Suck It Up Page #5

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Don't zip it up.

Are you concuss--

Jesus!

Ah!

F*** it.

Damn it...

Okay, I got it,

i got it...

Okay, okay. Wait, wait,

Ronnie, Ronnie...

Ronnie, I just don't think

it's gonna happen, okay?

What? You got

like penile dysfunction?

No. It's just not f***ing

indestructible either.

- You and me, me and her.

Me and her.

The bathroom

is for bathroom activities.

--Is that you, red?

There's always room

for one more.

--Please...

Fantastic.

Faye, this is not

exactly what it looks like.

Ronnie...

This is for me from Garrett.

Who opened this?

Did you open it?

I can explain.

You can explain that Garrett

left me a f***ing letter

and you opened it?

Yes.

Okay.

Ronnie, wait.

How could you

do something like that?

I didn't think

you could handle it.

Oh, my god, you have no idea

-what I can f***ing handle.

-I'm sorry!

I earned that letter.

I know!

You were

a f***ing tourist!

So, tell me!

Tell me what I missed.

That is all I want.

How do you

remember him, faye, huh?

How do you remember him?

Do you remember him f***ing

picking you up from the beach

when you busted your knee?

Do you remember him,

i don't know,

asking you out to homecoming?

Do you remember him

taking your f***ing virginity?

Good for you, faye,

those are pretty pictures.

Me, oh, gosh, I remember...

Collar bones, and, and...

The sound of him

crying at night, and...

And mixing bowls

full of vomit and...

And, and how

he took up prayer, okay?

He kicked you out

for a reason, faye.

And I do not pity you.

I am so f***ing jealous of you.

You should be

ashamed of yourself.

Okay. I should be

ashamed of myself?

Jesus f***ing Christ.

Quit your pity party.

You had the chance

to talk to him.

And you didn't pick up.

What?

Yeah, I know.

And you know what else I know?

He didn't call you.

-What?

-Yeah.

I called you.

Why would you do that?

Because...

I thought that you would come.

I, like, really needed

you to come.

But, guess Garrett was right.

You couldn't handle it.

And he knew that.

Even at the end.

He didn't want you there!

Should we stop them?

I think they need this.

--Ooh!

Yo, what do you

wanna watch?

Twins?

Twins.

Hey, Ronnie?

Mm-hmm.

I couldn't open mine, so...

That's why I opened yours.

What's it say?

Ugh!

What a shithead!

It's the same.

Yeah, our names are different.

Do you think...

That these are the only words

he knew how to spell?

Probably.

"Anything you wanna say

before you die, Garrett?"

"You know what?

Let's just make it

a group text."

Yeah...

He wasn't really a wordy guy.

Guess nobody's perfect.

Yeah.

Not even close.

He like...

Could never really understand

people with accents.

Yeah, he was

a really bad tipper.

Oh, yeah. Low, low.

Embarrassingly bad.

He wasn't nice to old people.

Nope.

Mm-mmm.

He would never dance with me.

It's a crime.

He was ridiculous.

Sometimes he would come

into my room just to fart.

- Yes.

You do, too.

Ew! I do not.

Something

you have in common.

Every holiday, I got a gift

certificate from autozone.

Me too.

- What a jerk!

Man!

One time he hit a cat

and kept driving.

Oh, my god.

Yeah, that one's dark.

I'll keep it to myself.

Yeah.

Oh, he breast fed until he

was about four years old.

-What?

-Yup!

He only stopped

because I popped up.

Ew!

He cut me out of his life.

Yeah.

Well, he cut you out of mine.

Twins?

Do I have a choice?

Nope.

Mmm...

Thank you.

Garrett.

A portion of Garrett.

That's not all of him.

The rest of him

is back in calgary.

Dina scooped out

part of his ashes

and put it in this jar?

Like a snack.

These are her pickling jars.

I didn't

really think about it.

Portion of Garrett.

You sure about this?

Well, that's

one way to do it.

Ronnie!

I'm back! Let's hit it.

Granville brought it.

What is it? Uranus?

It's a quasi-stellar object.

Hey, Garrett.

I know I'm not

supposed to sit here, but...

The way I see it,

if you're really up there,

you can just make sure that

i don't crash and kill us.

This totally works, right?

And if you're not...

Well, you're not the boss

of me, you butt-face.

I can take care of myself.

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