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Everyone knows what happens when ice ages. Leave that shit out for too long and it melts.
Ages don’t last forever, you know. And I think you’ll find that neither do characters brought to light in the old, old age of 2002. They’re old. They’re smelly. They’re saggy. What’s important, though, is making the most of the remainder of their time on Willy’s white Earth.
A brilliant trio like these, our favourite QPL girlies, certainly have their ways of making the most of the dull experience of old age and senile mentality. Banter, complaints, non-gay smooches and much more are hard to go wrong with.
“Eh, it sure is nice weather now, what with Fast Tony’s fossil fuel empire,” says Sid.
“No it’s not, Sid,” scorns Manny. “We’re built for snow. Now everytime I take a step outside I get shoes of mud.”
“That’s not so bad.”
“And you would know?”
“Why do you have to be such a crab, Manny?” says Diego. “What’s wrong with a little mud?”
Manny just scoffs indignantly. He’s a heavy guy, those twigs would never understand.
Oh, but an emo mammoth like him only pretends to hate everything. It’s hard to find, but there’s an inside to him that’s fluffy, and not matted and muddy like his external fluff.
Friendly annoyance is a must for most friendships, and that’s all these conversations ever were. If Manny had the emotional maturity to be honest about his feelings, maybe their relationship would never even work out.
“Hey Sid,” says Diego. “You sure it’s the smog warming up the planet and not your noxious gas?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sid drawls. “If it’s anyone’s gas warming up the planet it’s Manny’s.”
“It’s not that bad,” Manny says defensively.
“Prove it.” Sid crosses his arms like a tsundere.
“Do you really want that?”
“Yeah, that’s a risky hill to die on,” adds Diego.
With all the breaks in their old people-silence being Sid-related, it’s hard to believe the others were ever happy without him. They probably weren’t, truthfully. Sid truly is sticky, both literally and metaphorically. The glue that holds the ideal-found family firmly in place for years and years and one or two more years to come. Sad as it is (sometimes), old people die. I fucking love it when old people do that.
“My friend actually used to date Fast Tony, you know,” says Manny.
“You don’t have other friends, Manfred,” chuckles Diego.
“I was gonna say,” agrees Sid.
“Back in the day, knuckleheads,” says Manny, rolling his eyes.
“Hey, I had a girlfriend that cheated on me with Fast Tony,” Diego makes up with cartoonish exaggeration.
“I’m serious,” Manny insists.
“Why are you telling us this, anyways?”
“So help me for dropping in fun facts from time to time.”
“You can’t blame us, it’s a little hard to believe.”
“None of us have other friends, Diego. You can’t talk.”
Ah, Diego. An unexpected Sexypedia entry. The internet truly knows no bounds.
On the one hand, I understand the enthralling nature of charismatic loners, but on the other? Bestie… it’s time for a glass of water. He’s an early 3D animation sabertooth tiger. Really, think about what you’re admitting to yourself here.
I have no more words to speak about Diego. I will never look at the Sexypedia Wiki the same. I mean, there are FAR worse characters lurking between the pages of that godforsaken site, but I’m just thinking about Diego right now and hemorrhaging.
“Remember the baby?” says Sid.
“Oh yeah, the baby,” Diego says.
“Don’t get him started,” grumbles Manny. “Sid, you bring up that baby every month. I think you’re getting dementia.”
“Maybe…” Sid says. “But I was thinking… what if we had another kid?”
“Woah, woah, woah,” says Diego, back cracking fatally as he sits up straight in shock. “Auugh!” He groans as he slumps sideways, leaning in a C shape.
The others are speechless as they listen to him wheeze in agony, life ebbing out of him with each ghuuuh.
“Well,” sighs Manny as Diego’s chest finally stops heaving, “it was bound to happen someday. Anyway, we never had a kid to begin with. It was never ours.”
“But you know what I mean,” Sid says.
“Diego just died right in front of us.”
“But the adoption and foster system is horrible. Think of the good we’d be doing.”
“Sid, Diego just died right in front of us. We are not fit to raise a child.”
“What are the chances the two of us are gonna drop dead like that, right after him?”
“We are not having another kid.”
Manny’s tusks rattle in growing frustration. Hmm, I wonder where this is going.
“Please?” whines Sid.
“No,” Manny says.
“Pleeeeaaaaassssssseeeee?”
“Stop talking.”
“What if we started babysitting or something?”
“I am going to kill you if you say another word.”
“Think of the possibilities!”
“That’s it.”
Manny winds himself up out of his armchair, aims himself in the direction of his target, and crashes to the ground, dead. A heart attack this time.
“...You could’ve just said no…” Sid says, defeated.
He looks between the cadavers of his best friends.
“Well, looks like I’m in charge now,” he decides. “Which… which means… there’s no one stopping me from following my dreams!”
And with that, he skips merrily out into the street, and gets bowled over by an oncoming stampede.
Thank goodness he never got his hands on any children in need.
What, pray tell, is the moral of this story? Well, old people don’t deserve rights, of course!
The End