Build-a-Boyfriend Workshop

"...oh yep. I feel it.” Judge said, dryly. “My white-y senses are tingling... It could be the chili sauce, but something is tingling."

CEO and I exchanged amused glances as we waited for our orders of dim sum.
“We haven’t eaten anything yet,” CEO giggled. “I promise it’s really good.”
“My eyes are watering. I can smell the capsaicin. I’mma die.” Judge sniffed. “My genes are too white… too bland for this.”
“You’re not gonna die, Judge.” I reassured her. “We got you.”

CEO reached for the hot pot in the middle of the table and poured herself a cup of tea. Humming contently to herself she stuck a straw in her teacup and sipped away.
“I’m glad we got to do this, guys.” she said in between sips. “It’s been too long.”

I looked over to the pair of my friends and couldn’t help but smile. It really has been a long time.

Judge continued to fidget, glancing anxiously around at the neighboring diners in the restaurant.
“What the fuck were you two thinking, bringing my vanilla-chai ass out into funky-spice town?” she hissed across the table. “I feel people judging me.”
“Everyone’s too busy eating their food, Judge.” I tried to reason with her. “That’s how good this food is!”
“Oh god I am sweating like a sinner in church.” Judge sniveled. To which I raised an eyebrow.
“Judge… you are the sinner in church.”
“Fine… I am sweating like a guy in Sephora, who’s girlfriend has his credit card.” she blurted.

“Judge, really, it’s gonna be awesome.” CEO said cheerfully. She finished off her cup of tea and reached for the pot again. “I think you’ll like dim sum.”
Judge calmed significantly at her words, and settled down in her seat. The only showing sign of her anxiety was the rapid drumming of her fingertips on the polished tabletop.
"Okay. I won't protest, cuz I trust you two.” she relented. “But I have many questions...”
Judge drifted off as her eyes fell over to the diners next to us. I saw her eyes widen. "Bitch, if you feed me chicken feet, I'm gonna set fire to the rain."
“I didn’t order any feet, Judge.” I told her. “Really, do I look like someone who would do that to you?”
Judge shrank back in a slouched position, scowling. Going by how she had pressed her lips into a hard line, she was not convinced. She grumbled suspiciously, faint distrust in her eyes.
“God, it’s like I am telling you to pull out your own teeth and eat them.” I laughed, shaking my head.

“Speaking of which, did you guys know that’s a pretty common dream?” CEO chimed. “The teeth falling out part… not the eating teeth part. It’s supposed to symbolize something…”
“I had a pretty wacky dream the other day, but it didn’t involve my teeth falling out.” I said. “I had one of my recurring nightmares.”
“Oooh, which one?” CEO asked. “Was is the guacamole man living in your basement?”
“No, not him.” I said.
“Was is the one where your sister drives you off the bridge?” Judge asked.
“No…”
“Or was it the one where you get a cursed underwear in the mail and you had to fly it like a kite?”
“That’s not a recurring dream but I am glad you remembered that one.” I said, trying not to remember. “The zombie shack one.”
Judge and CEO let out a unison chorus of ‘oooh…’ in understanding. CEO then let out a snort, grinning.
“Chubby bunny.” she teased.
“I know, I know…” I said. “Stupid, I know. But this time the dream was a bit different.”
“How so?” CEO asked.
“Stick-figure Captain Morgan made an appearance and told me to stop using the marshmallows.” I said.
The table became quiet, for no apparent reason. But that was until Judge made a comment.
“Last night I had a dream about a guy that sold me a drippy sausage-shaped double-headed dildo with a burnt end.” she said.

And as if to be on cue, the waiter came up to the table and started serving the food. Judge froze as CEO and I helped spread the plates across the table. It wasn’t until the waiter scurried off Judge spoke again.
“Well talk about great timing,” she muttered. That sent the rest of the table into a hushed laughter.
“He’s a cute waiter too.” CEO mentioned, helping herself to a plate of bok choy.
Judge groaned.
“Curse the sausage dildo man.” she said.
“It’s funny because you don’t even like sausage.” CEO noted, grinning.
“Wait, you don’t like sausage?” I questioned. “That’s funny, seeing that you’re German.”
“If people cannot believe in climate change, I cannot believe in the existence of sausage links.” Judge affirmed, poking at the dumpling CEO placed on her plate. “By the way, what is this?”
“Xiaolongbao.” I replied, just as I stuffed my own in my mouth.
“Yumm…” CEO hummed.
“The fuck you say about my mother?” Judge quipped.
“It’s a soup dumpling.” I said. “And let’s be real, you’ve said worse about your own mother. Now pass me the goddamn steamed pork buns.”

Judge shrugged in allowance and passed me the tin steamer. I picked one out and bounced it in my hands, avoiding getting burned.

“So why stick figure Captain Morgan?” Judge questioned. CEO glanced my way curiously, but didn’t say anything as she was preoccupied with a sesame ball.
I shrugged.
“I dunno. Though I think it had something to do with our last phone call.” I said, peeling the parchment off the bottom of the bun. “I was doodling a stick figure while we were talking, and I gave him an eyepatch.”
“Oh, when we were talking about double thrusters and carpets.” Judge commented.
“What?” CEO questioned, her interest piqued.
“No, you were talking about double thrusters and carpets matching drapes.” I corrected. I turned to CEO. “I called Judge the other day and we got to talking about creating… boyfriends.”
“Whoa, we can do that now?” CEO said, eyes wide. “Where the heck do I sign up?”
“She wanted to know if I could engineer a guy, what qualities I wanted.” Judge told her.
“Ah…I see,” CEO said. She took an impressive bite of her sesame ball before she continued. “So what did Captain America want in your dream.”
“Captain Morgan,” I corrected, but then I frowned. “Damn, that nightmare would’ve been much cooler if it was Captain Steve Rogers.”
“And? What did the Captain want?” Judge pressed.
“He… didn’t really say why he was there.” I said. “But he wanted a name change to something that wasn’t Captain Morgan… funny, right?”

CEO hummed, and Judge unceremoniously shoved another dumpling in her mouth.

“So… are you gonna do it?” CEO asked. “Are you gonna give him a different name?”
I stopped wrestling with the noodles on my plate. That was a weird question.
“Why?” I questioned.
“Well he did ask for a name change.” she said. “May as well, right?”
“It was just a nightmare, CEO.” I said. “I doubt he’s gonna be in my dreams again.”
“He might, he might not.” she returned. “I say give the stick-figure man a new name. You dreamed him up after all.”
“She does make a good point,” Judge pointed out. “He did show up in a recurring nightmare. That might mean he’s here to stay.”

I frowned, and glanced between my two friends.
“…You guys are serious,” I said. “You think I should name a figment of my overactive imagination.”

“Why not?” Judge said. “You know, this could be like your mind’s way of sorting some shit out. It’s not unheard of.”
“I agree with Judge,” CEO concurred. “It’s like that creative exercise from the creative writing class. It could be fun!”

“Fun…” I echoed. “So you guys don’t think this is weird? Crazy even?”

“Kyo, I don’t see any harm in it.” Judge said. “Just think of him as a character for one of your projects. Talk things out with him and develop him further. And like CEO said… it could be fun.”
“Besides, ‘Stick-figure Captain Morgan’ is an awful mouthful.” CEO added, ironically with her mouth full.

“Go with the flow, dude.” Judge said, echoing her last piece of advice. “Now, pass me the shau…shal…shaa… fuck it, pass me those juicy meat-filled butthole dumplings.”