The twins collapsed into my arms after tellin’ me the news. Ol’ Tim died in a surfin’ accident. Their brother. My best friend. Never told me he’d surfed. That’s Tim, fer sure. Must’ve bin his California life. He shure lived up to our school’s mascot – the cyclone. He roared into our lives for six months, blew up all our ideas, and left us to clean up after. Even got me ta thinkin’ I’s gay. Least I said so to keep the twins’ reputations pure and me on the down-low about datin’ the two of ‘em. Shure shook up ol’ Noah that I’s gay. He tried to change his sexuality to no avail. Even Ol’ Tim rejected ‘im. Turned into a decent lineman fer State, though. Maybe gay makes ya tough.
I guess I gots ta go to Hollywood fer the funeral. I ain’t that happy ‘bout it, all them degenerates. I’ll jist keep my arms around each twin and enjoy the show. I hopes that Robby Boy don’t show up. He’s a real piss ant. Even tried to molest ol’ Tommy at Christmas. He’s jist a boy, that Tommy. All piss and vinegar. He shut that Robby devil worshiper down. Hopes he’s there. I love that kid, I guess. Sure is confusin’ when y’all loves sum-one but yer dick don’t give a shit. Excuse my French. I wonder how John Boy’s doin’? He shure was possessive of Tim. Rich kid. Always havin’ to git his way. At that barn party, everyone seen him and Tim naked in the grass. Somehow ever’one thought they’d bin abducted by aliens. Now we got ol’ Seamus engaged ta Cindy and livin‘ at her ranch, New York come to Ames. Cain’t say the boy didn’t shake things up. Seamus says he’ll help my dad whiles I’s off in Hollywood. I ain’t never sayin’ nothin’ bad about New York City people again.