"I heard Clyde died."

"Good."

"That's horrible, Gina. How could you say that?"

"Well, he was an asshole. In 7th grade he always made fun of me. Whenever he saw me in the hallways he'd yell 'Hey itty bitty titty! Wanna come over and play today?' I hated him. He'd always grab my ass, too. Hard. It hurt. I hated that guy."

"That was just his special way of showing how much he liked you. He probably had a huge crush on you."

"Yeah, well, whatever. How'd he croak?"

"He had some strange disease. I didn't hear all the details, but the little I did hear was gruesome. He melted to death."

"Hold it, Barry. I don't buy it. Melted to death? How does that work?"

"Okay, check this out. He had allergies, right? According to what I heard, and I don't know if it's true, can't vouch for it or anything, but he uh... he had a weird reaction to Diet Coke.

"Diet Coke."

Yeah, Diet Coke. You know all the little bubbles?"

"Carbonation. Makes it fizzy."

"Yeah. Anyhow, when he digested the soda, the bubbles didn't pop. He had an ulcer, and his ulcer medication mixed with the sugar to change the consistency of the drink. The fortified bubbles couldn't be digested, and they snuck out through his ulcer hole into dark wet places between his internal organs. Little explorer bubbles, wandering around his guts. Eventually they got into his bloodstream and wreaked havoc all throughout his body. Most of them kept rising, just like in a can of pop. They went up to his shoulders, causing his flesh to blister and bubble. That was the first symptom. Not long after he drank it, he got a rash. Pimples, open sores, you name it. He started itching at them. He scraped off most of his shoulder skin, all the time hollering about pink cheese. I guess there was a lot of bloody pus and scum welling up, and when he attacked his swollen skin, the bubbles popped, splashing and leaking, like little wet volcanoes."

"That's bullshit. I don't believe it. Sounds like an urban legend. And it still doesn't sound bad enough to kill, just disfigure."

"Hey, like I said, I dunno if it's true. I'm just passing it along. Anyway, they got into his brain not long after that. Still, he didn't die right away, just lost control of his body. They found him naked on his living room floor. He was having a seizure, pissing on the carpet, shaking on top a pile of his own shit. His tongue was severed, lying on the carpet next to him, and as he whipped his head back and forth involuntarily, wet strands of blood would sling out of his mouth. The guy was a real mess. He must've died gurgling."

"I can believe that Clyde died like a mad dog, but the Diet Coke thing? No way. There must've been some other reason. Maybe somebody tested chemical weapons on him, or he took some bad heroin, or got electrocuted. Could be anything. But Diet Coke? No fucking way. Speaking of which, let's go hit the cafeteria. Got change for a five? I'm thirsty." 10:46 AM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm