Foshawn

Titanium_Jims’ #1 Kongregate friend.

“fuzzymunkey1: CPT > foshawn. just sayin”

I had just under a week until game time, and that made it all the worse, as I don’t do well with anticipation, or whatever that feeling is that is like anticipation but less positive. Dread? I don’t do well with dread. I could back out, but how would that be funny? On the other hand, what if some dude grabbed my ding dong? That question plagued me nonstop. And here’s the thing — it’s not due to homophobia, it’s entirely due to grossophobia. What if it’s a dude with a big, cruddy beard and unclean fingernails? His massive, callused hands yellowed from smoking, his eyes rheumy and spiderwebbed with tiny, red veins as he ogles my supple young body. He moves toward me, ample hips swaying like a slow motion Santa Claus caught mid-Macarena, as his flaccid member sways about like a golf ball in a nylon stocking pinned to a fence post in the breeze.

Now for some helpful advice from my banker friend:
Freddie: Where’s your primary banking relationship at?
Me: Mine?
Freddie: Yes.
Me: I don’t trust em, I keep all my money in my walls.
Freddie: You don’t want to get paid to store it elsewhere? Bro.
Freddie: FDIC Insured. Up to 250K.
Me: Let Obamacare try and take it from my cold dead fingers.
Freddie: Your money is safe with Freddie.
Freddie: You wanna collect dust on those bills or you wanna collect more dollars?
Me: Freddie? Is that another name for Obama?
Freddie: Idk about you but I’m allergic to dust so…
Freddie: Here’s my card, call me when you wanna start heading in the right direction. We have free coffee too by the way.
Freddie: Fo you know what I find interesting?
Freddie: Interest. High-interest in a checking account.
Me: Wat
Freddie: A CHECKING ACCOUNT. We have those.
Me: What’s that? I don’t trust Obama you know.
Freddie: Listen, a guy once never told me “I hate earning money on cash I already have”
Freddie: Listen Fo, it doesn’t have to make sense. As long as it makes dollars.
Freddie: Here’s my card. Call me when you wanna head in the right direction.
Freddie: I’m on the corner of braker and stonelake. Street name changes to broker the moment I pull in though.
Me: Wait, what if I wanted 17% interest? Is that a thing?
Freddie: This isn’t 19foreverdecadeago
Me: But aren’t you supposed to cater to my needs?
Freddie: We’ll pay YOU to keep money in a liquid account. If I’m making you money, I’ve already catered to your needs. Do you need money? I do, and I do my job right.
Freddie: So please. Here’s my card.
Me: Your job is to cater to my needs. Because I’m a red blooded American and I’ll be damned if I’ll let some Prussian bank swindle away my money on cocaine.
Freddie: My job is to establish a mutual relationship in which we both benefit.
Me: So you’re a parasite. Come try and take my money fucker.
Freddie: I’m an establisher of secure financial needs. Here’s my card.
Me: I’ll take your card when you shake my hand.
Freddie: Where’s my hand sanitizer? Oop got a travel sized one, in the pocket underneath my lapel.
Freddie: Here’s my card.
Me: I want to speak to your manager.