Jack is responsible for this, and he is a very responsible man for manager

One pill, two pills, three pills, four: I ain’t feel no pain no more.

Five pills, six pills, seven pills, eight: I can’t stop smiling, I feel so great.

Nine pills, ten pills…THEIR GONE?

How many days has it been?

No pills, no pills, no pills, none: I cannot find my smile, this is no fun.

The days are sooooo long.

I look in the mirror and the swelling has gone down and the bruises are less visible. The pills work! But…my shoulders still look like they were crushed by a Yeti, a Sasquatch, a Big Foot, a dimension shifting Alien. Least the trail of tears I left behind from the pain is all gone.

PAIN FREE.

Maybe traveling by myself to PRIME shows wasn’t a good idea. I need to prove my worth to the boss though so showing how responsible I can be will show how helpful I am.

You are hiding the truth from him though.

I spit it out, but The Doc told me he didn’t remember it and it was like I was speaking in tongues. Not the tongues in Vickie Halls mouth though.

Booya.

Look at me now though. I am healing myself with the help of my new buddy, Chaz and taking care of myself as I travel the west coast.

Yea, McChicken sandwiches for every meal is really healthy.

Oh, sorry, when you even have an appetite.

I even lost some weight. I am looking mean and lean.

And sleeping in a tent with more holes than a brick of Swiss cheese.

I am a survivor; nothing can stop me from being a better Jack.

You going to stick your thumb out now for a ride?

I even have a general knowledge of how to get to Portland.

I-5 North for 577 miles is tough.

I need to find Chaz as quickly as I can. I know he will be in Portland, but I can feel the pain coming back.

What’s with the scratching?

I might be getting sick. My skin feels weird, and everything is beginning to itch.

If it feels like a spider, you may have been around Lowell Dot Com.

I have 450 miles left to travel though, so let’s do this.

Put your thumb out.

See you son Portland and more important: Chaz!

More importantly?

I mean…the boss man and here comes a car!

--

“What are you hungry for, Steve?”

The Doc is behind the wheel as he and Steve race down I-5 North towards Portland. Steve looks out the window and rubs his stomach with his right hand. “Hmm…”

“Nothing…”

Before he can finish, the Man, Miracles used to gravitate too interrupts him, “was that Jack?”

“What about Jack?”

Harrison points backwards, “I swear to god that was him hitchhiking.”

The Doc slows down and looks at Steve, “he told me he was going to meet us there to prove how managerial he can be. But I can turn around.”

Harrison turns his head back and shrugs, “even if it was him, he looked like he hadn’t showered in days, do you really think we can put up with that for eight hours?”

“We can always say we didn’t know it was him.”

He taps his nose with his index finger, “Smart. I haven’t seen him over a week anyway. I know I had been avoiding him, but he seemed to be doing the same. I went to the Merch table after my match, and he was gone. He had some be back in ten minutes sign but come on…where the hell would he have gone?”

“Bathroom?”

“Ten minutes?”

“Chipotle?”

Harrison laughs, “is that an actual medical condition? Death by chipotle diarrhea?”

“You would be amazed of what people put in their bodies, Steve.”

“I…um…giggity?”

“I don’t get that reference. I am in my sixties.”

“Shwing?”

“Ah like Waynes World?”

Steve nods and then pauses, “what were we talking about?”

“Lunch.”

“Ah yes…no chipotle.”

---