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Some of Your Third-Grade Friend’s Best Lies, by Kyle Mooney - The New Yorker

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“The police sometimes ask my dad for his help to solve crimes.”

“There is a tunnel under my house that leads to the mini-mart. I can steal candy, if you guys need it.”

“Some of your favorite video games are based on drawings that I did.”

“My uncle is a millionaire and wants me to work with him.”

“I quit soccer because of my uncle and my work with him. It’s very important.”

“I told you what my uncle does. He works with computers.”

“Well, not exactly computers. Machines that can get you inside computers.”

“Yes, I’ve gone inside one.”

“It is true. If you come over to my house, I can show you.”

“No, today is not a good day.”

“No, I can’t today, either. My uncle is very mad.”

“Somebody is trying to steal his plans for the machine. He thinks it’s his old partner.”

“His name is Ernie Mancini. He used to be my uncle’s best friend. He has a big scar on his forehead. He’s very bad.”

“Correct. I can’t come to your birthday party because Ernie Mancini is looking for me.”

“No, it’s not because I spend weekends at my dad’s. Again, Ernie Mancini is a bad man. He has killed several people, and his soldiers are out to get me.”

“Listen, I like you. At school, we’re bordering on a best-friend relationship. The reason we never go to each other’s house is that I made the mistake of getting myself involved in my uncle’s business. Do you think I like being on the run from Ernie Mancini? Do you think I like having my molecules mixed up with computer data because of all the travel I do with the machine? The answer is no. And, as I said, my dad does not live forty-five minutes away. He lives here, with me and my mom and my annoying sister, Christina.”

“Your parents are wrong. If you don’t want to believe me, fine. But I also want to add—and I feel like an idiot saying this for, like, the hundredth time—that when you go inside a computer it’s best that you don’t wear name-brand clothes. That’s why you usually see me in this striped shirt all week, or in that oversized red one. I have better clothes at home. It actually kind of sucks how much name-brand stuff I have at my house. But, hey, I asked for this life, and, at the end of the day, my responsibility is to the war that’s being fought inside the computers.”

“Awesome! That actually works out better for me. I don’t really need a friend right now. The truth is that the rebels inside the computer have made me their chief, so I won’t really have time for the kid stuff that you and Bryce get into. Lyxia, probably the sexiest of the Datanoids, has been flirting with me on our cyber-safaris, so I, too, think it’s better that I focus on my own stuff. Which reminds me: I should probably recharge my Lust Sword. And also, just real quick, I am definitely allowed to eat things like fast food and pepperoni pizza. Someone was saying—I think it was Scott C., maybe?—that our family eats only healthy foods and generic oatmeal. Not true. We eat all the best kinds of bad stuff for you. I’m actually getting hungry just thinking about it. Of course, I also eat computer chips. That’s customary in Datanoid culture. And, real quick, my dad did not lose my family’s money and cheat with Kristen Hildreth’s mom and then get confronted by Kristen’s dad and lose a fight to him. Trax was saying (he’s my best friend and my sidekick in the computer world) that the whole Kristen’s-dad-fight thing was probably a rumor started by Dreadacore Warriors.”

“O.K., yeah, I’ll see ya, dude. Even though we’re taking a break from our friendship now, I’m sure we’ll rekindle it. We’re moving to Dallas after the summer. It’s a better place to hide from Dark Dread and his Dreadacore goons. But I promise that I’ll be easy to track down. Definitely won’t be a name that will haunt you for the rest of your life, with you intermittently looking it up through the years with no results.”

“Well, that’s my ride. No, not the bus. There’s a Speeder Pod just beyond it. Gotta go. Peace!” ♦

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Some of Your Third-Grade Friend’s Best Lies, by Kyle Mooney - The New Yorker
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