filling in for Joe Dumars at a pistons game, high. get to the bench late, through the wrong entrance - band/security stops me, i tell them i'm joe dumars, they apologize and carry me to bench. i'm wearing a green long-sleeve t so i take it off. "no no no, not too soon." playing with a livestrong bracelet making machine, choose color called gunsmoke, get a skinny yellow rubber band instead, and it's broken. tell brett i'm not going to shoot much in this game. brett tells me if it wasn't all official i'd knock down all my shots. cut to: brett on playground swishing a 3, saying "yes!" brett's mom aka fan aka ref says "yes" in the same voice but also rocky's voice. back to pistons game. filling in for laimbeer is joel mchale from the soup. jewish moms all left to tend to a certain tragedy, all sons notified by text.
cut to 20th floor, british hotel. possessed joel mchale holds a hundred people in lines of 3, waves gun, lectures ably, puts people on spot. says to one asian girl, "you've got the perfect face for television" and puts one through her dome. he turns to me, "see, if you'd try a mini-muffin with some ketchup..." and hands it to me. for survival, i pretend it's a gross and funny combination but i don't mind ketchup on a muffin. he waves gun at me. i beg him, "i'd make horrible tv," kneel behind someone. mchale aims at my forehead, i'm sure it's about to happen, but he shifts his attention, shoots through another guy's palm to make a point about pop culture. lots of crying, everyone's losing calm, descending into madness. some tv dad enters (it's patrick duffy but it's not), i slip out the door, book down the hall, waste 3 seconds at elevator, realize he'll just stop me at the 16th floor, go to staircase, fly down whipping around corners, jumping whole flights. pass the 16th floor, mchale screaming, vowing, gunshot victims screaming and dying. whip down more stairs, twist ankle, find a janitorial space with exposed pipes, no lock, no door. curl up, beg for police to come scoop me, told to sit tight, they're pretty busy.
wake up, horrified, don't want to pee, sad about the real shooting, less sad but still sad for having a second negative association with joel mchale (first was his appearance on pos improv show "thank god you're here"). plan for the moment is to watch msnbc until whenever.
