Looping Out Jerry
The following is first in a series of short stories involving a fictional character named Jerry. It contains crude humor and filthy, dirty language. So if you’re young or consider yourself a prude, please continue your internet-browsing journey here, here, or better yet here.
To:
From: carl.withers.86@gmail.com
Cc: ambereliot@gmail.com; frankatomsH@hotmail.comSubject: Come With Me If You Want To Live
November 10, 2024
5:56PMDear friends:
Do NOT share this with anyone. We don’t want to cause mass-hysteria. We’re choosing to include you in this email because we care about you. A lot. We’ll cut to the chase.
The world is going to end on November 21st. Don’t panic. We have a plan. Long story short Frank discovered some pretty intense stuff in his research at work that confirms our worst fear: that life as we know it will cease to exist in 11 days. We have a culmination of climate change, zombies and earthquakes to thank. Kind of like last year’s great earthquake season meets Frank’s favorite movie from the 2000s The Day After Tomorrow meets that old AMC show The Walking Dead we used to watch on Netflix (or on those doohickeys called televisions, may they Rest In Peace. GOD WE’RE SO OLD RITE?”). But seriously, this is serious. If you want to live, please reply ALL. More deets to come.
Love in survival,
Carl, Amber and FrankPS the hurricane-tsunami this week isn’t supposed to be as bad as last week’s. I think they’re going to open the newly-formed West Hollywood beach, fingers crossed. Beach day? Climate change is a drag, but at least we don’t have to drive allllllllll the way to Santa Monica anymore (may it Rest in Peace too).
Amber and Frank read Carl’s draft.
“Looks good to me,” said Amber.
“Frank?”
Frank took a beat. Something was on his mind.
“It’s great.” said Frank.
“Buuuut….?” Carl and Amber replied together, almost on cue. Typical Frank.
“In the third sentence, we’re referring to the group. Shouldn’t it say you all instead of you?”
“Oh who cares!” Carl was impatient. “It’s an email about the end of the world. The Grammar Nazi’s aren’t gonna find us because of one fucking sentence.”
“Well, see, it’s not just one senten…”
“Frank, we need to send this email. Time is of the essence.”
Carl had been trying to cut down on clichés in his writing and every day dialogue (his editor’s suggestion). As the words escaped his mouth, he realized that time is of the essence was right-out-of-a-disaster-movie-cliche, but he didn’t have time to come up with something better. Personal development can wait, god dammit he thought. We’re running out of time!
“I know but if we just make it plural real quick it would…”
“Frank, for God’s sake, you still use a Hotmail account…”
“Oh, you had to go there.” Frank was upset. Carl was birthing his inner-bully.
Amber and Carl laughed. Carl was about to move on, but he was having too much fun. Frank’s Hotmail account was a topic of frequent discussion whenever it was pick-on-Frank-day, which, for better or worse, was more often than Frank would have liked.
“Hotmail doesn’t event exist anymore, man! They got bought out by…”
“I know, they got bought out by NBCUniversal Viacom back in 2019 when Microsoft sold it off. I got grandfathered in.”
“Yeah, you and a bunch of other actual grandfathers.”
“BAHAHAHA!”
“Oh Comcast. May it Rest In Peace.”
Frank was ready to move on. Carl thinks he’s sooo funny.
“Can we get back to the topic at hand? This is serious stuff.”
“Yes. Okay. Well, it’s two against one, Frank. Amber and I win.”
“I don’t care anymore. Fine. Moving on, we’ve got to figure out who to send this email to.”
“Agreed. I was thinking Jason, Sarah, Lorraine, Dennis and Jack.”
“Don’t forget Stew and Gina!”
“How could we forget. The PDA couple.” Frank squirmed as he tried to erase the image of Stew sticking his hands down Gina’s pants at an outdoor screening of Toy Story 7 last summer. PDA doesn’t even describe it, he thought, I know they had a blanket over each other, but still… it’s uncalled for! While this was an accurate assessment of Stew and Gina’s affection for each other, deep down Frank was so upset because he hadn’t felt the warmth of a vagina in over six years.
“We can add them. But let’s look into building them their own room in the escape pod. Anyone else?”
“What about Jerry?”
Jerry was the odd one in the group. He made an appearance at approximately a third of the group’s gatherings but generally seemed disinterested in partaking in their activities. Some blamed it on him “being kind of a dick,” but others defended him, describing him as a “hermit who only comes out to eat, surf, take yoga classes, throw dinner parties and well, okay, maybe you have a point there. But he’s a great guy!”
“Let’s include Jerry. He’s a great guy!” All three exchanged glances.
“Fine. Who else?”
“Connor and AJ. For sure.”
“I’m fine with that, but you know how those two work. If we include them, we have to include Rob. They come as a unit.”
“Deal. We can suffer. How about Monica?”
What Monica did in her day-to-day life was always up for debate. No one knew, and no one asked. The ongoing theory was that she was either a party-clown-by-day-coke-dealer-by-night or a serial killer.
“Sure, but if she kills one of us, it’s on you, Carl.”
“Fine. So, we have Jason, Sarah, Lorraine, Dennis, Jack, Stew, Gina, Connor, AJ, Rob, Jerry and Mon—”
“Actually,” Amber interrupted, “Let’s leave Jason out. Let’s not forget he cheated on me when we were dating. He’s a horrible human being and I can’t stand —”
“Amber, you’re past this. He may be terrible, but he’s our friend. And besides, he apologized.”
Amber had made peace with Jason six months prior but still harbored bitter feelings towards him that came out during times of stress. Her therapist would have qualified today as a “time of stress.” You can do this, Amber, she thought, you can do this.
“Okay. Fine. The list looks good to me.”
“And me.”
“Great, something we can all agree on.”
“Ready to do this?”
“Yes.”
“Yup.”
“Alright, good.” Carl was pleased they were all on the same page. Shit, another cliche. I’ll work on it next week. He took a breath as his cursor found the “send” button.
“Wait.” Frank placed his hand on Carl’s arm to stop him. There was a long pause.
“What is it?”
“You know how Jerry feels about chain emails.”
Everyone looked at each other as the comment sank in. Amber spoke first.
“You’re right.”
“He also hates long paragraphs. He probably won’t even read it.”
“And he hates replying all. Or anyone who replies all.”
“He’s pretty difficult.”
“Yeah.”
“…he’s kind of a dick.”
The three friends sat in silence. Carl said what needed to be said.
“Well, I think we know what we need to do.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s for the best.”
Carl pointed his cursor to Jerry’s email: j@jerryj.io.
“He couldn’t even have a normal email address.”
Carl highlighted it and hit “delete.”
