That’s stupid,” Katie says. “I’d just go on a diet.” She shuts off the TV and gives me a wicked smile. “Would you rather shoot a puppy or masturbate in front of your mother?”
“Jesus, Katie,” I say, and Neil laughs.
It’s a sick game, and deep down we know it, but there is something undeniably enticing about seeing how far we will go, how low we will sink, before one of us cries mercy.
“We should take the game public,” Katie says.
Neil and I laugh.
“I’m serious,” she says. “We should put up anonymous signs around school, each one with a different question on it.”
“Yeah, right,” I say.
“I’m not talking about any of the really bad questions. Just a few of the more harmless ones spread around the school. You know, get people talking about something interesting for a change.”
“It would be funny,” Neil says. I can see he is starting to embrace the idea.
“Are you both crazy?” I look from one to the other. “Are you both certifiably insane? We could get in serious trouble.”
“Nobody would know it was us,” Katie says.
“Of course they would!” I yell.
“Whoa, chill the fuck out,” Katie says.
“Yeah, how would anyone know?” Neil asks.
“How?” I say incredulously. “I don’t know how. But one of us would end up doing something stupid.”
“I’ll bet you ten dollars we don’t get caught,” Katie says.
“Oh my God, that is such a bet,” I say, sticking out my hand.
This is why my life is so disastrous. If Katie had said to me, I’ll give you ten dollars to help me put up these sick and twisted signs in school, I would have said that ten dollars isn’t worth living each day in terror of being exposed. Ten dollars isn’t worth overhearing the conversations in the hall about what kind of sick, perverted minds would put up such disgusting signs. Ten dollars isn’t worth being called out of class one day with everybody staring and whispering, and being taken to the principal’s office and finding my parents already there. Ten dollars isn’t worth being put in therapy and listening to my parents blame each other for my problems. But now, because Katie bet me ten dollars, I am making signs and planning strategy of where and when to hang them.
Katie comes up with the first one and insists we tape it up in the boys’ bathroom. It says: WOULD YOU RATHER SPEND ONE DAY IN SCHOOL WITH UNCONTROLLABLE GAS OR WITH A PERMANENT ERECTION ? The second one we tape outside the cafeteria. It says: WOULD YOU RATHER EAT A FULL PLATE OF YOUR BEST FRIEND’S BOOGERS OR DRINK A FULL GLASS OF A CHAIN-SMOKER’S SPIT ? The third one we tape across from the main bank of lockers. It says: WOULD YOU RATHER SPEND A WEEK IN JAIL OR FRENCH-KISS YOUR GRANDMOTHER ? On the bottom of each poster, we write: THE WORST-CASE SCENARIO GAME: FUN FOR THE WHOLE FAMILY.
The next day, the school is abuzz. The posters have been discovered and taken down, but not before enough students have seen one or more of them and spread the word. At lunch, everybody seems to be talking about it, and at one table we see students picking their noses and spitting into glasses.
“This is so awesome,” Neil says to me between classes. “I can’t wait to put up some more.”
“We’ve got to be careful,” I say. “Now they’ll be on the lookout.”
We decide to lie low for a day or two, though it takes tremendous self-restraint. Katie, in particular, is itching to put up more signs, and I realize that I have never seen her so enthusiastic about anything before.
“This is so fucking awesome,” she says as we stand by the lockers after school. “Next time we’ve got to figure out a way to put up posters that won’t get torn down so quickly.”
“Krazy Glue,” Neil says.
I shake my head. “You’re insane.”
“Do you have a better
“Dwarf,” I say. “They can still have sex. Would you rather be retarded or weigh four hundred pounds?”
“That’s stupid,” Katie says. “I’d just go on a diet.” She shuts off the TV and gives me a wicked smile. “Would you rather shoot a puppy or masturbate in front of your mother?”
“Jesus, Katie,” I say, and Neil laughs.
It’s a sick game, and deep down we know it, but there is something undeniably enticing about seeing how far we will go, how low we will sink, before one of us cries mercy.
“We should take the game public,” Katie says.
Neil and I laugh.
“I’m serious,” she says. “We should put up anonymous signs around school, each one with a different question on it.”
“Yeah, right,” I say.
“I’m not talking about any of the really bad questions. Just a few of the more harmless ones spread around the school. You know, get people talking about something interesting for a change.”
“It would be funny,” Neil says. I can see he is starting to embrace the idea.
“Are you both crazy?” I look from one to the other. “Are you both certifiably insane? We could get in serious trouble.”
“Nobody would know it was us,” Katie says.
“Of course they would!” I yell.
“Whoa, chill the fuck out,” Katie says.
“Yeah, how would anyone know?” Neil asks.
“How?” I say incredulously. “I don’t know how. But one of us would end up doing something stupid.”
“I’ll bet you ten dollars we don’t get caught,” Katie says.
“Oh my God, that is such a bet,” I say, sticking out my hand.
This is why my life is so disastrous. If Katie had said to me, I’ll give you ten dollars to help me put up these sick and twisted signs in school, I would have said that ten dollars isn’t worth living each day in terror of being exposed. Ten dollars isn’t worth overhearing the conversations in the hall about what kind of sick, perverted minds would put up such disgusting signs. Ten dollars isn’t worth being called out of class one day with everybody staring and whispering, and being taken to the principal’s office and finding my parents already there. Ten dollars isn’t worth being put in therapy and listening to my parents blame each other for my problems. But now, because Katie bet me ten dollars, I am making signs and planning strategy of where and when to hang them.
Katie comes up with the first one and insists we tape it up in the boys’ bathroom. It says: WOULD YOU RATHER SPEND ONE DAY IN SCHOOL WITH UNCONTROLLABLE GAS OR WITH A PERMANENT ERECTION ? The second one we tape outside the cafeteria. It says: WOULD YOU RATHER EAT A FULL PLATE OF YOUR BEST FRIEND’S BOOGERS OR DRINK A FULL GLASS OF A CHAIN-SMOKER’S SPIT ? The third one we tape across from the main bank of lockers. It says: WOULD YOU RATHER SPEND A WEEK IN JAIL OR FRENCH-KISS YOUR GRANDMOTHER ? On the bottom of each poster, we write: THE WORST-CASE SCENARIO GAME: FUN FOR THE WHOLE FAMILY.
The next day, the school is abuzz. The posters have been discovered and taken down, but not before enough students have seen one or more of them and spread the word. At lunch, everybody seems to be talking about it, and at one table we see students picking their noses and spitting into glasses.
“This is so awesome,” Neil says to me between classes. “I can’t wait to put up some more.”
“We’ve got to be careful,” I say. “Now they’ll be on the lookout.”
We decide to lie low for a day or two, though it takes tremendous self-restraint. Katie, in particular, is itching to put up more signs, and I realize that I have never seen her so enthusiastic about anything before.
“This is so fucking awesome,” she says as we stand by the lockers after school. “Next time we’ve got to figure out a way to put up posters that won’t get torn down so quickly.”
“Krazy Glue,” Neil says.
I shake my head. “You’re insane.”
“Do you have a better
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