Deep in the suburbs of Slenderville, a nineteen year old man is riding a light blue bicycle, wearing matching biking gear. Behind him is a basket filled with newspapers. He throws a newspaper at each house he passes. He throws a newspaper at an old woman while she plants seeds in her garden. Realizing his mistake, he gasps, and begins riding his bike to her.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Shahon! I- I'll make it up to you!" He yells, running to Mrs. Shahon, arms and legs looking similar to a marionette being controlled by somebody who doesn't know how to properly control a marionette.

Mrs. Shahon looks like she's trying to ignore having to talk to the paper boy, but alas, he never fails to ruin her day.

"Oh, it's alright, Matthew, but can you do me a favor? I dropped my cellphone in the dirt?" Matthew shakes his head eagerly, gets on his knees, and grabs the phone.

"I never use the damned thing but my boyfriend insists we text when we can't see eachother in person." Matthew spits on the phone and uses his shirt as a towel.

"Oh really? It's nice seeing love blossoming between two old fellas. I text my girlfriend when we can't see eachother too." Matthew finishes and stands there like he's waiting for the conversation to continue.

"Well... I better get home, David's probably finished cooking up breakfast." Matthew grins,

"Yep, you too! See ya!" He walks away.

Matthew gets onto his bike and rides out of her driveway to the house on the end of the street. The house is decorated in Christmas lights and wilted shrubs, crying the inaudible sounds of death and despair. When he walks inside the house, things aren't good either. The smell of burning food is carried through smoke and the smell of a redheaded piece of shit about the same age as Matthew, watching Spongebob, hits Matthew's nose as soon as he opens the door.

"Uh, David, I think the food might be done."

"Go check it."

"Shouldn't you be the one t"

"Go check it."

Matthew walks into the kitchen and David begins laughing at the television.


David and Matthew are sitting at the dinner table and eating breakfast in dead silence. Listening to the sound of the clock ticking. Once it reaches 2:13 PM he stops and tries to begin a conversation with David. He looks down at their plates, and notices David's steak and eggs are slathered with ketchup.

"Ya know, they say when a steak is good, you don't need sauce."

"When you're eating five dollar steak, you need sauce." David wipes his face with a paper towel drenched in ketchup and egg yolk.