Chapter 24

“Yahtzee!” shouted Spiderman. He and Nigger Jim were at the apartment playing an intense round of America’s favorite dice-rolling game that starts with “Y.” After Spiderman’s loud exclamation, both he and Jim proceeded to collapse on the floor laughing because they were just having too much fun. Their light mood quickly became more somber as a soaking wet Wolverine came walking through the front door.
“Oh…it’s you,” said Spiderman coldly.
“Aw lawda m-m-mercy, I b-bes’ beez gettins outta heeya!” stammered Nigger Jim, who proceeded to run right through the sliding glass door in the back of Spiderman’s apartment and tumble off of the balcony, waving his arms wildly as he went.
“Yeah…I just got out of jail and had to walk about 20 blocks in the rain.”
“So, what’s the damage?”
“Well, they charged me with possession of ecstasy by consumption, second-degree assault…and lewd behavior…for when I layed my penis on top of that cop’s head…which I barely remember, by the way.”
“Yeah, that was pretty fucked up,” sighed Spiderman.
“I guess it seemed funny at the time…damn, it’s a bitch coming down in jail.”
“Did they put you in your own cell?”
“Nah, they just threw me in the drunk tank,” replied Wolverine. “Damn, I feel like such an idiot.”
“Well, okay, it happens dude. It’s just…I think this is the last time I’m gonna let you take more than a dozen doses of ecstasy at one time.”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” With that, the conversation became a little less tense, and Spiderman never brought up the topic of Wolverine’s arrest ever again.
“So, Wolverine, drink some TheraFlu and change into a dry costume, cause we’re gonna get the ball rolling on our wacky plan.”
“Tight. What’s the first step?” asked the blue-and-yellow bandit.
“Well, in order to get Mr. Crazy to play with his own poop, we’re gonna need one basic ingredient. Can your ecstasy-addled mind figure out what that might be?
“Um…” thought Wolverine, “Mr. Crazy’s poop?”
“Exactly,” smiled Spiderman, “And it just so happens that our friend Nigger Jim gave me a tip about where Mr. Crazy is hanging his hat nowadays.”
“No way!” exclaimed Wolverine.
“Way!” exclaimed Spiderman right back. “Therefore, I propose that we go to Mr. Crazy’s hideout, wait until he leaves, then break in and steal his poop.”
“What if there’s no poop at his hideout?”
“Wolverine, honey, baby, if I know crazy people as well as I think I do, there should be plenty of poop floating around in his toilet.”
“You’re right!” said Wolverine. “How could I be so stupid…crazy people never flush the toilet after taking a dump.”
“Right. So we go in, get the poop, get out, and then we can finally get this show on the road.”
“It’s gonna be so funny watching Mr. Crazy playing with own poop,” giggled Wolverine.
“Yes…yes, I imagine so.”
“Okay so where exactly is Mr. Crazy’s hideout anyway?”
“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you!” smiled Spiderman.
“Tell me! Tell me!”
“It’s in, get this, the old abandoned insane asylum.”
“Genius. Absolutely genius,” said Wolverine, tapping his foot.
“I know, isn’t it?” asked Spiderman rhetorically. “Okay, so Wolverine, honey, baby, pal, get cleaned up and psyched up cause we’re going into the belly of the beast, man.”
“Right on,” gurgled Wolverine. “Hey…Spiderman…”
“Yeah?”
“We’d better bring along a flashlight and some extra batteries, just in case.”
“Good thinking, buddy.”