Grilling up some burgers and dogs on this picturesque June afternoon, Sawyer? Better make room for that pimply face of yours. Oh wait, the grill’s not even on. Are you really using it as extra room for the containers of Thai food you picked up in town? Christ. You even brought chopsticks. And to think you’re the one who’s scared.
You’ve probably never even grilled before. This is a top-of-the-line Weber, you know (of course you don’t). Do you buy all your meat pre-cut, too? Assuming you do eat meat, which I’m not so sure, not with those skinny arms of yours. I saw you struggle with the firewood earlier. Back in the day, you’d be bullied for looking like that. This was before school shootings became a thing, so you knew there was no downside. It would toughen you up, boost your self-esteem. But look at what you have now. Kids don’t know how to-
Whoa, you just collapsed with a mouthful of tom kha gai. And I didn’t even have a chance to lay a finger on/machete into you yet. They must have poisoned you. Figures. They want to come to this country and then stuff like this happens. That’s one reason I hunt and forage for all my food.
***
Don’t bother running, Channing; those flip-flops with the bottle opener on them won’t do you any good. You just had to come down here to the equipment shed all alone and fumble around for whatever it was you thought looked so darn hilarious after you smoked pot this morning, didn’t you? Well go ahead, look around. There’s stuff here for capture the flag, tug of war, kickball…
Oh, no. What’s in that box? Please don’t tell me you guys brought participation trophies. I shouldn’t have to tell you that if you make the losers feel like winners, that’s going to be awfully confusing for everybody. We don’t need any of that “yin and yang” stuff around here. Don’t get the wrong impression about me, though. I just told your friend I’m all about improving self-esteem, I really am. But not like this. All this does is create a whole generation that thinks it’s okay to be mediocre at-
Hey, I know these floorboards are rotting, but you don’t need to examine them that closely. Channing? You’re not breathing. Dammit. This cabin is pretty small; you probably ran out of air.
***
Where do you think you’re headed, Karter? I know you’re freaked out about Sawyer, but did you really just call an Uber? Things didn’t used to be that simple, you know. There were no “smartphones” to call a ride with an “app.” If you wanted to escape from me, you’d have to drive something with a manual transmission – a skill I doubt you have.
The problem is you’re too dependent on technology, whether it’s phones that have a GPS or vehicles that shift by themselves. I, for one, am sick of it (yes, I know I was once transformed into an indestructible cyborg in a nanotechnology-equipped space station, but this isn’t about me). You think you can skate by with the push of a button, or by pressing down one pedal at a time. Well, I’ve got news for you: sooner or later you’re going to have to learn that-
Oh, not again! You’ve fallen face-first into a giant mud puddle. Maybe all that car talk was overwhelming for a girl. Too bad; I was going to pop the hood and give you a real close look at an internal combustion engine.
***
Let me sink my machete into this log down by the water to get your attention, Paisely. I see you wanted to sleep under the stars. Good call. Light breeze, no bugs. Oh, there’s two of you in that sleeping bag. I would say sorry to interrupt, but I think being preoccupied by a threatening adult figure while getting it on is a traditional family value.
I’ve seen this before, actually, and let me tell you: Years ago, I’d grab that bag you’re in and whip you into a tree several times. But I just can’t do that anymore, not with the problems I’ve been having with my back lately.
But that’s the downside of having a self-reliant lifestyle. The place I live in? I built it. Something breaks? I fix it. The bodies I bury? I dig the holes. Sure, it takes a toll, but it’s better than having to call someone up all the time. I bet if your bathroom floods or your roof caves in, you get your landlord on the line ASAP. You probably don’t want to get your texting thumbs all dirty. If you would just handle those problems yourselves, then you’d know the value of hard-
Are you kidding me? You guys are sleeping. I guess you finished before I got here. Actually, neither of you has a pulse. Great. Two more kills spoiled. Now I know how Freddy felt.
***
That thunk you all heard outside was me, and now I’m here, standing in the only doorway of this cabin as you look up from your Monopoly board in fear. Interesting game, really. Gets me thinking how you kids have so many “Get Out of Jail Free” cards in life: being paid 15 bucks for a job that’s worth half as much, having your student loans forgiven, moving back in with your parents because rent is too expensive or whatever.
Back when we had a real president (he was an actor, but one of the good ones), we’d get a part-time job to pay for a semester or two. And then we’d cut back on steaks and such. If it worked then, it’ll work now. Instead, you say you want the government to do more because the cost of living is too high, the minimum wage has been stagnant, the top one percent hoard their wealth to send themselves into space for three minutes at a time, blah, blah, blah. Well, I think you want to leech off the welfare state because you’re entitled and idealistic and-My God, all six of you slumped over in your chairs simultaneously. Un-fucking-believable. I know that that game can be tough to get through, but not that tough. So now what? Mosey on back to my shack? Man, of all the days to have bad luck.
