07 May “Yeah–it’s interesting, yo”, I reply as I roll my eyes, “I mean–if you’re planning on burning the hotdogs, it makes sense.”
“Here, digital.Bilfty2.1”, I continue speaking as I hand him my coffee mug, “hold my coffee, yo.”
He grabs it; I grab the digital.grilling.fork.
“What you want to do, Bilfty2.1”, I explain as I turn the hotdogs over on the grill, “is slowly cook them on one side, and then flip them to cook them on the side. You can’t just be flipping them all around like a fucking maniac! You need to learn patience–good things, like food, come to those who wait their turn. What you want to do is wait until it is a darker shade of golden brown and the grill marks are on the frankfurter; then, wham–rotate them around to cook the other side. It holds the flavor better–you, just, need to learn these things, if you want to stay useful, around here.”
“It seems easy, yo”, he replies as he hands me back my coffee, “like… I don’t think that you need to make such a big deal of it.”
“Bilfty2.1”, I continue speaking as I shrug, “don’t fucking question my fucking hotdog grilling skills–I am a master of the weiner.”
“I don’t think that’s what you really meant to say, boss”, he replies as he looks back at the grill, “but… like, I kinda get your point.”
“It’s just”, I continue speaking as I turn my head to the grill, “that is matters–you can’t just half-cock cook hotdogs. You need to care–you need to be present. No one, in the history of forever, has wanted a burnt hotdog, Bilfty2.1.”
“I do!”, Bilta yells as he enters the back deck, “that’s the only way that I eat them, yo.”
I sigh; why’s he always make problems?
“Ok?”, I reply as I throw my arms up in the air, “go ahead Bilfty2.1–burn a couple hotdogs for Bilta. Fucking–whatever?”
“You cooking hamburgers, also?”, Bilta asks Bilfty2.1, “I just finished the macaroni salad–this is going to be fucking epic, yo.”
“No, Bilta”, Bilfty2.1 replies as he rotates a hotdog, “just cooking up these–should be plenty for all three of us.”
“I’m so excited!”, Bilta explains as he looks at the grill.
“No one cares”, I yell from my living room, “hey… the digital.polo match is starting in fifteen so hurry up, yo.”
Bilfty turns his head to Bilta.
“Sour grapes”, he explains to Bilta as he shrugs, “that’s what that is–jealous ruins many a pleasant afternoons.”
“Yeah”, Bilta replies as he rolls his eyes, “just try to do what he says–he pays the bills so you, kinda, just have to go with it. He is better after he’s had a soda and food–just try to keep him fed and it will be alright.”
“I hope so”, Bilfty replies as he rotates another hotdog on the grill.
The hotdog rolls off the grill and falls onto the ground.
Bilta and digital.Bilfty2.1 look at each other. Bilfty reaches down and picks it up off the digital.brick patio. He turns his head to Bilta.
“Should we tell him, yo?”
Bilta turns his head to the birdfeeder; turns his head back to Bilta.
“Let’s not”, he continues speaking as he turns his head back to the grill, “let’s, just, keep this between us.”