Friday, October 28, 2011

IV

Foot. Where?

The world had fully come into focus. He could see them now. All of them, and hear them clearly. All his senses were back, and he could tell he was laying in a bright red puddle of sweet cherry-flavored fluid.

That's from me, he thought.

His friends answered him.

He's not here.

His eyes darted around and he saw it to be true.  LearnedFoot was not there.  But where could he -

HEY!!!!!! CAN WE PULL PLUG ON THIS CORMAC MCCARTHY CRAP!!!! IT GIVE ME HEADACHE!!!!!

Yeah.  It's pretty pretentious too.  Knock it off.

Can we at least go to Conversational Script Mode?

***

BILL: All right!  That's much better.

HEAD OF ALFREDO GARCIA: Gawd.  I was going cross-eyed looking at all those italics.

DEMENTEE: THAT MUCH BETTER!!!!!! WELCOME BACK KOOL AID GUY!!!!!!

XERXES: Poop fart poop fart poop fart.

ANALOG KID: Hi.  I'm just here.

KOOL AID GUY: (Still struggling) Where Foot?

BILL: He's not here.

HOAG: Yeah, he's on vacation.  Or died in a meth lab explosion. Not sure which.

KOOL AID GUY: (Wheezing) When?

DEMENTEE: HE BE BACK MONDAY!!!!!!!!

BILL: But until then, we've got a lot of catching up to do. You've been away a long time.  Many things have changed. Come, let's go talk over a nice slice of pie...

(Continued.  Maybe.  If I feel like it.)

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

III

He knew this place.  He had been here before, though not laying prone on the floor as was his current position.

He was back from wherever he had been.  He tried to turn his head, but could not.  He stared blankly up at four blurry figures looking back down at him.

Whatever made you think a defibrulator would work on...that?

DUNNO!!!!! SEEM LIKE GOOD IDEA AT TIME!!!!!!

He knew them.  These were people from his past.  The names escaped him, but the voices...

The voices were held in his memory.  They were his friends; or at least his accomplices. As his eyesight continued to resolve, he recognized them.  He tried to speak but was struggling to remember how.  One of the men patted him on his - head?

We should get him back to where he belongs.

There's no hurry. Let him rest and come around.

WHAT YOU MEAN NO HURRY??????!!!!!!!  WHY WE DRAG THIS OUT SO LONG!!!!!

I agree. I've got pies to decorate!  Let's go here!

Just be patient. He'll be back to normal before too long.  He's been away a long time.

He knew he had to return.  He wanted to return, but he needed time. Contorting himself so that he could look at as many of them as possible without moving his fragile, achy body too much, he again tried to speak. This time it came.

Foot.

Continued...(Friday)

Friday, October 21, 2011

II

He heard a voice.  He was sure it was a voice.

Voices.

A Conversation. They were words he didn't understand, but they were words.

Concentrate.

Ah sss-ink we ssssssvive it ifffffffffffff we ssssssssssssss.

Motion stopped.  The floating sensation ceased. He felt more like he was being suspended in place.

By what?

He moved slightly.  Then again. 

Sssssssssry it nowsssssssssssssss.

Clear!

A searing pain shot through his...well, he didn't know. Body? Form? He lurched upward violenly, then floated back down to where he was before. The voices grew more frequent.  And he began to recognize the words.

Do it again.

The pain lanced him as he lurched upward a second time. He tried to stifle a scream. He failed.

ME THINK HE MADE NOISE!!!!!!!!!

Yeah, I heard that too. One more time.

Clear!

The pain ripped through him a third time.  As he rose, it was if the hypothetical shade had been ripped from the imaginary window, noontime sunlight pouring in.

Light. First in the corner.  Then spreading.

And the glassy eye fluttered open.

Continued. (Next Tuesday)   

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

I

Darkness.

No, not exactly.  There was some light; like that which seeps through around the edges of a black-out shade. Enough light to see there was nothing.

He was there, rising and descending in the ether. Not crashing to earth or tumbling off into whatever.  Just floating. He was neither being nor nothing.  He knew - if that was the correct word for it - that he was something. Cognito ergo sum. He was.

Or wasn't.  He gouldn't be sure. But he was here, wherever "here" was. He knew he wasn't "there" - a sunny beach, a skyscraper, a lavatory.  

So he was or he wasn't, here or anywhere, wherever any of those things were or weren't, unlit or otherwise.  And this narration has gone completely off the fucking rails. 

Onward.  

He heard a voice.

Continued (Friday)...

Fleen