Good ole boy Nick, Wayne Ye Ray, and Magus Simpson watching Chanticleers foosball.

We all hate Nicky just enough.  You know, enough to make it interesting.

Wayne Ye Ray and Magus Simpson had bumped into him at Popeye's, at the Travel Plaza, and they were cajoling, taking a table to watch the Tuscaloosa at Conway game, you know, Chanticleers and all, the whole thing a bramble bush of absurd sh*t talk.

Wayne was gonna make an NFT of a candid shot of Nicky's penis, and Nicky had made an agreement to purchase it in Cardano altcoin.

If many of us ever caught Nicky in a dark coroner, I tell you, it would be unmentionable, the desolation.

They were also on about Neil Armstrong omitting a word from his transmission from the moon.  They wanted, "A magnificent desolation", but got "screw the Erf, meesh negroes."

"But Jews are white, too" Nicky said, and all the while Magus was uncomfortable as hell, like he had pebbles in his shoes or something, something he needed to tampa down, ya know?

There were a few times there where I would imagine evil things I could do to Nicky, while I was sitting around on-hours with KFC and stolen beer, thinking and imagining, I mean, really, how do you solve a problem like Nicky?  All the fun of doing things to Nicky.

They had pissed off Magus and Wayne saying Magus's "Joos" energy drink sounded like "Jews" and he was of course, finger on the bottom, army of Roger Roger droid lawyers and all.  When the truth was, despite being tagged by nature in such a way, Magus just couldn't spell "Juice".

They had Wordle going too.  Old Gray hairs.

Idiots.

Oh great, and one of Magus's old employees was happening by, and that was the rub, he had a lot of employees, but that meant a lot of former-employees too.  The devotchka was obviously a some-time fired person from his employ.  Bearing a grudge, so to be said.  And the devotchka said, "I hope you choke on that cajun thigh...."  and added, for posterity, "Mister Simpson."