staring at each other in disbelief.
“I can't believe it,” John said. “That novelty toilet bank actually did it! We've switched bodies!”
“This is so strange,” Matthew walked around the parking lot in daze, flexing his hands and staring at them as if they were alien appendages. “I think you've gotten fat. I feel heavier. This isn't possible! How can I be in your body?”
“Don't matter dink-breath, it is what it is,” John stated. “I'm going to go live the dream and find me the cheapest goddamn truck stop hooker I can find and have me some cheap, cheap sex.”
“What a minute,” Matthew shouted as John started making his way towards the intersection. “You can't do that! You're married.”
“I don't see a ring on this finger,” said John, holding up his middle finger and waggling at Matthew. “How much tail do you think a couple of Slim Jims is gonna get me?”
“Fine, you want to play it that way than we can play it that way,” Matthew began to walk rapidly up the street in the opposite direction. John stopped.
Matthew's (John's) pale pink polo shirt was bouncing off into the night. John waited, looking back and forth between his ringless finger and the rapidly shrinking shirt that he remembered buying from the Gap. His face twisting with rage, he began to run.
“That's my shirt, asshole,” he said when he caught up. He even sounded petulant to himself.
“And you're wearing mine,” Matthew said, as he rapidly walked down the sidewalk. John, in Matthews body, easily kept pace beside him. “Wanna switch? Better do it now before I do what I'm going to do.”
“And what exactly are you going to do?” John asked. “You gonna lift some weights, maybe do a couple of crunches, while I'm off getting your dick squeezed by some of the worst examples of womanhood on the planet?”
“Then what are you going to do?”
“Everything,” Matthew stopped and glared at his brother. “Every horrible, terrible drug I can find. When you get this body back you are going to be so addicted that you are going to become one of the hookers you find tonight.”
“Hey, at least I won't be crawling with disease. Your penis is going to drip like an old faucet by the time I'm done. And then, when I'm done slipping pipe to every meth addled junky this side of the freeway, you know what I'm going to do next?”
“Two words,” John sneered, wagging two fingers under Matthew's nose. “Fight. Club.”
“Ha!” Matthew barked, slapping John's hand out of his face. “So what, you're going to build a time machine and go back to 1998 are you?”
“I don't think I'll have to look too hard to find someone to kick the shit out of you.”
“Okay, okay, fine,” Matthew rocked back on his heels and smiled. “While you're off getting laid and beat up, you know what I'll be doing?”
“Can't wait to find out.”
“Your wife,” Matthew whispered as he leaned close, his (brother's) nose almost touching his brother's (his).
“That's your sister-in-law, man,” John said, disgusted. “That's actually kind of sick.”
“Oh you don't know how sick it’s gonna get. I'm totally going in through the backdoor, man. You know what I mean by backdoor?”
“Yeah, I think I cracked your secret code, shithead,” John snapped. The fight seemed to leave him a bit and he jammed his hands into his khaki shorts. His brother's khaki shorts. Looking up and down the street he noticed an all-night diner across the intersection. “I'm hungry. You want some waffles?”
“Yeah, with your money.”
The two walked along the sidewalk towards the diner, not looking at each other.
“This is weird.”
“Yeah. But imagine how much weirder it would be if we weren't identical twins.”