u/taviddennant03

Ok guys, just hear me out please.

I (30M) am a psychologist practicing in San Francisco, and I'm very busy. My friend Johnny (?M) is getting married soon to his future wife Lisa (23F). They live in an apartment building they share with a drug-addicted lustful voyeur college student named Denny (18M) (it's amazing how many kids out there don't have parents!), and Johnny's best friend Mark (25M) comes over pretty often to have sex with Lisa on the stairs.

Johnny's been going through a rough time lately ever since Lisa claimed that Johnny hit her (which he did not). But you know what they say, love is blind. I did what I could, just playing psychologist and giving him some advice on the fallability of people right before I nearly got killed by Mark in a bout of reefer madness.

Anyway, we were all hanging out one day in tuxedos at Johnny's place when Denny suggested we throw the football around. I wasn't all that into the idea, but everyone started calling me a chicken, cheep cheep cheep cheep cheep cheep, and doing a chicken dance. I reluctantly went along with it. I like those guys fine, but I didn't want to mess up my nice tuxedo.

We were throwing the football around in the alley when one of them told me to go long, but as I ran in that direction, I tripped and fell. Denny even had the gall to call me clumsy. At this point, I had no interest in continuing to scuff up my nice suit, so I called it a day. After that, I vanished from existence and was replaced by an unnamed stranger at Johnny's birthday party. Sadly, Johnny killed himself after Mark and Lisa's affair was revealed and Johnny showed them by producing audio evidence of the affair right after all three of them had already argued about it.

If I still existed, I would feel really guilty about not being there for Johnny's final night. Maybe I could have saved him by playing psychologist. But it's also hard to be at a party when you don't exist anymore. Am I the asshole? What would you have done?