Dripping

            As Dennis walked around the park, he watched the kids in the volleyball courts play their games.  It warmed his heart to see people being friendly to each other, being outside, and not trying to kill each other.  Seemed like people were always at each other’s throats about things that may or may not matter at all.  The people living in his house, the soulless douchebags that masqueraded as his bosses at work, all those people on Jersey Shore, they all threw the gauntlet down for anything.  Dennis sighed contentedly as he watched the kids play and be happy.

            Since he wasn’t looking where he was going, Dennis happened to run into a jogger, or maybe the jogger ran into him.  Either way, the two ricocheted away from each other, and hit the ground before Dennis realized exactly what had happened.  A tech-store nametag flew through the air and hit Dennis in the face, and he was reminded of that joke about Frisbees and depth perception.  He quietly snickered to himself about the joke as he looked at the nametag.  Sheryll, he read. Let’s see how this works. Time to make a friend, he thought to himself.

           

            “Oh my god, Sheryll, I’m sorry! Are you ok?” He floundered himself in her general direction, hoping to reach her quicker than he would have if he had gotten up.

            “Yeah,” Sheryll said.  She brushed some of the dirt off of her elbows, and looked at Reilly.  “Ok, this isn’t fair. You don’t have a nametag, and you’ve already seen mine.  Tell me, what’s the name of the guy I just ran into?”

            This is perfect, Dennis’ mind raved, maybe she doesn’t have any friends, either! We can be friends!  “Uhh, sorry about that. I’m Reilly, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

            Sheryll leaned closer to him, examining him closely for a few seconds, a weirdly familiar look on her face.

           

            “Wait,” she said. “I know you, Dennis! We dated a few years back. You shat in my cat’s litter box. Remember that, dick?”

            Suddenly, a horrified look came over Dennis’ face. “Oh no,” he murmured.

            “Where is that dripping sound coming from?” Sheryll asked, looking around. “What could possibly be dri- Oh! Oh, for fuck’s sake, Dennis!”

            But Dennis couldn’t respond. His brain was dripping out of his right ear.  Things would be better this way, something told him from the broth that had been his brain.  Dennis smiled, stupidly.