Picture Fiction: Dude

(This was originally published January 18, 2006).

Warning: Language.

Taking a random photograph from Flickr and weaving a short story around it. It’s Picture Fiction!

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“Dude, I swear to you, I’m not lying.”

Ben waved a dismissive hand. “Whatever man. I can never believe what you tell me.”

Jon faked a wounded look.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Ben chastised. “Remember Cindi?” His eyebrows arched like parenthesis turned on their sides.

Jon winced. “That was a joke, man. I didn’t lie to you, per se, it was simply an omission of truth. I swear I had no idea Cindi was dating that big ass wrestler guy.”

“Uh huh,” Ben nodded, not looking convinced.

“Anyway, I’m not lying this time. Amber and Tina invited us over Friday night. We’re supposed to be at their house around 10ish with a 12 pack in hand.”

‘Who did you talk to, exactly?”

“Amber.”

“Ha! I knew it! Amber wouldn’t talk to you, EVER, cause she can’t STAND your ass. She thinks you’re all immature and stuff.”

Jon placed a hand over his heart. “Kill me, dude. She said that?”

Ben just shrugged.

“I swear, if I’m lyin’ then I’m dyin. Call her up, ask her for yourself?”

“And make a total ass out of myself? No way, man. I like this Amber. I’d like to take her OUT. If I call and you’re totally bogeying me then I’ve blown my chance.”

“What can I do to convince you I’m not shittin’ you?”

Ben turned away.

“Ok, OK! You’ve reduced me to extreme measures. I’m gonna tear my Levi’s, my FAVORITE jeans man, to prove to you I’m not lying.”

“Whatever, dude. You’re nuts.”

“No, really! I’m gonna do it!” Jon plops down in Ben’s computer chair. “Seriously, I will.”

“I’ve known you since fourth grade, Jon. I ain’t falling for your….”

Jon grabs a pair of scissors from Ben’s desk drawer and snips the cuff on his right pant leg.

Ben laughs and shakes his head. “Bro, you’re crazy.”

“Believe me?” Jon taunts.

“No way.”

“Fine.” Jon grabs the edge of his pant leg and begins pulling. He continues to tug on the material winding the piece around and around his leg. He triumphantly holds up a long strip of denim. “Believe me now?”

Ben laughs and shakes his head. “Your mom is going to kill you man. All right, we’ll go.”

Jon grins. “Cool dude, now loan me some money for new jeans.”

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