[o]

TT: I am piloting the moon through the Furthest Ring right now.
TT: At the moment, it's passing through a dream bubble. I am visiting your dream in person.
TT: Or, you are the one visiting me as I travel, in your sleep. If you'd rather look at it that way.
TG: ok
TG: so all those questions you asked me
TG: getting me to remember
TG: you were just stalling me werent you
TG: so i wouldnt wake up and try to stop you
TT: Not entirely.
TG: this sucks
TG: could you just please turn the thing around and come back
TT: Why?
TT: I'm already out here. Might as well go through with it.
TG: we agreed id do it though
TG: or at least you pretended to agree
TG: just before going into a major league wind up with your nap yarn
TT: A major league wind up?
TG: sports
TT: It's always been pretty sad that I seem to know more about sports than you. Which is really saying something.
TG: all im saying is
TG: no one likes a basketball hog
TT: It's probably just "ball hog."
TG: i just think you should know
TG: that in the athletic arena of competitive achievement
TG: its a widely known fact that cherry picking posers get showered in nothin but boos
TG: you dont gank the rock and steal the big mans thunder on his raucus drive to the hole
TT: Oh lord.
TG: is that the sort of ignominy you want
TG: see you didnt consider sports you never consider the sports
TT: The last thing I want to do is come between a big man's thunder and any particular hole he might prize.
TG: and yet
TG: such has been whats happened
TG: it like the tight end was going long down the yard in sudden death
TG: its me im the tight end
TG: and the quarterback sniped the fieldgoal just before the nfl buzzer went off
TG: the greedy qb is you
TT: That's not even close to being a thing in football.
TG: but instead of winning the gold sports prize you just fucking die and nobody cares and it didnt mean anything
TT: Which prize is that?
TG: the football prize
TT: You mean the most vaunted accolade associated with the gridiron, known as "Stanley's Cup?"
TG: no come on
TG: its called the bruce bombardi trophy or something
TG: for best pile squad
TT: I'll take your word for it.
TG: and even though youre dead all these fat millionaires in helmets just leap on your corpse anyway and pile up and i mean WAY up
TT: How high do they even have to be?
TG: the sport pile doesnt stop from getting taller
TT: Does the officiator have a means of measurement on hand?
TT: I wouldn't want to be crushed by a nonregulation sport pile.
TG: what do you care youll be dead like the mission thieving poser you are
TT: Poser?
TT: So not cool.
TG: yes poser it should be my torso getting pulverized by that avalanche of overpaid beefcakes and you know it
TT: I forget what we were doing exactly.
TT: Were we pursuing the hackneyed debate over who has the best claim to self sacrifice,
TT: Or seeing who can out-dumbass the other with obtuse sports lingo?
TG: there obviously stopped being a difference between those things the question is offensive
TG: almost as offensive as you stalling me while you peel out of here in your dumb moon
TT: I'm the one stalling?
TT: The moon is probably just a speck in the sky now due to your strange beefcake harangue.
TG: yeah but i dont know how to wake back up is the thing
TG: how do i wake back up
TT: I guess I could wake back you up, if you really want.

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