"What is it now genius?"
"Nothing in particular good buddy. I just thought you could tell me more about the dystopia. It's such an interesting subject," snickering under my breath.
"For some reason or another you seem to think this is funny," his voice rigid, "Like I said earlier moron, 'You will be the first guy to capitulate."
"Let's give dystopia a break and talk about something else for a while."
"What," he bellows obnoxiously.
"Let's talk about the Chiefs and there chances of running it back. They have twenty starters returning from last year. They're the odds on favorite to win it all again. Back to back good buddy. In all those years of frustration could you ever have imagined we'd be talking about the Chiefs going back to back. Chiefs motherfucker!"
He's a die hard fan so I figured a bit of Chiefs football talk would take his mine off dystopia for a few minutes...I figured wrong.
"Jesus Christ boy! You need to get woke!
"Oh great, here we go again," muttering before his obligatory 'woke' rant begins.
"Why the hell you're thinking about football is beyond me. The shit house is on fire with no end in sight and your main concern is if the Chiefs can win back to back Super Bowl titles."
"It would be cool," interrupting his tirade.
"Baaa, baaa, baaa, baaa - Do you know what that sound is boy?"
"No," anticipating an insult.
"It's the sound a sheep makes as it is being lead to slaughter. Get use to the sound, it will be common for you soon. I told you about my predator or prey theory. You will be part of the prey."
"You got to chill out will all your crazy talk Mad Max. It's beginning to alarm people."
"Predator or prey genius, predator or prey," he then hangs the phone up without saying goodbye.
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