Got a call around 8 pm from Jeff. He screamed something about free popcorn and the Holocaust and then slammed down the phone. I thought I should head over.
When I got there I saw Jeff, a grown man, dressed as a poplar tree (with a modest-sized cut-out through which his naked wang protruded) running around his front yard. He was sweating profusely and throwing dead batteries at kids who rode by on bikes. I rushed over and grabbed the Easter basket full of AAA’s from his hand. He got angry and called me a “fuck cloud” which struck me as neither an insult nor a compliment. I knocked him over the head with my shoe and rolled him into his fish pond to cool off.
He regained consciousness about 45 minutes later at which time he explained that he’d been smoking “shibby” with Edwin. Seems in between tokes he started drinking the liquid butane from his lighter and went berserk. He was able to whip up a Hollywood-quality tree costume in about 8 minutes using a broken sump pump and discarded kitchen refuse before storming outside. He apologized to me, but I told him he should probably apologize to the 4 bloodied up kids lying in the street. He said, “Fuck ’em” and I knew that my good old friend was back to normal.
I gathered my shoe and helped myself to some deck screws from his garage. He walked me down the driveway to my car. Suddenly he said, “Oh God. Adam drank a Texas milkshake. Doctor said he was never to drink Texas milkshakes!! I think he’s behind the neighbour’s house!!!” He then did a 180 and began to sprint across the yard to the side of his house. We came upon a sight I never thought I’d see: Adam Girdlestone heavily under the influence of what I would later learn was a combination of transmission fluid, hair gel and dollar store cologne. He had wedged himself into a child’s playhouse and was masturbating feverishly into a toy sink.
My gasps of horror were easily drowned out by his intense giggling. I couldn’t help but join in (giggling, not masturbating). I grabbed my camera and snapped a picture. Who would have guessed that the flash would send him into a violent rage. He jumped through the window of the toy house, tore the toy faucet from the toy counter and began to beat me with it without mercy. Jeff tried to intervene and Adam tossed him aside like an empty soda can. Luckily Edwin was still hanging out near the pond where he was screaming racial epithets at the goldfish. I yelled to him for help and he ran over and tackled Adam to the ground. They scratched and clawed at each other like hallucinating pumas in heat and I got the hell outta there.
I came home and gave my son a bath. I brushed my teeth and took a sip of water, then called it a night. Just another Monday night in Fort Erie…