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Rated: 18+ · Script/Play · Comedy · #1458890
Drinking at a friend's house over a break from school.

Chris, Tyler, Wyatt, Doug, Daniel, and Carly are sitting around a table outside, drinking on a cold October night; each is wearing some sort of hooded sweatshirt or Mountain Hardware/North Face jacket; these were the usual jackets of choice in our neck of the woods.

Doug’s dad camefrom inside the house. He’s had quite a few drinks.

Doug’s Dad: Hey guys! Want some taco dip? I made some killer taco dip earlier. I’ll bring it out. And these chips I got from this puh-lace...

Chris: (Suddenly interrupting Doug’s Dad) Wait, the police gave you some tortilla chips?

Doug’s Dad: What? No! From this place and I got tied up talking with the clerk...

Carly: (Interrupting Doug’s Dad again) Hold on. Who tied you up?

Everyone around the table got that Chris and Carly were messing with the man, a result from the somewhat alternated state of mind that everyone appeared to be in.

Doug’s Dad: No, man! I got caught in a con-ver-say-tion with him! I’ll be back in a minute with the dip and chips.

He turned his back and half stumbled back through the storm door into the house.

Chris threw his eyes around the table, taking a look at everyone before pushing back his chair, standing, and zipping up his jacket to its top, covering his mouth and nose.  It was rather cold where heat wasn’t being radiated from a few bodies.

Chris: Alright, well, I’ve gotta take a leak. Be right back.

Carly: Same here.

Carly took a small swig of a beer, finishing it off before getting up with Daniel to follow Chris around the side of the house.

Standing there, exposed, and gazing into the yard, Chris proposed an idea.

Chris: Let’s see who can hold their pee the longest. You have to start and then stop and hold it in as long as possible. Alright?

Daniel and Carly both agreed.

Chris: Carly, do the honors?

Carly: Alright. On the count of three, start pissing and when I say stop, stop. One. Two. Three!

Everyone began to piss, averting their eyes from each others’ cocks to avoid further awkwardness, although after this contest, a look at a cock may be the least of their worries in the area of the eerie.

Carly: OK. Stop!

The sound of urine splashing on the ground immediately stopped. Daniel and Chris stood there with their hands down, flexing that muscle that holds your piss in. Meanwhile, Carly was making painful noises, leaning over, bending his knees. Chris and Daniel looked over to see what he was doing.

Chris: Carly, what are you doing??

Carly: I’m trying to hold it. It hurts so bad!

Carly had been clutching his cock with both hands, trying to stop his stream of piss. Daniel and Chris began to laugh hysterically, losing control and pissing everywhere.

Chris: Carly, let go, dude. You’re gonna hurt yourself!

Returning to the table, they foundd Doug, Wyatt, and Tyler staring at them, looking confused.

Doug: What was that about?

Chris (taking his seat): Dude, we just tried to see who could hold it in the longest. I look over at Carly and instead of flexing, he’s squeezing his dick like a snake.

Everyone at the table laughed wildly while Doug’s Dad returned, banging through the screen door, bringing out the food. Everyone thanked him for the sloppy hospitality.

Time passed by quickly and everyone was about ready to go.

Tyler: Is anybody tryin’ to go to the T-Room?

Everyone nodded in agreement and voiced their opinions about the foods. Plain cheesies and a bowl all the way were Chris’s food of choice. That and a Diet Doctor.

Chris: I’m drivin’.

Doug: No, no you’re not.

Carly laughed excessively at Chris being denied because he thought he was going to drive them, drunk, to the beloved piss hole that is the Texas Tavern.

Wyatt: I’ll drive, but then I gotta drop ya’ll off and go home, so no drinks in the car.

Chris followed them all out to Wyatt’s car with a handful of beers, shoving them into his pockets.  Looking up, he took notice of how entirely excessive the three racks on Wyatt’s Jeep are and mumbles “...Totally unnecessary” to himself.  Tyler had caught on to him and turned around.

Tyler: Did you even hear what he just said?

Chris: Uh...no?

In the car, Chris was finishing a beer fast so there won’t be any in the car.

Tyler: Here. Let me finish that off.

Chris: Ok. Here Tyler.

Tyler took the beer from Chris and chucked it out the window, smashing the bottle on the curb as they drove off. The more beer you have in you, the better the taste of the food in places like the one we headed to.

© Copyright 2008 Christopher Klein (cklein at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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