Wiggins has decided to take a stab at the world of fan fiction. Remember those Steve Garvey comics where he loves burritos? Now you can enjoy them with the power of words! ENJOY.
There was no dobut about it: That was definitely a burrito McKeon had stashed in the dresser drawer second from the top. Garvey knew that smell anywhere. It was hard to listen to what was being said to him. Garvey's brain was salivating. LITERALLY.
"Jack, I think my brain is melting."
"What the hell are you talking about, Steve? Pay attention."
The boys had gone away together on a weekend retreat. Both masters of frugality, they had chosen to attend a timeshare presentation--all expenses paid. Well, all except for burritos. Garvey had checked Yelp ahead of time but there were no Mexican food shops within a 100 mile radius. Where in God's name did McKeon get this burrito? Was it a frozen burrito he had brought with him? No, it smelled too fresh.
But Garvey couldn't let on. McKeon was notoriously secretive about where he bought his food from. "Burrito?" he'd answer. "You know I'm on a diet. Now lay off it." He would position himself firmly in front of the dresser. Unless Garvey barreled into him like he was taking out a catcher blocking home, there was no way to that burrito. That would end their frendship right then and there. McKeon's knees wouldn't hold up. He'd curse Garvey every hour on the hour from the horror that his life had become since being confined to a wheelchair thanks to Garvey's tackle.
Nope, the Garv would have to get clever.
"I'm not talking about anything, Jack My Boy." Garv winked. "Tell you what. Let's go get a drink. My treat. Go hit the Little Boy's Room while I get my coat and we'll--"
"What are you up to, Steve?"
"What do you mean?" Garvey began sweat.
McKeon looked him up and down. Then he looked him down and up. "...Hmmmm."
Garvey swallowed and the gulping sounded as if it were echoing in an endless chamber. His stomach began sending messages. It might have been Morse Code. Garvey wasn't sure. It just sounded like "Beep Beep BEEEEEP Beep BEEP Beeeep" in his brain. It was becoming unbearable.
"You're not looking so good, Steve," McKeon noted. "Maybe you should go take a walk."
Ah-ha! Trying to get rid of me, eh? thought Garv. "I'm fine, Jack. Just fine. Fine right here. Why don't you go take a walk?"
McKeon sighed. "It's going to be like this, then, is it?"
"Like what, Jackie?"
"Don't call me 'Jackie,' Stevie."
"Hey, watch your mouth. You watch it!"
"F**k you, Steve."
Both men lunged at each other. A scuffle ensued. A lamp cord was tripped over, bringing the light source to the ground and snuffing it out with a shatter.
"F**k!" they both exclaimed. By this point they were on the floor, rolling to and fro like a couple of bears sewn together at the paws and injected with heroin.
Finally Garvey let out with it. "Give me that burrito, you son of a bitch!"
McKeon froze. "Burrito?!"
"Yes, mother f**ker. The burrito in the dresser drawer. Give it to me!"
McKeon let out a guffaw as he hobbled to his feet. Garv pushed himself up to a standing position. The two men locked eyes, then after a moment they both burst into a fit of laugher.
Then a shot rang out. Garvey slumped down. McKeon stood over him and took a bite out of the burrito. He chewed slowly and gave a sly grin. As he went to take another bite a second shot was heard.
McKeon paused mid-bite and stared at Garvey. His grip on the burrito loosened and it fell doward, right into Garvey's bloody, outstretched hands. McKeon fell to the floor in a pile. Garvey painfully brought the burrito to his mouth and took a small bite. The lights faded to white and it was all over.
This FanPost was written by a member of the Gaslamp Ball community and does not necessarily reflect the views of the Gaslamp Ball managers or SB Nation.