"Walton Myatt, what in the seven hells are you still doing here? Look at you! I didn't even realize you could gain even more weight!" I smiled a little as I heard the voice of someone I always considered my second-best friend. After the grass.

I made a slow turn towards him on the moist ground. My rain boots making sucking noises as I pulled them out of the wet clay. There was no denial, I had gained more weight after Shannah's death. I did not enjoy cooking as much as I enjoyed eating. Microwave dinners came a long way over the years. The local fast-food chain being right around the corner did not help much towards any diet efforts either. Alas, I might not see my feet anymore while I lost sight of my crotch a long time ago.

Halfway around, my second-best friend slapped me on the shoulder. His big hand tenderizing my shoulder meat, my face scrunching up into a scowl as my cigarette fell into the wet blades of glory. A stain on its beauty. The man had the habit to forget I was seventy-four already. He also had the habit of smiling too much for his own good.

"Ah Terrence, you almost gave me the chance to forget you existed. I was so glad you gave me that chance. Why did you have to ruin it?" Terrence Wickham looked as out of place as one could be. His size was enormous, his shoulders and chest something to be proud of for someone half his age. I had always wondered how he found the time and motivation to keep himself fit like that. It was something I admired most in the man. My shoulder being assassinated was not in the things to admire about the man. "And why the fuck did you have to break my shoulder in two! You muff."

For some reason that eluded me, he kept smiling as I turned my fat body in his general direction. His eyes small, his cheekbones high and puffed. His jaws lacking somewhat in width and his nose lacking any elegance as it obscured half his face. The man's smile big enough to ask myself if he knew I would not be seeing him anymore after today.

The man didn't wait for my inner dialogue to finish as he laughed out loud. A little too loud for the tiny amount of comfort I had left in my body. Tightening his grip on the shoulder he was still holding. The grip had nothing to do with the fifty-five-year-old he was supposed to be. It felt more like a bear trap. I tried to wiggle myself out of his steel grip but was useless against it. A grimace of pain spread across my face as my legs almost lost control of the weight I had accumulated over the years. The clay and my best friend, the grass, bringing me dangerously close to a collapse. It would have been telling for the point in life I had arrived at. For a long while now I had only my voice to keep the vultures at bay. It was clear the vultures had lost their fear.

"Ah, I will enjoy watching you leave, you sack of shit. You have been a thorn in my side for far too long." His smile never left his face as his hand left my shoulder. I was almost grateful that the pain in my shoulder gave me an excuse to show the pain his words had caused in me. My round face turning the grimace into a hurt look that was not one bit acted. I had considered this man a friend. It was telling that the only person I had given that label too was now celebrating my day of bitter regret. "I'm glad we feel the same, Terrence. I will try to get you some tissues. With me leaving you will have no intelligent person left in your sphere of influence. And yes, I included your wife."

It was a weak comeback. I was not as sharp as I used to be. My tongue had dulled as my mind paid the prize for living an indulgent life. I should have known better. It was better to say nothing than to give people even more ammunition against you. Especially someone you had considered a friend for too long. The smile on Terrence face only broadened. Now even showing underneath his massive snuffer. "Ow Walton. Do you think I give a fuck about you or what you might think of my sphere of influence?" He looked around gesturing in a scene appropriate, dramatic way "Just like this place is dead to me, so are you. It might once have held some important meaning for me. Maybe even irreplaceable. But now it is an antic of the past. No one plays in the real anymore. Sure, some still fancy an hour or two a month when they get bored, but the game is dead in the real. Murdered by its own greed and conservative nature." He sneered.

The worst part was that he was right. It had been going downhill anywhere between twenty to thirty years ago. Youths didn't want to play outside anymore. Parents didn't want their offspring breathing in polluted air. Not with an alternative. Thus, the number of young talents playing on real, moist and natural grass went down by the year. Digitized, was the word I believe. I would need to ask George sometime. He had made the switch a few years ago after retiring in the real and was fairly successful. Or so I had heard. I might have been a bit of a dinosaur. I felt a great need to smell my best friend or the soul would leave the game. It was the main reason I stood here today, saying goodbye to my place of work.

At least, that was what I was doing before being caught in this abrupt interruption by the suck up I had sold my share of this place to. I had made a fatal mistake and now it was too late. My anal cavity was already full of smoke without me knowing, and there was no way to send it back towards its owner. The image of sending whatever was in my anal cavity down the man's throat made a small smile return to my pain-stricken face. The man in question though did not know what the smile meant and thus interpreted it all wrong. "Ah, you can still smile. Well, I will give you that at least. Let's see if you can keep that up once I finish building a hundred luxury apartments on top of your beloved grass. So long sucker."

His shovel sized hand zapped through the air. I already knew it was coming the moment he finished his sentence. But something had snapped, and broke me before the hand even arrived. It slapped me on the same shoulder that still throbbed in pain. My balance shifted to the left. The bulk I had created over the last few decades brought its friend, gravity, along. Before I knew it, my head hit the dirt, my vision a little blurry but not from the crash. They would turn my best friend into concrete. Tears streaked passed my bloated cheeks as I let out all the emotions I was holding in till then. I sobbed as someone who I once considered a friend walked away. Threading over the best friend it was about to destroy forever. Leaving me behind, a sobbing mess, hugging the only love that stood by me for all those years. This was the end.