Conversations With the Sick and Twisted

"You need more stories about me on your blog," said my friend the evil twin today as we were talking on the phone. "You need to spice things up a little. You know talk about some other things, something a little more exciting then the usual stuff."

"So what exactly do you think I should write about?" I asked him, sketching the outline of an eyeball on my order pad, giving it incredibly long eyelashes.

"Well you could write about the words we talked about the other day."

"And what words would those be?" I said jokingly, knowing perfectly well which ones.

"Sticker. Liquor. Bumper. The ones I told you I was thinking about in the car while I was driving."

"Oh, that's right. The words that I said had "er" in common, just to irritate you ... You realize of course that if I write about that, my Mother is sure to say something about you needing a new hobby again right? What was it the last time?" I paused a moment, pretending to think. "I believe it was your hooked on phonics episode. You know the starts with "n" and ends in "pull" word jumble you emailed me. Mom really got a kick out of that one. Said you should take up basket weaving.."

He laughed evilly.

"Do you still have that beer I brought over to your house?"

"I told you, I don't drink beer."

"So the six packs intact then, huh? You know, if I had my own little corner in your house, I'd drop by more often ... Give you more things to write about."

"I am so not letting you have a corner in my house. You need to get over that idea. But do me a favor and warn me when you're coming over, cause the beers been sitting on top of the fridge and it's all nice and warm."

"Well, that's nothing ice can't cure."

"No ... No ice."

"What do you mean you don't have ice? Everyone has ice."

"Well, I have the ice cube trays but they're not filled. I never fill them. And don't ask me why, because I don't know."

"Hmmm," he said. "I guess I'll just have to bring a bag of ice with me when I come over then."

"That just might be the way to go. Of course, you realize I'm not promising to let you in."

"Because you'd rather have Doug over?" he questioned. "Oh, I see how you are now. You want Doug to have my corner ... And I thought we were friends."

"I think I may be ill. Do you mind not putting such disgusting thoughts into my brain. Ugh ...Really. And we are friends moron. Because I am such a nice girl after all."

"I don't like you because you're nice."

"What the hell kind of thing is that to say somebody? You don't like me cause I'm nice. I suppose that makes me what, the evil bitch from hell?" I lathered my voice with mock attitude.

"Oh please. Like I don't know you're just talking to me right now so you don't have to take other calls."

"Humph," I said. "Lucky for you, they're paging me for a call right now."

"Well then, I'll talk to you later," he said, preparing to hang up the phone.

"Oh hey Mike ... I just want you to know, I don't like you because you're nice either."