Neko Case - "Never Turn Your Back On Mother Earth"
Sparks - "Never Turn Your Back On Mother Earth"

The name of the game was "Gotta Do It". The rules were simple: someone would name a deed (it could be something normal like "eat grass" or it could be something weird like "climb up Dead Dog's Tree and scream the name of your True Love") and point to a person and then the rest of the watching group would whisper "Gotta do it!" over and over until they, the chosen boy or girl, did it. Dickie had watched many a game of Gotta Do It from afar, and would watch with curiosity, thankful separation, or unbearable envy, as the various "do its" were acted out. He came to school that morning with a very particular "do it" in mind. He spent all of science class unable to focus his microscope, his hands were shaking and his eyes felt sweaty, blurry. He couldn't eat breakfast that morning, he dumped his oatmeal in the toilet after his parents left for work. "Take off your jacket, Dickie," said Mrs. Greg, the wiry science teacher, he hadn't noticed he'd left it on, "you're not outside yet."

At the bell he flew out the door and stood in the center of the field, the usual location for a good game of Gotta Do It. Since he had never actually played a game before, the other children all cast glances at Dickie standing on that spot and thought there must not be a game today, since Dickie was standing there and no one else. He started shouting, "Hey! Game time! Hey guys, game time!" A few straggled closer, with furrowed brows. "Bring Walter! Hey guys, game time, bring Walter!"

Walter Hannigan, 8-and-a-half years old, was a regular player of Gotta Do It. He had brilliantly thought up the "do it" of "steal Mrs. Greg's cigarettes", which was one of the all-time greatest do its the game had ever seen. Mrs. Greg kept her outdoor cigarettes (she had a pack for indoors and outdoors, depending on where she was doing duty that day) inside a little metal door meant for a water pipe, a small tap covered in a hinged metal door that had just enough resting place for a pack of cigarettes. Tina Dion had stolen them, and everyone smoked one each, they coughed and laughed and did Mrs. Greg impressions.

The gang gathered, skeptical of Dickie's idea to play Gotta Do It, but they gathered nonetheless, including Walter Hannigan. A few do its got handed out (stand on your head and say the alphabet backwards, do the stupidest voice you can think of, say "fuck" as loud as you can) and then it was Dickie's turn. He glanced furtively around, and then pointed at Walter, "This one's for Walter," his hand shaking in the wind. "Kiss me." The group fell silent. No one laughed. They all seemed to think about it, pause, look at Walter, think about it, pause, and then whisper. "Gotta do it. Gotta do it. Gotta do it. Gotta do it!" The whisper-shouting was deafening, Dickie's head was throbbing and his blurred vision was getting blurrier. Walter looked around easily, shrugged, stepped closer to Dickie, held his breath and planted a kiss on him. His lips hung there, and all Dickie could see were all the things he hated: the light-up shoes, the expensive clothes, the sugary lunches, the hundreds of girlfriends, all start to fade to white like they were covered in light instead of covered in pitch darkness. He almost made it out, he almost just got a kiss from the most popular boy in school, but then he remembered his plan. It was too devilishly good, thought Dickie, he was unable to control the completion of his plan. Having Walter finally this close, he snapped out his teeth and bit down on Walter's cheek. For what seemed like an hour, Dickie hung there, teeth sunk deeply into Walter's face. When they were finally pulled apart, Dickie had a fair chunk of Walter's cheek left in his mouth, and as he emerged from his cathartic stupor and the gravity of the situation began to dawn on him, embarrassed, he swallowed it.

[Buy Neko Case's Middle Cyclone]
[Buy Sparks' Propaganda]

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trailer for Episode 5 of The Bitter End
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