KnotMyProblem: yeah
GlitterDoctor: So idk how the rest of your Saturday has gone, but my Saturday didn’t only suck huge-ass donkey balls, it decided to motorboat the balls, let itself be teabagged, and then opened up Grindr and messaged every other pair of donkey balls in a fifty-mile radius to come on down and get sucked, too
KnotMyProblem: Whoa
KnotMyProblem: that’s a lot of balls
The part of Jayne’s soul that hadn’t shriveled and died over the last several hours laughed, but didn’t make it to his lips. He considered it a good thing—by the way the kids’ heads had rolled forward, it looked like they’d gone from guard duty to comatose, and Jayne didn’t want to wake them.
GlitterDoctor: a fuckton of balls
KnotMyProblem: Perhaps even a metric fuckton, if we’re getting technical
Gwynning: And how does one measure a ‘metric fuckton’?
KnotMyProblem: Well shit, I mean you’d have to ask a Canadian or something. This is ‘Murica, Gwynn… we may borrow the metric system from time to time, but we don’t USE it.
Gwynning: Oh, that’s right. How could I have forgotten?
xVerity: Don’t feel bad. It’s a very easy thing to forget. It’s not like you’re a mathematician or anything.
Gwynning: Definitely not.
KnotMyProblem: But have no fear! I’ve consulted with my most trusted adviser, the internet.
KnotMyProblem: Note: an adviser is different from a grand vizier. I’d only give it a 50% chance the internet is evil and plotting my downfall as we speak
Jayne dropped his phone on his chest and pinched his lips, doing his best to hold back a coarse laugh that, no doubt, would have scared the children. While he hadn’t allowed himself to cry over the loss of his apartment, his tear ducts had drained all the same, and that meant that the next noise he made would sound like it had come from the phlegm-strung jaws of a slimy, light-starved nightmare creature lurking in the Challenger Deep. A laugh like that would scare the piss out of an adult man, never mind the two sweet angels whose hearts were as pure as newborn deer.
When he was sure that he could hold it together, he picked up his phone again and caught up with the conversation.
KnotMyProblem: According to the internet—which is always right, don’t even pretend like you don’t think that’s true—a metric fuckton is equivalent to ten shitloads. I don’t know about you guys, but that math makes sense to me
Gwynning: You’re right, that answers everything.
xVerity: If Gwynn agrees, it must be true. It all adds up.
KnotMyProblem: Mmhm. Those are measurements you can bank on. With precision like that, you know it’s only going to be a matter of time before we, as a species, master space travel and become overlords of the universe
KnotMyProblem: I hear there’s at least two trillion metric fucktons of uninhabited space out there we’ve yet to conquer
KnotMyProblem: But in all seriousness, I’m sorry that your day has sucked so badly. You want to share some of your shitloads of suckitude with us? It might help you feel like the teabagging wasn’t as bad as you originally thought
GlitterDoctor: That’s sweet of you, thanks, but I think right now I need to sit on it and figure out what my first steps will be
GlitterDoctor: that being said, you don’t have to worry about me. Things suck probably more than they ever have before, but I’m not planning on letting it hold me back
With his piece said, Jayne set his phone down and focused on what he had to do. Before long, Everett would leave to go retrieve Shep, Parker, and the Jag. After that…
After that, Jayne wasn’t sure what would happen to him, or to his family. Everett had been kind enough to invite him back to his place, but it wasn’t like Jayne could stay. Apart from the Single Dads, Jayne didn’t have friends he could turn to—Bastian had turned them against him, effectively isolating Jayne from everyone he’d once gone to for support. Simon was in California two time zones over, and Jayne didn’t trust the old Biernacki-mobile to not break down during the trip, especially not with so many dead zones between Aurora and Los Angeles. He could find an extended-stay hotel, but between the bills he had to pay, the food they’d need to eat, and the supplies he’d need to buy for Parker, paying to stay somewhere wasn’t a viable option.
Why the fuck was life so complicated? Jayne squeezed his eyes shut and forced a cry of frustration though his teeth as silently as he could.
Getting hung up on thewhywasn’t going to help. The more time he spent acting sorry for himself, the less time he’d have to find a solution. Once Shep and Parker had a safe place to sleep for the night, he could let himself fall to pieces. Until then, no matter how shattered he was, he had to keep himself glued together.
There was still a way he could fix this.
Jayne climbed off the couch and laid the kids down to nap. Not all was lost. With what few resources he still possessed, he could turn things around.
