“
Hanna started to laugh uncontrollably. "Now," Bobby told her, "say, 'I'm a dying cockroach.'"
Again Hanna stopped and rolled over. "Do what?" she asked.
"You were doing good, Girl. Don't stop. Please don't stop. Quick, get back on your back."
It was his patience with her that finally convinced her to go on with the foolishness.
"That's it. Wiggle. Wiggle. Now, say, 'I'm a dying Cockroach.'"
"I cant."
"Yes you can. Say it. Say it."
Hanna started laughing so hard she could not stop.
"I'm a dying cockroach." she managed to say.
"I'm a dying cockroach, " Bobby repeated. "Say it again. Say it over and over. I'm a dying cockroach, I'm a dying cockroach. Say it."
"I'm a dying cockroach," Hanna began.
"Keep wiggling. Wiggle. Wiggle. I'm a dying cockroach."
"I'm a dying cockroach. I'm a dying fucking cockroach!"
Bobby spent nearly half an hour putting Hanna through the exercise he had experienced in the Marine Corps. He was satisfied when finally she began to scream uncontrollably as she flailed about the floor hysterically in absolute absurdity. Tears were pouring over her face. It was then that Bobby fell over her and began to hug and hold her and kiss her cheeks. "You did it!" Girl, you did it. See?" After she came back to her senses and calmed down, Bobby explained why he put her through the ordeal. "How do you feel?" he asked her.
Hanna smiled and said. "Weird. I made a fucking fool of myself."
"Great," said Bobby. "That was the point. See, you got outside yourself. You lost your ego."
Hanna was starting to understand. "I did, didn't I? I let go. I honestly let go of everything. I didn't care. I didn't give a shit for nothing. It felt great. Shiiiitttt!" she screamed into her hands. "I'm a fucking dying cockroach. And I don't give a shit about nothing."
"Anything," Byron said from the kitchen.
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