Harold Steals Jeff: Grand Theft Series

Harold has entered the building. He’s here. He’s playing with Jeff. He brought his own Xbox, TV, cable cords, and copy of Grand Theft. He’s hooked up to our router and now is busy trying to kill Jeff in Liberty City. Likewise, Jeff is busy trying to kill Harold. At the moment, Harold is driving a stolen police car, and Jeff is driving a green Comet. It is a battle of Grand Theft Auto IV great proportions. It has been reported to me that Harold, who is a sergeant in the U.S. Army, is incredibly skilled at video games as this is his favorite pastime while not busy defending the country. Jeff wishes he were as skilled. Harold beats Jeff often. Jeff is eager to kill Harold one day.

This is my Grand Theft life.

I’ve mentioned that our apartment is small. It’s really small. There is nowhere I can walk without being in the way. I am eternally in the way. The room is filled with gunning motors, Harold laughing, Jeff yelling, and women screaming as they dodge out of the way of this Grand Theft death match. Both boys are within physical spitting distance of each other as they dive into Liberty City and I become a shadow. And so I write. Maybe I write that Harold is picking his nose? Maybe I write that Jeff has a vicious bout of danger gas that is threatening all of us by filling our decent air with foul invisible matter? Maybe I write that. They will not know. They are gone to me now.

Harold came in the door with his guitar and poured himself a drink. Then they went to work.

As soon as my twin Hario, that’s what I call him (if I’m not calling him buttface), arrived, he and Jeff set about hooking up the game systems and TVs. Hario is on his way down to visit Mom and Dad in Florida where he will play more Xbox. He’ll golf by day and play Xbox by night. He’s eventually on his way to Signal school in Georgia. He’s going to be that guy in the movies who tells the star of the movie that something unexpected, unusual, and unknown is heading our way. He’ll be that guy with headphones who gets the one liner that acts as catalyst for the climax in the movie. Harold is totally going to be in movies. At least he will be when I write him into one—wearing those headphones that probably are not really headphones. Headgear. Head something. Something is headed our way, he’ll yell … and everyone will look concerned and the director will cut to the star of the movie who will show more concern than anyone else. The star will probably also squint his eyes in mock concentration. Anyhow, Harold will be the one who starts all that by his keen observations.

That’s my twin.

So they sit in the living room now, chasing each other and trying to do one another in. Tomorrow night, I’ll make myself scarce. I’ll go and hang out with my mother-in-law to drink wine and gossip. I’ll let them be alone in their Grand Theft dream world. I hope they kill each other good and enjoy it to its fullest.

I put together a lasagna so that Jeff can throw it into the oven tomorrow night to feed them both. They will eat like video kings while under my roof. Whether I’m here or not, Harold will have a home cooked meal. If they both end up shooting each other to death in Liberty City, it will, at least, be on a full stomach of home-cooked lasagna.

Good luck, Boys. May the best man not die such a brutal death and maybe fly a helicopter. And maybe one of them will get lucky with a video girl. Sky's the limit today in this small apartment.