The greasy, comforting aroma of sizzling patties and toasted buns hung heavy in the air, a familiar scent at "The Patty Shack," their go-to burger joint for as long as Norton could remember.
He sat back in the worn red booth, a half-eaten double cheeseburger in his hand, a thick shake already half-gone beside it. His eyes drifted around the diner, soaking it all in. Nothing had changed.
The checkered floor was still sticky in spots, the neon sign flickered intermittently, and the jukebox in the corner blared classic rock, just loud enough to make conversation a little effort.
Around him, his boys were in full swing. Lucky, a beacon of perpetual motion, was enthusiastically describing a particularly epic fail he'd witnessed that morning involving a skateboard and a flock of pigeons, his hands animating every detail.
Across from him, Smarty, ever the analyst, was dissecting the current state of a fictional sports league, complete with meticulously researched statistics no one else cared about. Stanson, predictably, was grumbling about something an unnamed "she" had done to annoy him, punctuated by the occasional disgusted snort.
YuShota, calm as ever, ate his Caesar salad with quiet focus, occasionally nodding or offering a brief, almost imperceptible chuckle at Lucky's antics.
And Jackass, true to form, was trying to balance a ketchup bottle on top of a mustard bottle on top of a salt shaker, occasionally letting out a bizarre little cackle when it wobbled precariously.
Norton just watched them, the sounds of their bickering and laughter a soothing balm. This was it. This was the welcome he'd needed, the easy comfort of familiarity, the mundane chaos that was just... home.
Lucky leaned forward, eyes sparkling with infectious mirth. "Yo, you guys are not gonna believe what I saw this morning." He pulled out his phone, already chuckling.
"This dude on a skateboard… man, he ate it so hard, it was cartoonish. Like, legit, you could've added a 'splat' sound effect, and it would've fit." He played the video, and a voice, loud and obnoxious, filled the air from the phone's speaker.
"Yo, audience! I'm gonna tell you one thing: get lit or get hit! Life ain't living unless you taste of blood in your nostrils!"
Norton and Luca watched, captivated, as the skateboarder launched into what was clearly meant to be a show-stopping trick. But instead of landing, he biffed it spectacularly, face-planting onto the pavement with a sickening thud.
Lucky burst out laughing, a full-bellied guffaw that made his shoulders shake. As the dazed skateboarder slowly pushed himself up, the camera zoomed in just enough to show the horrific reality: his two front teeth were gone.
The guy started freaking out, hands flying to his mouth, muffled screams about eating his teeth.
"Yo, he definitely ate his two front teeth, bro!" Lucky crowed, wiping a tear from his eye. "You'll never catch me on a skateboard. If that dude keeps at it, he's gonna be eating with a straw."
"Or maybe through a ventilator!" Norton chimed in, joining Lucky's laughter, tears streaming down his own face.
"Yo, yo, stop!" Norton gasped, clutching his side. "Don't make me laugh anymore! I'm trying to eat my food!" He took another bite of his burger, still smiling, soaking in the easy, familiar banter. The good vibes were strong.
But then, the atmosphere shifted, thick with an almost palpable tension as Smarty decided to weigh in.
The easy laughter died as Smarty's voice cut through the air, sharp and probing. "So, what did you do?" he asked, not unkindly, but with a directness that put Norton on the spot.
"Seriously, man. What was the big issue that finally made you walk?" He looked at Norton expectantly, his purple eyes framed by his glasses, a hint of judgment in his gaze.
Norton bristled, shaking his head. "What did I do? Smarty, you weren't there, man. That whole thing was a one-sided street. Every conversation, every plan, it was always on her terms. I was just... a background character in my own life."
Smarty pushed his glasses up his nose. "Come on, Norton. Relationships are about compromise. You can't just expect everything to go your way. Maybe she was just having a bad day? Or a bad month? Did you even try to understand her perspective?"
"Understand her perspective?" Norton scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping him. "Dude, her perspective was 'me, me, me.' There was no 'us.' Just a constant drain. I swear, the air in that apartment felt lighter the moment I left."
"But that's just part of it, man!" Smarty insisted, leaning forward slightly. "My girl, Natalie, she gets like that sometimes. We all do. You gotta ride those waves. You don't just bail when things get tough. That's what relationships are."
Lucky, who had been listening intently, finally jumped in. "Yeah, but there's a difference between riding a wave and drowning, Smarty. Norton sounds like he was drowning."
"Hold up, hold up, Smarty, you got it all wrong!" Stanson interjected, slamming his hand on the table, making the cutlery jump. "That girl was awful, man! She was awful to everybody, just plain mean." He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "No, bro, you do not need some women. Some women are just unreasonable, man, they always think about themselves. screw them bitches guy you know what I'm saying."
Lucky's mouth hung slightly open, Smarty sighed, rubbing his temples, and even YuShota paused mid-chew, giving Stanson a flat, unwavering stare that spoke volumes. Norton just looked at his friend, a familiar weariness washing over him. They'd heard this rant a thousand times.
The rest of the table responded with a collective, silent "dude, chill." They knew his history, knew his pain, but that didn't make it any less... Stanson.
"Come on, bro, don't say that," Lucky piped up, a slight frown on his usually cheerful face. "That's a little sexist, dude. Not cool."
Stanson just scoffed, digging in his heels. "Sexist? It's just facts, Lucky! My whole life, it's been the same story. Women..." He trailed off, shaking his head.
Just then, Jackass, who had been meticulously building a precarious tower of condiments, leaned in, a mischievous glint in his bloodshot eyes.
With a sudden, dramatic flourish, he slapped his hand down. The salt shaker, the ketchup, the mustard – they all toppled, sending a burst of white crystals directly into Stanson's face.
"A-ha!" Jackass shrieked, leaning back in his seat, ready for the show.
Stanson roared, swiping at his face. "HAAAAA DUDE, Jackass! What the hell?! That was my eye you douche!"
He lunged across the table, not for a punch, but for a retaliatory slap, and soon the two were engaged in a ridiculous slap-fight, limbs flailing, punctuated by Jackass's maniacal cackles.
Smarty, however, remained focused on Norton. He completely ignored the condiment war unfolding next to him. "Listen, man," he continued, leaning across the table, his voice softening slightly, though still firm.
"Just 'cause your girl was a little mad at you doesn't mean she didn't love you. My girl, Natalie, always says she never loves me, but she always comes back. Always. Trust me, I know her like that.
It always works out. I've been with my girl for like, eight years, right? Sometimes we break up, then we come back. They always do that."
Norton shook his head, a weariness settling over him. "No, man. I want nothing to do with that girl anymore.
She lost all my goodwill. Trust me, that girl never brought me peace. I don't think peace was ever in her life. And I genuinely don't care about her anymore." He looked down at his half-eaten burger, a flicker of sadness crossing his face, the bravado slipping for a second.
Suddenly, a warm hand landed on his left shoulder. He looked up to see Lucky, his usual bright smile back, a silent reassurance in his eyes.
Almost simultaneously, a firm pat came from his right. YuShota, who had remained mostly quiet, offered a rare, genuine smile and a nod, a silent message: we're here. Get your mind off her.
Smarty, seeing the moment, finally conceded. He extended his fist toward Norton. "But hey, you know what?" he said, a genuine smile breaking through his seriousness. "I'm still glad to see you again."
Norton bumped his fist, a silent acknowledgment of their unbreakable brotherhood.
"You know what, guys?" Smarty declared, a rare wave of generosity washing over him. "I'm paying for this. Let's go out and do some stuff, alright?"
A collective cheer erupted. "Hell yeah!" Norton shouted. Woah, let's go!" Lucky echoed, already halfway out of the booth.
Heads nodded, grins spread. Smarty swiped his card, then all four turned to leave there, but YuShota paused, looking back at the booth. Stanson and Jackass were still tangled in their ridiculous slap-fight, oblivious.
"Yo, yo! Wonder Twins!" YuShota called out, a faint smile playing on his lips. "We're heading out!"
That snapped them out of it. With a final, retaliatory slap, both untangled themselves and scrambled out of the booth, falling in line as they headed for the exit.
Outside, crammed into Smarty's gleaming, purple, stylized Dodge Challenger in Plum Crazy – definitely not built for six – they managed to squeeze in, finding whatever space they could. It was tight, but the shared absurdity of it all just added to the high spirits.
Mending Fences and Making Mischief
The next few weeks became a blur of reconnecting, a montage of brotherly chaos and quiet understanding.
They hit the abandoned industrial zones, finding a discarded well and filling a glass bottle with some leftover gasoline. Jackass, with a gleeful cackle, lit a rag stuffed in its neck before heaving the makeshift Molotov cocktail down into a abandoned well.
A muffled whoomp echoed from below, followed by a faint orange glow, a tiny, satisfying explosion in the dark. Another afternoon, they found themselves at a deserted construction site.
With a burst of shared energy, they scaled a stack of precariously balanced bricks , pushing them over like dominoes, creating a thunderous, dusty collapse that sent them scrambling, laughing all the way.
Later, in a forgotten alleyway, they gathered a collection of old paint cans and, taking aim at a crumbling brick wall, staged an impromptu paintball war using their hands, splattering vibrant, permanent graffiti until they were covered head-to-toe in a chaotic masterpiece.
It was during one of these hazy, mischievous afternoons, while the others were off doing their own thing, Norton put a hand on Stanson's shoulder. "Look, man," he began, his voice dropping, "we gotta talk. Personally. Just for a bit."
Stanson grunted, eyeing the hand on his shoulder but not shaking it off. "Okay, fine by bro."
Norton and Stanson found themselves leaning against a graffiti-covered wall near a disused skate park.
"Look, man," Norton continued, kicking at a soda can. "I messed up. And I know you told me so."
Stanson grunted, a familiar "I told you so" hanging unspoken in the air, but he didn't press it. He just eyed Norton, arms crossed.
"Oh yeah? What exactly did I tell you?"
Norton sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You said she was gonna bring up personal business that had nothing to do with our conversation. Just out of nowhere, right?"
"Yes," Stanson deadpanned, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "And what else?"
"And that she was gonna brag to her friends that I was stupid and slow," Norton continued, his voice tight with a fresh wave of annoyance just recalling it. Stanson added. "Yeah she probably said it like right in front of your face when you were like right there with her girlfriends right?" Norton nodding slowly.
"Okay," Stanson affirmed, nodding slowly. "Go on."
"And that she was gonna hit me, or break my stuff, if I did something slightly that pissed her off," Norton finished, looking away, the shame still fresh. "Yes. Every single time. You called it all, man."
A beat passed. Stanson uncrossed his arms, a flicker of something almost like relief in his dark eyes. "Well," he said, pushing off the wall. "As long as you're back."
"Well then," Stanson said, a smug grin spreading across his face. "I guess you're gonna take my advice on women now, huh? Or just go single forever, bro."
"Hey, whoa, whoa, no!" Norton quickly retorted, holding up his hands. "I didn't say all that. But you know… I want you to point out the red flags for me. That's all. For future dating advice."
Stanson scoffed, a flicker of his usual disdain for the topic crossing his features. Yet, despite himself, a subtle shift in his posture betrayed a quiet satisfaction. He was back to being heard, back to advising his friend, and for that, he was glad.
They bumped fists, a rough, calloused thud, and in that small gesture, old wounds began to knit themselves back together.
The days bled into weeks, filled with the kind of random mischief only this group could orchestrate. They hit the park, attempting ridiculously ungraceful skateboard tricks that ended more often in bruised egos than actual skill.
They found themselves, late one night, parked on a hill overlooking a distant concert venue, unable to afford tickets but perfectly content to just listen to the music from afar, bobbing their heads and singing off-key with random strangers doing the same. It was simple, unadulterated fun, the kind of living Norton had missed.
Natalie's Welcome and YuShota's Grind
One evening, Smarty pulled out his phone. "Hey, Natalie's free tonight. Let's hit up that new spot."
Soon, they were at a lively outdoor patio. Natalie, Smarty's rowdy, bantering girlfriend, spotted them immediately. Her eyes landed on Norton, and with a delighted squeal, she enveloped him in a fierce hug. "Norton!
You're back, you bum! Good to see you!" she exclaimed, pulling back to playfully punch his arm. The energy was electric, a whirlwind of chatter and laughter, everyone easily falling back into old rhythms. They joked, they danced, they just existed in the easy camaraderie.
Everyone, that is, except YuShota, who was nowhere to be seen. He'd gone out training, as usual. But knowing him, he'd show up later, probably just as the night wound down.
And then, just as the last echoes of laughter faded, a cold, sharp feeling began to creep in.
How does that feel for the start of the mischief? It gives us that immediate, slightly dangerous, yet playful side of their bond, setting the stage for the deep talk and then the more mundane fun.
The laughter, the shared jokes, the feeling of finally being "home" – it all lingered in the air, a warm, comforting blanket.
Then, a month passed.
And after that month, everything changed.