Joey walks off to the washroom. Several cups of kombucha and vodka will do that to you, and now that he’s broken the seal, it’ll be nothing but walking back and forth for the rest of the night.
Tulsa begins wagging her tale and getting all excited. She’s jumping up at the door. At first in my drunken state, I call out to Tulsa: “come here girl. Come here Tulsa, nobody’s at the door.”
I hear Joey yell from the washroom: “grab the knife man!”
“What? Why?”
“Grab the fucking knife man. Do it now?” Joey demands.
Why the fuck would I grab a knife? Just because a dog is getting excited by nobody being at the door. Oh, shit. The dog knows someone is coming. There is going to be someone at the door, and if Tulsa knows that person, he might own this place. He might be the one who trapped me here, buried me in a partial grave.
Joey flings the washroom door open, run full speed before he has a chance to do up his pants, that fall down around his ankles. At the same time, I stand up.
Joey says: “I’ll stop the door, you grab the knife.”
Joey falls flat on his face, tripping on his pants, and his underwear have fallen down a little, exposing his fairly ample bottom. I try to leap over him, but my foot gets caught on his leg which is sticking up a little, and I too go down belly first.
The door opens slowly, as I turn to look, parts of my body are accidentally intertwined with Joey, and I’m almost on top of his nearly half naked body. Tulsa pushes the intruder back, in a friendly way, jumping, licking, and getting even more excited.
The stranger’s foot enters the door!