Scarewaves Page #3

he sent you.

Two-way split?

I already got one

with your husband.

I'd say that seals

the deal then.

Hey!

There's a lot more skanks

like you in the world

than there are

bags of money.

And I stopped letting

little Robbie

make executive decisions

a long time ago.

Not since middle school.

You bastard.

I'm probably gonna

regret that.

You're looking

pretty down for a guy

that just

got a bag of money.

You're gonna be

gone in the morning,

so don't worry about it.

Maybe I'll see you

at Christmas.

Sh*t...

I'll still be

in Bangkok

watching the ping pong

shows at Christmas.

Look, uh...

Your marriage

ain't my business.

Damn straight.

But your wife

just came to me

talking about

a two-way split.

What are you

talking about?

I don't know if she means

to snitch you out or kill you,

but I ain't having

any part of it.

That's some bullshit.

Blood is blood, cousin.

It's the way

it's always been.

I remember when

you were in the hospital

getting your

operation done,

there was, uh,

some real Bull Durham sh*t

going on with your teammates,

except a lot more

spit roasting.

(dog barking)

We gotta do

something about Robbie.

I'm even less

afraid of a bat

than you throwing

a ball at me.

Did you ever have a hit

in the major leagues?

I can't say

major leagues, can I?

The stadium

that you robbed...

you bottomed out.

What was it?

Single A?

Triple A?

It was one of those

battery sizes.

Triple A.

Right below

the majors.

Right below

the majors.

(grip tightens)

(screams)

Mitchell?

Hey buddy.

(exhausted sigh)

Oh, sh*t fire

and pray to Jesus!

You could've just

strangled her.

You are so dramatic.

Man, she's got an ass

like a dump truck.

How come I never

noticed this before?

There's a river

a ways through the woods.

So, lift with your legs.

All right.

Oh, uh, you got a little

something on you.

Oh.

One, two...

(splash)

Burial at sea.

Bye.

Well, do you suppose

her grandma's

got anything stronger

than wine up at the place?

I just need some sleep.

You sure do,

you had a hard day.

Look, you take

the guest room.

I'll take the couch.

(water bubbles up)

No!

(door creaking)

(panicked breathing)

Ava?

(exhales)

(shrieks)

Robbie?

Robbie!

(door creaking)

No!

No!

(gunshot)

We forgot the bat.

I threw it in

with her.

Thank you.

Thank you for

looking out for me.

Blood is blood.

Blood is blood.

I would've split it

with you, cousin.

But I don't have to.

I mean, it was

just an accident.

What the hell?

Where's my money?

(gunshot)

All that cold hard cash,

what would be going

through your head?

I guess in Mitchell's case

it was a bullet.

But don't let

the gruesome death

or tawdry sex

distract you

from the moral

of the story.

Never get married.

Even if your mom

likes her.

Well, my friends,

I have to go take

a little breaky-poo

so I can go

sharpen my teeth,

that's code word

for use the bathroom.

So, please enjoy

this song

as I go see a man

about a horse,

but don't go anywhere,

'cause I'm only really

just getting started

right here

on Scarewaves.

(muffled music)

Just do the show, brother.

(flushes)

I'm ba-ack!

Did you miss me?

Of course you did,

because I'm your main man,

your guide into the dark,

the cult of personality

himself,

Amos Satan,

back to continue

this very special episode

of Scarewaves.

You know, you would think

that I've seen it all,

and that I've become

pretty desensitized

to all things

that go bump in the night,

but that isn't always

necessarily the case.

I actually spooked

myself a little bit

as I was walking

through the empty hallways

of the station

to make my way

to the little boys room.

A walk I've made

so many times

can feel so different

when there's just

something off.

Call it a feeling

in your guts, if you will,

and I will.

It seems to me that

people are the most on edge

when they're convinced

in the back of their minds

that someone or something

is coming for them.

Most of the time

this can be something

really simple like

a boss harping on you

over a deadline,

or a spouse demanding

that you make a decision

on whether or not

to trade in the Lexus.

But what if the thing

that was coming for you

wasn't something

you could avoid

just by hiding

in the bathroom

and listening to your iPod?

What if you were hiding

from yourself?

From the past?

Part of you?

Where could you go?

Where could you hide?

This is exactly

what the man

in my next story

had to figure out.

He too has a past

he's trying to hide from,

and a new job in a dark office

building, naturally.

Let's call this story

"Office Case."

Do you know why

you're here today,

Officer Easterly?

Yeah, it'd be kinda hard

not to know why.

The office

is very concerned

by this latest incident.

Now, my job here today

is simple:

I'm gonna lay out

the facts

as I have them

in the file,

then I'm gonna get

your story.

Do you have any questions

before we begin?

Yeah.

You have a cigarette?

I'm sorry,

there's no smoking

in this building,

Officer Easterly.

All those pesky

rules and regulations,

you know?

You have some kind

of problem with me, pal?

I'm just doing

my job, Easterly.

But then you know all about

that defense, don't you?

I was wondering

if you were gonna show up.

Had a flat tire.

I'm only three minutes late.

Have you had a tour

of the building yet?

Yeah, the HR girl

did one for me.

Great!

I've got places to be.

How often do you do

your walk-throughs?

I'm gonna have

to plead the fifth on that one.

So, what kind of issues

have they had around here?

Ah, your usual stuff.

Uh, kids who think

it's a thrill

to break in after hours,

very rare burglar,

and if you're lucky,

the occasional couple

who comes in

to get it on!

And your response

to that?

Focus adjust

on the security camera,

there's popcorn

in the vending machines.

Look, it's an easy gig.

You do your walk-throughs

as often

or as little as you like.

As long as nothing happens,

no one's gonna

check up on you.

So, why is it

so dark around here?

Ah, the building owners

are a couple

of those green nuts.

The lights automatically

turn off at 6pm every evening

except for the main hallway,

which doesn't turn off

till 11:
30

unless someone's

working late.

We're working late.

I guess we're not someone.

What if there's

an emergency?

Well, maintenance

can turn the power on,

but they like having

that power,

and I think they enjoy

f***ing with us.

What kind of weapon

do you use on duty?

Why?

Are you gonna

shoot maintenance?

Are you planning a coup?

Jesus, you're uptight.

I need to show you

where the lawyers

on the third floor

keep their pot.

Look, I don't carry one,

but if it makes you

feel better, you can.

It's BYOG around here.

All right, tough guy.

Here's your flashlight.

Here are your keys.

Try not to shoot anyone.

What's that supposed to mean?

I watch the news, okay?

All those scumbags you axed

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