GAYS FOR DAYS posted:

VikingSkull posted:

roll tide

Heath posted:

On a porch in Reform, Alabama.

"Wayne and Tasha keep talkin' about these frogs, or froggers, or somethin' and I'm gettin' worried."

"Frogger? I played the hell outta that one at Jack's Bar before that retard Arlo DuPree knocked it over onto the owner's son."

"No, idjit, not the game. Wayne's actin' kinda... Off-color. Him and Tasha both. Ravin' all the time about bein' harassed. Then 'e closes up that hot dog stand what he jus' open. Says business was good, but he's all closed up now. Jus' like that."

"Let me tell you a thing or two about Wayne Robinson. I went to school wit'im and he had all the brains and the work ethic of a horse. Well, maybe not the work ethic, but 'e had intuition, y'know? Like a tiger. He didn't give no hot cat poo poo about whether the odds were against 'im. I admired 'im fer it."

"Did you ever eat at his shack?"

"gently caress no. Do you think they're real, though?"

"What?"

"The froggers."

A croak in the distance. Both men sit in silence for what feels like a long time.