"We're going to put a brief moratorium on dumb press conferences", I explain to Bilta, "also--I'm punching you in the face, yo." » Y G H M®: the stories, yo
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“We’re going to put a brief moratorium on dumb press conferences”, I explain to Bilta, “also–I’m punching you in the face, yo.”

“We’re going to put a brief moratorium on dumb press conferences”, I explain to Bilta, “also–I’m punching you in the face, yo.”

“But, why, boss?”, Bilta replies as he puts down his platter of food, “I, just, think that you don’t need to listen to the digital.TV so loud.”

“Bilta–you’re so one-track minded.  Get your head out of the gutter–try to consider other things, besides the volume on the show.  You need to really think if eating seven hotdogs is being responsible.  You have a gluten allergy–you are going to get sick.”

“It’s just one time–I can indulge, at times, and be alright.”

“Your premise is correct”, I continue as I roll my eyes, “but, still, you are used to feeling bad–that is your default, go to, feeling.  When you feel good, you want to change it–learn to let go of self-defeating behaviors.  Instead, understand that it is ok to be fine–like, it’s not a crime to feel good.  Do you understand this, yo?”

“I get what you are saying”, Bilta continues speaking as he picks up his digital.plate of hotdogs, “but, I want to see how many I can eat.”

“Don’t be that velociraptor–learn moderation.”

“I will moderate Bilta”, digital.Bilfty2.1 starts speaking, “with a wicked five finger fist of fire in his face.”

I roll my eyes; Bilta rolls his eyes; Bilfty looks around my living room.

“Did I miss something, yo?”, he continues speaking as he turns his head to me, “I thought that we were in to punching each other in the face?”

“We don’t do that anymore, Bilfty”, I shrug as I pick up my plate of food off my sofa, “now, we are respectable gentlemen.”

“I’m a velociraptor”, Bilta yells.

I sigh; what’s wrong with these idiots, yo.

I lean forward and pick up the digital.remote for the TV; I turn up the volume.

“Let’s just try to enjoy the polo match, assholes”, I explain as I put my feet up on the small wooden table.

I let out a sigh; the rider on the horse hits the ball with his stick.

“Hey Bilta”, I continue speaking as I turn my head to him, “what do you call that thing that polo players use to hit the ball?”

“It’s going to be your face, if you keep asking stupid questions”, he replies as he shrugs.

“Digital.Bilfty2.1–you know? You’re supposed to be the genius with abnormal intelligence?”

“It’s actually unusual, not abnormal, boss”, he replies as he takes a bite of his hotdog, “but, no, actually… I have no clue.  Is it a wicket?”

“It’s a fucking wicket game of polo”, Bilta yells as he grabs another hotdog off his plate.

“You’re a fucking savage, Bilta”, I reply as I shrug, “do you have any manners? How do you survive in public? Do you act this rude and impolite all the time?”

“No”, he replies as he shoves the food in his mouth, “I, just, make special exceptions when I am hanging out with you two.”

“You don’t have to change your behavior when you are around us, yo.”

“Be more like me”, Bilfty replies as he sets his platter on the table, “who has two thumbs and is a master of being awesome? This velociraptor right here, yo.”

He points to himself.

“That’s not even how you do the joke”, I reply to Bilfty as I roll my eyes, “but, at least, for once, you are, kinda, trying.”



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