daftneophyte: What’s up with this email?
cheydostudio: Exactly what it says.
Pay up, Chewbacca.
daftneophyte: That is just bullshit.
I know, I know, language. But come on.
cheydostudio: Come on and what?
Oh admit it, you lost and now you owe me.
daftneophyte: I don’t owe you jack shit.
cheydostudio: Do I have to show you the contract?
daftneophyte: That shitty dithered jpeg you made with a mouse?
When we were both blitzed off our asses?
cheydostudio: The quality of the contract’s appearance notwithstanding–
You did not follow through on your end.
daftneophyte: Oh yeah just cuz you followed through on yours.
Because yours was to catch a fish and put the picture up on fucking Facebook.
cheydostudio: I did do it.
The next day even.
daftneophyte: Big whoop. Fish are like the only thing you can eat on AssCrack Island.
cheydostudio: I still did it.
My end was to ask my supervisor out for drinks.
She’s like 80, you jerk.
I think it’s called a May/December romance.
daftneophyte: More like 2009/1812.
I was afraid it was too much of a stretch.
cheydostudio: No, it was good.
Anyway, I was just messing with you. I’ll let you off the hook.
Unlike my delicious fish.
daftneophyte: God bless you, you big fat jerk.
Not like it mattered anyway.
I’m not even sure I could play video games out here.