Eric Stoltz was ridiculously drunk. He had started with beer, just, like, four or five beers around 2PM, or maybe it was 3PM, but it was definitely two or three PM and it was definitely not a big deal. But then there had been the pre-dinner cocktails, and a bottle of wine with dinner, and then he’d settled into a bottle of scotch, and it actually wasn’t until he was out of ice and had accidentally let the tumbler slip out of his hand where it smashed on the ground and forced him to drink from the bottle because that was his last tumbler and this was not a particularly rare thing to be dropping them that he realized he hadn’t actually eaten dinner, or lunch for that matter, and he tried to think of when the last time was that he actually ate but drew a blank and eventually forgot what he was even trying to think about in the first place, and that’s when he booted up his computer. He logged on to his preferred (for the moment) subscription porn site and jerked off real quick just to get that out of the way, and then he just started click around and muttering things to himself. Things like, “shouldafuckenbeenme” and “everyonemakesmistakesEricandjusthavesomefaiththatGodhasaplanforyou.”
It was Wednesday night.
After a brief perusal of the Eric Stoltz message board that Eric Stoltz had a friend set up for him and which did not get nearly as many vibrant Eric Stoltz discussions going as Eric Stoltz had thought it would, with most forums containing only one or two posts, usually from Stoltz himself, raising topics such as “WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE STOLTZ OUTFIT?” and “CAMPAIGN FOR STOLTZ TO HOST SNL“, he turned his attention to the larger Internet outside of the Stoltz intranet BBS. Soon enough, following a surprisingly short string of non-sequiturial Google searches and hyperlink clicks, Eric Stoltz ended up on noveltycarfinder.com, typed in DeLorean, found one being sold by a man in Wisconsin (the listing featured a photo of the man standing next to the car, which was parked crosswise across his lawn in front of a drab and depressing one-story house), added it to his cart, and clicked “buy.”
“Haha,” Eric Stoltz said, coughing hard and feeling the burn of a little throwup at the back of his throat. “That’s fucking hilarious,” he said.
He found the seller’s email address and wrote him the following:
Subject: Eric car hi
Hi this Eirc Stolzt, i bught the care but i have r questin. Doe it run on vetgetbles? LOL!
Eric Stoltz logged in to a different subscription porn site and clicked around for awhile (two hours) but couldn’t get hard again, so he shut the computer down and walked into the bathroom. He passed out on the toilet for awhile with a toothbrush in his mouth. At one point, he woke up, although he was still quite drunk, but it seemed to be daylight out. He flopped onto his bed with his pants around his ankles and the toothbrush still lolling out of the side of his mouth. When he woke up again he sat up and rubbed his face. He held the wall as he made his way into the office to check his email, skim some headlines on HuffPo, and take a look to see if any new porn had been uploaded while he was sleeping. In the night, and the better part of the day, the seller of the DeLorean had responded to his email in a pretty straight-forward manner, asking him to send a certified check and wondering if he lived in Wisconsin, but in either case generally inquiring how and when he planned to pick up the car.
Eric Stoltz’s eyes were blurry and he had to read the email a few times. “Fuck,” he said. “Another DeLorean? Get it together, Stoltz.” His chair creaked.