Trouble In A Bubble.

Keats Petrelli

“Hey buddy – aren’t you the one who thinks that everyone is out to beat him up? Aren’t you the guy who thinks that everyone is out to kill him?” The little man leaned across the full table with a huge grin on his face at Chad, the fellow who had just sat down to chat up Lancastra.

“Damn,” I thought. “Why is Keats being such a cunt?”

Keats Petrelli was a 5’2″ bolt of energy. Highly motivated. Highly driven. Highly strung. He’d recently been promoted to regional manager of In-selligence Marketing.

Bryson stood up and said “Hey it’s okay mate, don’t worry, we’re not going to kill you. Relax, alright?” and laughed with Keats.

“Sure, whatever,” said Chad.

“What the fuck,” I said. “Did Bryson just try to start a fight with you or something?”

“No, don’t worry about it,” he said, and turned back to keep chatting Lancastra.

Keats didn’t quit. “Hey mate! I think it’s great that you’re talking to Castra. You couldn’t have picked a better girl to talk to.”

I remember the first time I saw Castra. A skinny brunette who had an inch on me. Well dressed, expressive. A vision of playful loveliness. Then she burped in my face and stuck her tongue out at me. Everybody thought that Castra should apply to be on “Ladette to Lady”. Chad was talking to her now was obviously in the pre-burp phase of “Getting To Know Castra”

“For me, it’s all about personality. Sure I can see a girl and be attracted to her. But to really know if a girl is hot, I need to get to know her,” said Chad in a lilting voice. Blah blah blah.

Chad got up and went back to his friends in the corner.

Castra turned to me and said “Fuck man… I was just talking to him. I wasn’t fucking him. Keats should settle the fuck down.”

Samberg said to Keats “Man… what was all that about?”

“I’ll tell you what all that was about,” said Keats. “I was just walking out of the toilet with Bryson, and that guy grabbed me,” and grabbed Samberg by the shirt, “and said ‘Hey, did you just say you wanted to fight me? I heard that you just said you wanted to kill me?’”

Keats released Samberg. “Okay man… what the fuck. Be cool.” Samberg was a passive dancing raver dude who always talked in a relaxed voice.

Sitting next to Castra was Antoine “Puma” Pumas. Puma said “This is bullshit.” He got up and walked around the table and stood over Keats. “What are you doing? What is wrong with you?”

Bryson stood up to interrupt. “Sit the fuck down,” said Puma. “This has got nothing to do with you.

“I know Castra is a dickhead – we all know it. But so what? At least she’s still cool to hang out with when she’s drunk. Not like you – you’re being a fucking cocksucker Keats!” Puma was fuming. His face was red. He stood over Keats for a long ten seconds saying nothing, until Lister dragged him off and tried to calm him down.

Keats sat there for a moment, and eventually got up and said to Puma that they should go outside and talk.

Bartleby turned to me and said “Man… what just happened? I am ripped off my face right now.”

After I explained, Bartleby said “Keats is such a snake. He put through my entire training group. Near the end, he took me aside and told me that I was the one he expected great things from, that he expected me to make lots of sales. Down the line I found out he’d said that to each and every one of us.”

“Ha yeah. Sounds like something he’d do. I still like him though.”

“Yeah, me too. I just wouldn’t trust him. You wouldn’t trust him with say, a really nice pen. Like he’d borrow a pen from you and you’d ask for it back and he’d say ‘Geez, it’s just a pen. Buy a new one.’ And I’d say ‘You earn more than me, you buy a new one so I can borrow it off you.’”

Keats came back in and apologised to Castra, and told her she was the most beautiful thing in the world or some shit.

After that, Castra was hanging off Puma all night. Kinda funny, cos I thought he had a girlfriend.

Related Posts:

• No Related Posts