text: Craig woke up, shitfaced. The couch cushion had spread his drool up the side of his face. Capillary action, that’s called. “Fuck you, Jeremy,” Craig said in a drunken stupor. Craig’s friend Jeremy had spoken at length about capillary action when they were drinking earlier, he was always talking about his science shit. But Jeremy was nowhere to be seen. Craig was alone in his apartment, butt ass naked. He peeled himself off the leather couch like wet bologna. He was having trouble finding his balance and kicked the shit out of his coffee table by accident. Like thirteen beer bottles toppled over in a clinky symphony. *Must escape,* Craig thought. *Must escape living room. Must navigate to bathroom. Must piss.* The bathroom was right next to the living room which was super handy. Craig contemplated the mess he was about to make and wondered if he should just piss in the shower. He decided to lift the seat on the toilet and try it the civilized way. Piss flew everywhere as expected. Craig didn’t know what to do with his hands because he didn’t have to use them to hold his pants. He just kind of let them hang there. He did his best to aim but he also didn’t want to fall over. Craig’s nuts were stuck to his leg so he tried to kind of squat to get them unstuck. While half squatting and being super relaxed from the pee, something landed on the floor behind him with a soft plop. “Oh poop,” Craig said, fearing the worst. He turned to see his dog, Smart laying behind him instead of his own poop, so that’s good. “Oh poop,” Craig said, remembering the pee he was getting everywhere and thinking he would get pee dog. “Warglabemaheh!” Craig exclaimed to make the dog flee. Smart didn’t look too good. He was panting and he smelled bad. Craig finished peeing and immediately forgot to flush. He turned and kneeled down and pushed Smart out of the bathroom like heavy groceries. Smart was clammy and clearly messed up. Craig worried about what he’d have to do if his dog died right there. Would he have to call the cops? It was at this moment that Craig’s phone started ringing. He knew he wouldn’t be able to find it in time, much less answer it. He certainly couldn’t talk to them while he was naked. The kitchen was dark and had no goddamn food in it. Craig made his way to the freezer to get a thingy for Smart. In the middle of the floor were what might have been Craig’s pants. Also in the middle of the floor was Craig. He fell. On the pants. The phone started ringing again. “Fuck you, Jeremy,” Craig said again because it was probably Jeremy. The floor was cool and felt nice when Craig scrooched on it. The freezer didn’t have anything in it to make Smart feel better but there were a bunch of gross Snapples in the fridge so he grabbed those. Back in a pile on the floor was Smart, looking bad. Craig just kind of looked at his dog, wanting to help but also not sure how to do anything. Craig cursed himself for getting so drunk. He wondered if he could be like, angry at beer. Using his boy scout skills, Craig used the Snapple bottles to build a teepee fire log setup around the dog to keep him cool. Smart didn’t seem to notice and all the bottles rolled off because he was breathing. Craig looked around the apartment, trying to see what Smart’s dumb ass could have gotten into. A lot of stuff actually. Craig was starting to feel itchy because he had no clothes on. There was a blanket on the couch so he accidentally kicked the shit out of the damn coffee table again trying to get over to it. There was a weird noise as he slung the blanket around his shoulders. It was like Smart let out a huge fart. “Not on the Snapple you little basta-” Craig began to say but then- BOOM! Smart exploded. Fucking everywhere. Craig did not have the reflexes in his current drunken state to avoid the doggie soup that came flying at him from across the room. He took a piece full in the face, making his face hurt. “God whathufuck?” said Craig, on the floor again. The dog-splosion didn’t make a lot of noise which was weird. It was more like if you like, smooshed an egg but like one that wasn’t hard? Like it’d still be squishy on the inside but not crispy outside. Also it wouldn’t be too hard to squish. Not like a balloon, that’d be too loud and fast. Like a slow egg but still strong. There was a GLURP noise from the wall with the fish tank. Then there was a little splash on Craig’s head. Craig could see the fish tank and the water was all wobbly. *Aww fuck. The Stupid Blue Fish just exploded.* It was true. The Stupid Blue Fish just exploded. Its little fish parts were sinking to the bottom of the tank and The Stupid Yellow Fish and The Only Goldfish that Survived from the Fair were floating belly up on the surface. Then they both exploded and Craig got showered with fish water again. Craig had to pee so bad again and he was kind of like “fuck it, I’ll just go right here,” but at this point he was getting a little scared because his pets exploded. That’s when the phone rang again. From the floor in front of the couch, wrapped up in blankets with his dick out, Craig reached into the spitty couch cushion and found his phone. “Goddammit Jeremy what do you want I need new fish now!” Craig tried to say. It is unclear whether he actually said that or if he just mumbled. “Craig? I need you to pick me up and take me to the hospital. I don’t feel so good.” Jeremy sounded like shit. “I can’t you’re drunk,” Craig reminded him. “Is Charlotte still there? She went back to your place, can she give me a ride?” This revelation was scary to Craig. His dick was out. Charlotte was a girl. So there might be a girl there while he had his dick out. “I don’t know. Where is she?” asked Craig. “Just please man, I need a doctor.” “Mmmmmmm,” went Craig, making it sound like he was thinking but he really just wanted Jeremy to figure something else out, making it sound like Jeremy was asking way too much and that, ya know, he wanted to help him out but it was gonna be a whole thing and- KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. Someone was banging on the window. Craig covered his dick. Charlotte was standing outside the window and she exploded. Now that Craig got a good look at the explosion, he could describe it a little better. Think of like a watermelon that just got smacked with a sledgehammer. There used to be a standup comedian called Gallagher who did his show and he’d be always smashing watermelons. Anyway, the watermelon Charlotte just kind of schmeared its way up the window, didn’t even break it or anything. And it had this kind of upward motion like the watermelon got hit with a golf club. All this time Craig was screaming and crying, but he somehow managed to not piss himself. “Did Charlotte just explode?” asked Jeremy over the phone. Craig replied with a crying “uh huh.” “Aww fuck man. That means-” BOOM. Jeremy just exploded over the phone. Craig was lying there on his back, dick out again, in front of the couch but scrunched in between the coffee table, crying. “Aww man, why’s this happening? I’m gonna go boom.” Craig put his arm over his eyes to block the light. It was weirdly silent in his apartment now that all his friends weren’t blowing up. How was he gonna live now? How was he supposed to go outside? How was he gonna eat? *Eat?* That’s when Craig remembered. They had eaten something. Craig tried to remember what had happened when they were all drinking. He might have been kind of stupid regardless of the drunkenness so it could be kind of hard to burritos. *The goddamn burritos!* *I blew my people up cuz burritos!* *Must piss!* Craig knocked pretty much everything off the coffee table trying to get up from in front of the couch but he did it. He decided in advance he was going to piss in the shower so he came into the bathroom firing on all cylinders. Absolutely none of his pee made it in the shower because the curtain but it didn’t matter, Craig was gonna fix this. Back in the kitchen, Craig plowed face first into the wall in the general vicinity of the lightswitch. It had the desired effect, that being the lights turned on. The kitchen table was there, covered in mail and burrito scraps. Craig’s pants were on the floor. *The fever. You’ll have to stop the fever.* Things were starting to make more pants now. *I’m naked because of the fever.* The phone started ringing again in the living room. Looking at the number, Craig didn’t know it. He also didn’t know anyone’s numbers anymore. He remembered Tom’s from like fifth grade but that was his Tom’s mom’s house. But he still knew it. All this time, Craig was staring at his phone, kind of drooling. It stopped ringing. There was an annoying siren sound getting louder outside. A text message came through to Craig’s phone. “Is it done?” it said. Craig was worried. *It? What it?* *Done? What done? What am I done?* At that moment Craig’s front door kicked itself in. He screamed. Men in scary clothes started pouring into his apartment with shovels. “There’s the mark. His dick’s out boys!” One of the shovel-bearers was directing the others around to the various piles of buddies around Craig’s apartment. There were two more outside squeegee-ing Charlotte’s ass off the front window. Craig put up karate hands but they couldn’t stop the shovel-man from tackling the Christ out of him. The rug burn brought them to a stop on the floor, staring into each other’s eyes. “Ya did good kid,” said the Shovel Man from behind a respirator. He pulled out an adorable little flashlight and shined it in Craig’s eyes. “Poopy response looks good guys!” “Darryl get off him!” yelled another Shovel Guy whilst shoveling Smart into a Home Depot bucket. “Yea Darryl. Leave him for the doctor.” A different Shovel Man was using a tiny net to get fish bits out of the tank. At that moment, a Shovel Man without a shovel walked in the door. He was wearing a lab coat backwards like a Snuggie. “Darryl how many times do I have to tell you?” said the Snuggie Shovel Man. Darryl kind of giggled and rolled off Craig. “Poopy response looks good, boss,” said Darryl, patting Snuggie Man on the shoulder as he passed. Craig was confused at why Darryl was saying poopy response. A little shit *did* come out but not like a whole poopy or anything. “Sounds great son, thank you.” Snuggie Man was standing over Craig. “Ya did good kid.” “Darryl said that too,” said Craig. “Did good kid.” “Did good kid.” Everyone started saying it affirmatively, looking up from their shovels for a second before going back to shoveling. *Why are they congratulating me?* Craig was afraid to move. Snuggie Man crouched down next to him and made a side glance toward Craig’s wang before looking back to his eyes. “The fever will subside soon. Good job with the clothes. We’re gonna take you back while we clean this all up.” Snuggie Man gave Craig little positive reinforcement slaps on the face. “You’re gonna forget all about this if you haven’t already.” He looked over to the window. “I’m sorry about the girl too.” *Oh my god. Oh my god. How do I have to pee AGAIN.* Snuggie Man reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe. Craig’s mind was starting to clear. Something was starting to come back to him. *I was supposed to feed them. But why did I-* There was a pressure in Craig’s neck and the walls started floating up for a second. It got hot all the sudden and Craig reached upward. Snuggie Man put his hand on Craig’s chest and pushed him to the floor. It was getting darker. Craig’s head rolled around to see more Shovel Men coming in with a stretcher. He was lifting off the ground but Snuggie still had his hand on him. *How... how... why... what did they make me do?* And then it all went black.