The dumpster behind Bunnies echoed with a soft thump as Randy V. Jade stumbled inside his home, hands bleeding through his gauze. He sprawled himself across the bags of garbage, sighed, and looked up at the dumpsters closed lid. How did he end up like this?

“By being an idiot, that’s how..” With that mummer, he grazed the Band-Aid on his head with his hand, feeling the fabric where the obscenity written by his doctor was scrawled. Nothing he did was able to scrub it off. In a way, it was similar to his own situation. No matter how hard he tried to wipe away his mistakes, he’d always be stuck with their consequences. His screen lit up dimly, and he grabbed his notebook to mark down that thought. He’d always liked feeling poetic, it made him feel smarter than he knew he was.

As he wrote, a thought appeared in his head. Had anyone actually cared about him prior to this? He’d been renting out this dumpster for a month now, and no one had really reached out about his sorry state. The most was Oliver helping him when he saw him fight off those wretched swans, but he’d never really check up on him. Isn’t that his own fault though? He had pushed him away in fear of losing him first. He wasn’t good enough friend for him.

He hadn’t even noticed that he was writing down all of this. He looked down, and then looked up again. He needed to change this! He was so afraid of change, of everything, but this was so much worse! Looking down at his notebook, his screen flashed with newfound determination. Remembering advice from a self-help commercial playing at Bunnies Burgers, he decided to list off things that he couldn’t live without. Randy Valentine Jade would be grateful, whether he wanted to or not

1. My family.

His family, huh? He hasn’t really talked to them in a while.. He’s been too afraid of disappointing his father. He still thinks he’s working to get a masters in Pharmaceutical Chemistry after all! Maybe he should hold off on calling them again.. but then would they even count? He’s clearly living without them right now, albeit miserably. Maybe he should put something else…

1. my family

1. My health

Well, he oughta be grateful for that, right? I mean, sure he’s scrawny and weak and on the verge of dying from the next thing that knocks against his plastic head, but at least he’s alive! Regrettably so. It’s a miracle he’s survived that wretched day! Then again, the Band-Aid on his forehead that caused him his unemployment was also the reason he was alive. Maybe that’s not as good as he would’ve liked… Oh! He’s got one for sure!

1. my family

1. My health

1. a roof over my head

Hm. Well, I guess you could call the lid of a dumpster a roof. He hates being in this filthy place, and him paying RENT in the first place is absurd. He must really be desperate if this is his idea of something to be grateful for.. Well. there has to be other ideas, right? He hesitates before writing the next one, still wracking his brain for any better ideas.

1. my family

1. My health

1. a roof over my head

1. my relationships

Well, that’s a bit of a dud, isn’t it? He has barely any friends at this point, Oliver’s drifting away, and the whole situation that got him in this mess was from a date gone awry. Good phone-God, it’s like any interaction with others he tries ends up ruining his life! Why even try.. No! He has to be grateful damnit, he can’t let the rest of his life be like this! He’s even more pathetic than he was, he can’t let this be the norm! Furiously scrawling out that one, he scribbles in the margins for ideas.

The fact I can breath?

The air in Dialtown is pure smog and tastes like meth, he was NOT putting that as an option.

The food I eat?

Randal feels like he’s lost 100 pounds this month alone, and he was already scrawny prior. He’s barely eaten anything, and the little he does eat is half eaten left overs from the patrons in front of his home.

None of this works! Just as he’s about to throw the paper and pencil and sob from frustration, his head bolts up as he hears his possum enter his home. Company! That could count!

1. my family

1. My health

1. a roof over my head

1. my relationships

1. that one possum that keeps SCREAMING PHONE-GOD MAKE IT STOP

That doesn’t work either, it drains his will to live every time he sees the accursed thing!  Nothing he puts applies! Is there anything in this phone-God-forsaken world that’s keeping him from biting the bullet?! Why isn’t he dead yet, what is one actual reason he is not dead yet-
Wait.. oh.

1. my family

1. My health

1. a roof over my head

1. my relationships

1. that one possum that keeps SCREAMING PHONE-GOD MAKE IT STOP

1. My cowardice

Ah. That tracks. That tracks to a T really. He wonders how he didn’t think of that before, really. He hasn’t accomplished much of anything, has he? His whole life has been motivated by his one survival instinct, one that he’s grown to loathe. Isn’t that funny? The thing most would count as a flaw is the only thing keeping him here. He wonders what that says about being alive in the first place. He gets a call on his phone and comes to realize he’s too scared to think on it anymore lest he truly does give up. Answering the call for his dead-end phone sex job, he comes to realize something.

“H-hey, my name is Randy Jade, and I’m feeling Randy for YOU tonight!”

Sure, he despises working as a second-rate prostitute and as an ineffectual animal wrangler, but the worst those jobs could do is kill him, and that’s probably best for everyone,

“… I’m sorry, my boss forces me to say that...”

including himself.