>>> Primal Urges
By staff writer Nathan DeGraaf

November 22, 2007

Ben: Remember acid, dude?
Nick:
Vaguely.
Ben:
Remember vaguely, dude?
Nick:
Are you stoned?
Ben:
So what if I am? Does that make you better than me?
Nick:
Why would you even ask that?

Four young gentlemen, pupils dilated, cigarettes in hand, slowly walked up a hill to a 9-foot wall.

“Whoa,” said Nick. “Remember when we climbed that?”

“Those were the days,” said Jeff.

“Except it was like three hours ago,” said Chase.

“Coming down off this stuff takes the life out of you,” said Curt.

“No,” Nick said, “I don’t think so. I think it’s a matter of motivation. I mean I don’t think that any hallucinogen would actually increase our strength, no matter how hard the peak. No, I think we just don’t care to do it anymore because we’re simply tired. But we could. I mean, if we wanted to.”

“I always hated that tree killing fuck. That showed a lack of respect.”

“Then climb it,” said Curt.

“No fucking way.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not fun anymore. When we last climbed it, it was fun. We had all kinds of energy and we were like, ‘Yeah, let’s climb the fucker.’ It was a challenge and we were up to it, and now it’s nothing.”

“That’s not true,” said Jeff, who was sitting in the grass, using the huge wall to prop up his back.”

“It’s like The Giving Tree.”

“The kid’s book?” asked Nick.

“Yeah McGrath, the kid’s book. Remember how like, when the dude gets all old and there’s nothing else he can use the tree for, he sits on the stump?”

“Yeah,” said Curt. “I always hated that tree killing fuck. I mean, he fucking tore the tree down to a stump and then sat on it for good measure. I think that showed a lack of respect.”

“Respect? It’s a tree,” said Chase.

“It’s not even a tree. It’s a damn children’s book,” said Nick.

“Anyway,” said Jeff. “All I know is, when I was young and energetic back in the day—

“Three hours ago,” Chase offered.

“Yeah, back in the day three hours ago, this wall gave me something to do. What’d Nick call it? A challenge. And now it gives me something to lean up against. Which is important ‘cause I’m dog tired and jonesing for some grub so I need to conserve energy.”

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” said Curt.

“Bye Ole Buddy,” said Jeff as he patted the wall.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Nick asked.

“Excuse me for being sentimental.”

“I think it’s more like just mental.”

The four of them walked off into the woods, using their cigarette lighters to guide them through the dense forest.

In case you’re looking for it, this story has no moral.


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