Earlier that evening with Maureen Lassiter
I’m relieved Sam is OK, but I'm worried about Phil. He was too quiet during our discussion and when he did speak, it seemed like he was trying to hold in an explosion.
"Honey, I could tell you were angry while the Caines were here. I hope you won't do anything rash when Sam gets home."
"Angry? How about fucking pissed off that my son turned out being a poof. I almost wish he DID run away."
"Phil, you can't really mean that."
"No
Virgil
Don't cry. Don't cry. Please don't cry.
"Mooo-oom!"
"Yes dear, what is it?"
I start to lose it. This is what I tried to say, I hoped it was understandable through the tears.
"Sam didn't get home. I think he ran away."
"Sam's missing?"
"Yeah"
"Oh, I'm sure there's some explanation. Is that Mr. or Mrs. Lassiter?"
I didn't even realize I was still holding the phone.
"Y-yeah, Mr."
"Let me talk to him please."
I hand over the phone an
I feel like a traffic light at an intersection near the super bowl. Pedestrians keep hitting the walk button so many times I don't know which side needs to be green anymore.
What the hell am I saying? I am a traffic light at an intersection near the super bowl. Okay, last year’s Super Bowl, but whatever.
My name is Ryg, pronounced Rig. I guess my name is really an acronym, Red/Yellow/Green. So maybe my name is Red. I don’t know. It’s better than Gyr I guess. That sounds like a growl.
Another anthropomorphic story from the deranged mind of Lee Wilson. This time it’s a traffic light who happens to be one block away from where the Super Bowl was recently held. What havoc might be caused by Ryg?
Clint definitely needs to learn discretion. He might say something at the wrong time around the wrong people. And if Daniel doesn’t like it, it’ll be a Backstreet Boys song - Bye Bye Bye
To quote The Crazy World of Arthur Brown
I am the god of hellfire! And I bring you
Fire, I'll take you to burn
Fire, I'll take you to learn
I'll see you burn