It was a dumb idea, but one of those dumb ideas that accidentally turns out to be brilliant–which, I’ve come to realize, is much worse than being dumb. My name’s Antsy Bonano–but you probably
already know that–and unless you got, like, memory issues, you’ll remember the kid named the Schwa, who I told you about last time. Well, now there’s this other kid, and his story is a whole
lot stranger. It all started when Gunnar Ümlaut and I were watching three airborne bozos struggle with a runaway parade balloon. That’s when Gunnar tells me he’s only got six months to live.
Maybe it was because he said he was living on borrowed time, or maybe it was just because I wanted to do something meaningful for him, but I gave him a month of my life . . .
