Preservation Page #4

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I've determined I'd much rather read

about nature than experience it.

Guess you were never a Girl Scout.

I had a brief stint in the Brownies.

They kicked me out because I said

selling cookies was misogynist.

They kicked Mike out of Boy Scouts

for eating a pair of socks.

He took a game of Truth or Dare too far.

Truth or Dare is a dangerous game.

You wanna play?

Because Walter, Walter, listen.

They are highballing the valuation.

The IP will flatline.

This is not a blue chip.

This is a barely liquid piece

of undercapitalized Dutch horseshit.

There's blood in the water,

and the boys with the fins can smell it.

This is survival of the fittest.

Sink or swim, Walter.

Walter?

Oh, sh*t.

Walter?

Sh*t.

God.

All right, Buck, you bastard.

We're taking a selfie.

You son of a b*tch.

One, two, three, buddy. One, two, three.

You Eagle Scouts

sure make amazing S'more.

Just a minute,

I have chocolate on my face.

- Wash it down.

- I'm a lightweight.

Truth or Dare?

Truth.

Why did you get discharged?

When we were kids, we used

to play war in the woods.

We'd run around with our little plastic

guns and hide behind the pine trees.

You'd get one point each

for every kid that you killed.

And I killed every kid

in the neighborhood.

They'd all fall down and play dead.

The forest floor would be covered with all

these little bodies laying in the mulch.

Till dinner time.

Then they all got up and went home.

Game over.

Truth or Dare?

Truth.

When's the last time

you and Mike made love?

Sorry...

- I didn't make it to the wedding.

- It wasn't your fault.

Besides, the chocolate

fountain malfunctioned.

You didn't miss much.

Mike sent me photos.

Of you and the dress.

You looked beautiful.

I looked blotchy.

Irish skin.

Mike's a lucky man

to find a woman like you.

You got chocolate on your face.

It's getting late.

I'm gonna go to bed.

Put this pooch on a leash, please.

Let's hit the hay, little lady.

Mike?

Mike?

Wake up.

Mike, wake up.

Where the hell's the tent?

Somebody must have cut it.

Wait. What's that?

- Where's our stuff?

- I don't...

- Where's Sean?

- I... don't...

- Gone. Everything's gone.

- Sh*t.

Sean?

Sean! Sean!

Our shoes are gone.

- Someone took our shoes.

- Of course.

Of course he picked this weekend

to go totally PTSD on me.

Why would Sean steal our stuff?

Because he stopped taking his meds?

Because he's gonna become

a hermit and live off the grid?

Because he's jealous of me... of us?

I don't know, Wit.

I don't know why he did it.

And I definitely don't know

what he's gonna do next.

How do we know it was him?

- Who else could it be?

- They came from the east.

Down the declivity, right past me.

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