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Homer

“School shooting! Three and eleven!” Homer calls off the tape. The floor explodes.

“Gimme two points!”

“Six! Family in the area!”

“Two and one!”

“Six in two, teacher’s union!”

“A dime!”

Homer’s busy tossing out chips, but he shoots a skeptical look toward that one.

“I know a victim. ‘S parent,” she says defensively.

“Downed or dead?”

“… Downed.”

He rolls his eyes and throws her six.

“Three on three!”

“Twos! All the twos you’ve got!”

“All right, all right.” Homer shoves out the last points and grabs fresh ticker. “We got a mudslide in Chile, sixty-three and rising!”

Somebody coughs.

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