Points of view

E: “Hello?”
M: “Erik?! It’s Melton!”
E: “Hi Melton, tell me ever...”
M: “There's no time to lose! I need to talk to you, something crazy happened at my father-in-law’s place! I lost control and had to do it!!”
E: “Melton, calm down! You know we don't talk about these things over the phone!”
M: “Yes, I know, I know… Fuuuu, I need to calm down, now I have to…”
E: “Now you just need to meet me, I know how to handle these things! Meet me at 2-2-8-4-7 Backstreet Boys Road, at the corner with Fifth, near the intersection with 6-5-4 Boulevard of Broken Dreams.”
M: “Damn it, Erik! You’re always my best buddy, see you soon.”

🎶🎶🎶

M: “Erik, thank God you’re here!”
E: “I’m here for you, old buddy! Tell me everything, what happened?”
M: “It’s a mess, Erik, I don’t know how to get out of this... how will I face my wife, my kids…”
E: “Melton, Melton, damn it! Don’t lose your cool! We saw worse in Vietnam!”
M: “No, Erik, you don’t understand, nothing was worse than having to do that... I couldn’t hold back, not even in front of my father-in-law… I was in so much pain trying to suppress that carnal, human impulse deep in my guts; I felt like I was going to implode. It had to come out, or I would’ve died fighting it... and so... my father-in-law... is…”
E: “Breathe, Melton, breathe… no one is judging you. After Vietnam, our brain tissue was bombarded with sights and scenes that even hell wouldn't depict. Remember when we had to drink from a puddle of blood because it was the only liquid we could consume at the time… not even our own urine…”
M: “Of course, I remember… But you know I never really minded the urine.”
E: “Heh, you never change, old fox. I also enjoyed aiming for your mouth, even more when you moved like a seal when I missed on purpose.”
M: “Ahhh, good times… Unlike this situation, which I really don’t know how to solve, help me, Erik!”
E: “Don’t worry, Melton, I know how to keep a secret! Because… it happened to me too.”
M: “WHAAAAT???”
E: “Shhh, be quiet! Only you know! All because… after the war, I couldn’t be myself anymore. I changed. But by force, not by will. I became a monster. Simply put, I became what the uniform made me believe I wasn’t, what it made me call ‘work’ that thing... All the evil acts I committed were passed off as ‘peace missions,’ but every day I asked myself: how does War bring Peace? What is Peace? As I was always taught, peace is when no one causes trouble; and if you need to use force to silence those who speak, it is still Peace if the one in charge holds the sacred Bible in their right hand and the god Money in their left. Easy, right?
But no, because once the uniform was off, the monster didn’t stop licking my ear. My eyes drank from its source so much that I evolved into the monster itself. But its warmth makes me feel serene, calm, composed… Just satisfying it makes me happy, so why not do it? There’s something perverse in this reasoning of mine, a certain masochistic note wets my soul. But every time I satisfy my monster self, it feels like the first time, and for a brief moment, in a small point of light, I can think it’s only the first time… and my soul starts to scream, stopping its torment for an instant.”
M: “Damn, Erik, you’ve always been good with the bullshit, but this takes the cake.”
E: “Modestly.”
M: “Listen, I need to ask you something… I need to get this weight off my chest, tell someone… I need to let out my burden to see it better, and you’re the only one I feel like telling.”
E: “Come here, you rascal, hug me! ... .... ahahaha, it always makes me laugh your penis-penis move when we hug.”
M: “You know only real men do that!
Anyway, I propose something: on my count of 3, let’s shout out our sins together, so loud that even God Himself can hear us and forgive us instantly!”
E: “Alright, Melton, I’m in! In the name of GOD!”
M: “On my count of 3!!!

3…
2..
1.
.

Erik: “I KILLED MY FATHER-IN-LAW BY MAKING HIM SWALLOW MY MILITARY DECORATIONS!”

Melton: “I FARTED REALLY LOUDLY DURING A FAMILY DINNER WHILE TOASTING WITH MY FATHER-IN-LAW!”

E: “WHAAAT??”
M: “WHAAAT??”

{Hint by JJ: now look at Sir P’s artwork}

M: “... and I also soiled my underwear…”
E: “Yuck, aren’t you ashamed?!”