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Neil's House
(Part 2 of 2)
Written Spring, 1994
Slightly revised 4/23/97

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That boy sure is a dancin' fool!

Before you read this, you should really read
Neil's House Part 1
When last we left our friends, the three dudes were leaving the room while Neil and Jess were about to "get down". Now back to the action!

The three of us walk down the stairs with Neil’s stereo, our ‘prize’ for the evening.

"Seems Neil isn’t so stupid after all" Cory spits. That sucker is getting a lot more than we ever planned on getting.

"Shit, he doesn’t know what to do at all. I feel bad for ME not him. I should be up there giving HER a lesson in the ways of waterbeds" I say to myself more than anyone. At least we have the stereo, maybe if we play it loud, people driving by will hear it and just come in.

"Crank it!" Chris yells as we finish hooking up the speakers. Nothing like loud tunes to get you back into a good mood.

"Mmmm, do you like my body, Neil?" Jess is slowing unbuttoning her shirt revealing silky thin shoulders and a red lace bra. She slithers out of the white shirt, never taking her eyes off of Neil.

"gaa...."

"Would you like me to take off your shirt?" she whispers soothingly. She slides her hands underneath Neil’s baggy black shirt and feels his firm stomach.

"Ooohhh I like that, Neil" She moves her hands around his waist and pulls him close. Neil, unable to speak much less walk, falls to the floor on his knees. She then wraps her arms around Neil’s head and draws his face in towards her chest. She closes her clear blue eyes and tilts her head back, moaning softly...

12:30 a.m.

"Christ, thank God the "Beavis and Butthead" telethon is on. He’s been up there for a couple hours now." Chris notes.

We’d been downstairs for a while listening to the captured stereo and mindlessly flipping through channels on cable.

"No shit, I’m starved. Neil is the worst host. Let’s raid his fridge."

We find very little palatable food to eat, but decide that a outdated frozen pizza and 17 cans of Mountain Dew are sufficient. Cory, looking for toys more than food, pulls out two eggs. Trouble brewing.

"All right, here’s a good game. Matt, take this egg. Now we’ll go in the living room and stand next to each other. On the count of three, we’ll toss both eggs. Then after we catch them, we’ll each take a step back and do it again. Each toss we will be a little farther away."

Cory had such an innocent way of explaining his games that you never questioned any of the rules--and they all made so much sense at this time of the night. Anything to stay amused; this was finally something to do!

"Cool, I’ll flash the lights quickly to make it funner," Chris offers, quite willing to get involved. We all have important roles in our activities.

With the strobe lighting in full effect, Cory is a blur. By the time we are at the third toss, we are clear across the dining room and living room. At this point, nailing him with an egg is just what I need to boost my sour mood.

"Ready? 1...2......3 !!"

Unfortunately, with the lighting so screwy, aim was a problem. My egg slammed into one of the little potpourri baskets showering the room with the fresh flakes. Cory didn’t even bother to try to throw the egg in a catchable manner. He just whipped it at me as hard as he could, missing my head by only a few inches. The egg splattered hard against the thermostat on the wall, giving me a brilliant idea.

"Nice shot, asshole, yer lucky you didn’t hit me. Oh by the way,.... do you fellows find it a bit cold in here?" All of us knew that Neil’s room was always very warm and he kept the heat as low as possible so he wouldn’t roast. "How does 94 degrees sound?" The selective audience approved with vigor. Satisfied, we went back into the kitchen to look for more entertaining things to do.

"That was cool! What else does Neil have to whip around?"

These food games continued with "cheese tag," "bologna wars," and the ever famous "banana moshing contest," all causing a nasty mess. None of us realized or cared exactly what we were doing. We were just egging (sorry) each other on in an all out food wasting competition. This was our proving ground; this is where we would show each other how strange we could really get. Always trying to ‘out do’ the other. Tonight we just happened to be making a large mess doing it... ...but cleaning this up was out of the question. We were being treated poorly, so we were entitled to this retribution.

2:00 a.m.

"Man, late night cable is awful" We were all sitting around the TV contemplating our next move. We were bored again.

"Ya know what’s worse than Neil being upstairs this whole time?" Cory asks. "This pizza we’ve been eating for 2 hours. It totally sucks."

"Ya know what’s worse than this pizza we’ve been eating for 2 hours?" I say, with another game forming. "This pizza smeared all over this crappy, late-night-cable-spewing-TV!" I begin to hurl cold, half-eaten parts of the remaining pizza at the screen.

"You know what’s worse than that?" Chris challenges. "Crappy pizza stomped upside-down into the carpet!!" This continued for some time with pizza ending up going everywhere Neil’s mother couldn’t reach to clean.

"Wait!" I yell, after attaching a piece of pepperoni to a light switch. "Why are we wasting all our energy on wrecking things down here? Without Neil around, it is way too easy to wreck his house. I think he should be reprimanded for being so irresponsible and leaving us down here alone."

"Yeah!" Cory yells "I think it’s time we get organized and just kick Neil’s ass!" Given the time frame, this made so much sense. If we had only thought of this 3 hours earlier.

While all our previous games were fairly innovative, they paled in comparison to our next move: The infamous "3 o’clock strike". We rounded up the last of the food we hadn’t disposed of in earlier contests and made our plan. Cookies, water and Pringles were what we had to work with. Chris carefully poured a full, 20 oz glass of water into a tray of cookies turning them into a soupy mess. He then refilled the glass and stood ready with a big smirk on his face. I smashed up the Pringles and put them back in the canister, adding some ketchup for color. Cory looked at his soggy cookie mish-mash that Chris had created and announced he was more than ready. Our three minds together were acting as one and growing into something that was well beyond ‘bad taste’ even by our old standards. Putting this little scheme together reminded me of the ‘good old days’....

<begin Fuzzy Flashback Sequence>

I remember ringing Neil’s doorbell and pelting him with snowballs whenever he answered.

I remember helping Neil put his mom's new Nordic Trac together all wrong just so I could watch Neil kill himself when he tried to show his mom that he could really make it work.

I remember just sitting and listening to music, talking about the future of Pearl Jam and why all Gen-X slackers would all end up killing themselves. And how exactly Eddie would lead them.

I remember watching late night Cinemax, looking for boobies.

I remember staying up all night and finally falling asleep the next morning, only to reawaken mid-day finding myself sleeping in the trash on Neil’s floor.

I remember all these things, how stupid and trivial they may sound. With us all getting older, would they continue? Could we still be able to get together like this all the time? For some reason everything felt different....

<end Fuzzy Flashback Sequence>

"He’s drunk! How does he know where we are going?... Say! It’s 2:45, do you know where your weenie is? huh huh huh...." Cory snapped me out of my daze. Both he and Chris were staring at me, laughing at how weird I was acting.

"Sorry guys, I bugged out for a second there... its getting kind of late" I say, trying to make excuses.

"Late my ass!" Chris stated. "We’ve got some work to do! The night is still young!" These two were not ones to dwell in the past, they lived for today. And if tomorrow was a day that was meant to happen, then they would worry about that tomorrow... This was still Friday night at Neil’s, and we did have work to do.

3:00 a.m.

We crept up the stairs very carefully. We hadn’t heard from or seen Neil in hours. Chris was giggling so much that he was spilling his water all over the wood stairs. Cory was so eager that I thought he was going to test his weapon on me. As we neared the door, we felt hot air streaming from his room. It was way over 90 degrees in there. This started us laughing so much that holding it in hurt a lot. I cautiously listened at the door, but heard nothing but the low mutter of the TV. Painstakingly, I pried the door open a crack to reveal that the lights were off. Only the light from the TV revealed the sight. Both of them lay on either ends of the bed, sleeping soundly, fully clothed.

"We give the bastard over 4 hours with her and he falls asleep." I whisper hoarsely to Cory. Quite perturbed, I raise my foot and release a thunderous kick that flings open the door and slams the doorknob into the back wall making a big indentation and an even bigger noise.

Both of them stir, but not enough to wake them. I start to think again as I hesitate before going into the room....

"Thanks pal! That rocks! This picture will go so well with the rest of my report! I’m totally guaranteed an ‘A’ now!" "Don’t mention it" Neil smiles, "You’d do the same for me"

You’d do the same for me... Neil was always so nice to me. What the heck are we about to do? Why are we going to throw Pringles, lots of water, and soggy cookies on these two sleeping people?? Up until now, everything we did was fairly harmless. Is this going to far? Did they really do anything to deserve this? Can’t we just yell a lot and wake them up? Can’t we just turn the lights on and heckle them to death? Must we always 'outdo' each other?

"Would you quit with that look already!" Cory hisses. Although their looks are both saying ‘go’ I know that Chris and Cory must be a little hesitant. They must be thinking about it too. They both look at me for the final word, when finally, I make my decision based on simple logic: The three of us combined are a machine of doom. We have aroused the machine so much that stopping now will result with one hell of a set of blue-balls. We can’t quit before our biggest caper. No words need to be spoken. Cory looks at me and I run in and shut off the TV. Commence 3 o’ clock strike.

3:01 a.m.

After a splash, a splat, and a bellar of "You Fuckers!", we fly down the dark stairs laughing so hard we almost puke. Cory is rolling on the living room floor unable to control his fit of laughter. Chris and I are almost crying as we tell each other how good we got them both. Then we are frozen mid-sentence.

From upstairs in the 90 degree, wet, cookie laden room comes a scream so evil, I wasn’t sure if Neil had summoned a demon or just killed Jess as a warm-up for us. The three of us look at each other in raw terror and sprint through the kitchen into the bathroom. As we slam the door, we hear Neil’s continuous war cry:

"EEEEYAAAAAAAWUP--- <WOOOM>

"Wow, that sounded really bad..." Chris whispers to me, more nervously than before.

"Whoa, it seems Neil found that water you spilled all over the stairs" Cory snickers while trying to barricade the door with a plunger . "We’re really dead, now"

Now Neil is seriously freaking out. He limps through the family room noticing pizza and bananas. His rage builds as he finds eggs and potpourri. The kitchen is a wreck, and he’s screaming unintelligibly at the top of his lungs. Five hours of bored messes lay everywhere...

This is not the first time we’ve ‘hidden’ from Neil so he instantly he finds our hiding place and begins shouting obscenities while pummeling the door. At this point, all he cares about is us being dead. Cory holds the door shut with all his might, and still we see it flexing in the hinges. Chris and I frantically arm ourselves with shaving cream and shampoo. We have never heard Neil yell like this before, and we don’t like it.

Chris and I cower in the bathtub as the door bursts open. In front of us stands a very red-faced, Neil: veins bulging in his neck, hair covered with ketchup and Pringles, soggy cookies covering his black shirt and purple pants. It seems that our aim was quite good. The room is completely silent for what seems like an eternity. Finally, the sight before us is too much and the three of us are forced into another fit of laughter. Neil does nothing but stand and gape at us. He either thinks we’re crazy, or he thinks he is. He looks at us with an odd look--one that we have never seen on his face before. Neil’s face wrinkles up and he starts to cry.

Cory, Chris and I look at Neil and instantly shut up. What have we done? Out of all the bad things we’ve done to Neil, we’ve never made him cry. We always thought he liked the attention...

"Neil...."

He turns and runs from the room. As the three of us go after him, we are stopped in the kitchen by a rather upset, wet, cookie-covered Jess.

"Just what the hell are you guys thinking? Don’t you have any idea what Neil is going through? I thought you guys were his friends." The three of us look ashamed but also confused. I really don’t know what she is getting at.

"Going through? We thought you and he were..."

"Yeah, yeah, okay, I hit on him and all, but he was so upset he just wanted to talk. He’s very upset about the whole thing. Wouldn’t you be? Having your mom getting re-married and all. Neil says Arkansas is NOT where he wants to live either, I don’t blame him."

Cory, Chris and I all look at each other once again. Nothing really needs to be said. Things are changing.

"Damn it Neil, why didn’t you tell us?" Cory blurts, now feeling a little teary himself. Neil comes out of the family room and walks into the kitchen with his head down.

"Neil, it’s us man, you can tell us anything." Chris reassures him. He is starting to cry too.

"I’m sorry Neil" It’s all I could say. I looked at my young friend with pity. I know how hard it was and how long it took for him to make friends with us. I can’t stand thinking about him having to do it again.

"I figured you guys would have beat me up if I told you" He sniffles. "Come to think of it, I would have liked that better." Neil looks at us with heavy eyes. All of us are silent.

"Well Neil, It’s really late, I should be going" Jess says simply. "I think I’ll let you guys work this out".

"Sorry about all the trouble Jess" I say to her with a little smirk, "will you be back next Friday?"

"I don’t think so... but who knows. Don’t forget to call me tomorrow Neil"

"Okay, good-bye."

Jess, like a cat, slips into the night. She walks out the kitchen door, hops in her Escort and speeds off into the foggy distance.

"Looks like it’s just the four of us" Neil says. "You guys gonna help me clean up this mess?"

"Are you kidding??" Cory pipes in "The night is still young, and there is a party to be had! Who can we call?"

"Ah forget everyone else, we have everything we need" Chris reassures. I’ll throw in another pizza."

"Yeah, I’ll get the remote, we gotta find something on Skinemax!"

The four of us look at each other and in unison cheer: "Boobies, boobies, BOOBIES" Singing, laughing, and hoping.

Hope you enjoyed the first installment to the "Neil's house" series. Look for more Neil's House enjoyment in weeks to come.

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