Team Deathray – Letter 6

Dear Scott,

First things first, my man: “Pie Fest ’98” was THE Pie Fest. It topped all other Pie Fests before it and has yet to be replicated, so if anything you should be honored that I let you wear that shirt. I sent it over as a sign that you are very much welcome in the clan. That is, as long as you refrain from TOO many more violent outbursts towards other members of my family.

I’m happy you finally noticed my family’s ability to not care about the extremely hurtful things that so easily spout out of your mouth. It’s partially because my family grew up in a very loving, accepting and understanding household where we call each other Raphanus on a fairly consistent basis and it’s partially because we’re usually stoned stupid on whatever mind-bending drug we can get our hands on. Remember that back pack full of frogs we brought a couple weeks ago that we told you were for little Sheena’s biology homework? Well, we told a little fib. We had actually smuggled them across the border to escape an evil dictatorship in South America. In exchange for the rescue, they let us lick the hallucinogenic slime off of their bodies. AND LICK WE DID! How’s that for the barter system, buddy?

Now that you’ve had a couple days to come down from the trip and regain complete control of all of your senses, what did you think of your first LSD experience? When I saw you running screaming at my door covered in blood and sour cream (non-vegan sour cream, CHEATER) I thought maybe it wasn’t going too well. But once we smoked you up you started to relax and just talk to the ceiling fan for 4 hours, so maybe you enjoyed it a bit. I bet it had a lot to say! HAHA! Henry seemed nice, too. From what I could tell he was just kind of an apple with a bunch of toothpicks sticking out, but he didn’t do anything to cramp my vibe, so he can hang whenever.

You’re getting close, Scott. When I meditate on your situation I can see you grasping for that elusive pair of homemade sandals. Just inches out of your reach, they dangle their straps and brush against your outstretched fingers. You don’t grab them though, Scott. You must push onward toward your goal. Tomorrow we will be going to the Anti-Insulting of Animals rally bearing our “NO, YOU ARE THE DUMB DOG,” signs. We’ll show those people who make fun of our unable-to-protest-for-themselves friends that we mean business. See you at the crack of 1pm!

-Philip

Team Deathray – Letter 5

Philip,

I felt like a complete asshole in those clothes you gave me. I normally like my clothing very snug, so as to show off the beautiful muscles I’ve worked so hard to achieve. Long khaki-cargo “shants” and an oversized “Pie Fest ’98” Shirt are not exactly what I would call in-style.

But, for the love of Sunny, my beautiful wife, I accepted your proposed change in wardrobe. However, do not think this is me giving up on my way of living. I NEVER give up. I am simply a team player, and I understand that at times you need to rise up the ranks rather than immediately be given the position of Family Emperor.

I’ve heard Sunny blab on about Yoga, but, of course, I have never tried it — until our class yesterday, that is. Taking the class with you really opened my eyes to how puny those sons of bitches are. You call that a work-out? The closest I came to breaking a sweat was when I gave your instructor a left hook to the kisser for stating that I will “get there soon, Raphanus.” My initial reaction is to punch anyone who says the word “anus” to me. After you explained that the Raphanus is just a genus of the plant family which contains the cultivated radish, and that the instructor was complimenting me by calling me a nutritional, vegan-friendly food, I realized that I may have to stop punching what I don’t understand.

It will be a hard habit to break, but I am going to give it a shot.

As for our volleyball game yesterday evening, I was trying SO hard to stop yelling and flipping a shit when you all continually sucked. However, there was that point where I snapped and told your father it was this exact kind of horrendous lack of dedication towards manly pursuits that gave him his hippie offspring. I am going to have to get used to hearing the sounds of laughter and joyful acceptance from your family. It seems no matter how much I yell, it bounces off all of your “clan” and has no affect on your ability to play sports.

As for your dedication to hallucinogenic drugs, that may be the biggest hurdle I have to overcome. I have never put drugs into my body. Not even ones which, as you state, “open up your mind and make colors appear like sparkling rainbow unicorns drunk on elderberry wine.”

I can’t begin to explain how much that sentence makes me cringe. But the fact of the matter remains that if I want to be accepted by your family, I must open my mind and try these new things. I must do this in order to ensure that my wife will continue loving me, and to better understand your personalities so as to be able to get you all whipped into shape under my guidance for the purpose of winning this recreational beach volleyball league.

Since the drug usage will be the hardest to overcome, I want to get that out of the way first. Tonight I will begin taking the LSD you gave me and reporting my progress to you. I am hoping that they will make being some vegan dickbag easier. Perhaps with my mental clarity clouded by illegal substances, it will be easier to live in your smoggy world of acceptance.

Ok. Here goes nothing.

It’s been about 35 minutes and I am starting to feel fuzzy. I am starting to feel like a vision of the sound of yellow. HA. O it is a joy that takes two tolls on this one right here. I am something that not is becoming. Henry is here. He is a player on our team now. What is that Henry? You are becoming music? I can see that. I can see EVERYTHING.

Philip, your name is that. I am alone in this house. Sunny is at an advanced making-shampoo-from-hemp course. Philip, I am heading there. You must show me what to do with this VIOLENCE I SEE OH GOD THE VIOLENCE IS HERE WHY IS IT CONTINUING NO I DO NOT WANT KNIVES IN MY VOLLEYBALL OH GOD I HAVE TO LEAVE I AM COMING THERE!

– SCOTT AND HENRY