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Date Posted: 19:36:07 08/10/02 Sat
Author: Walter Patterson, SBR Brig Desk Clerk
Subject: Winners Don't Use Drugs
In reply to: Cal & Silent Al 's message, "Detour" on 22:55:17 08/08/02 Thu

The forms the Grigoris chose were unusual, and yet cosmic facades and nothing more. Therefore, the second-hand smoke the imaginative twenty-seven year old clerk now inhaled was in itself a manifestation of the will of two higher beings. Walter knew none of this, however, thinking his captors to be a pair of hooligans with some kindof extremely retro fashion sense. All he knew was that his lungs burned, and his head pounded, and he had never felt so dizzy in his life....

"I thought the brig was dangerous? Look where I am now! Maybe I'll lose consciousness and not be awake when these junkies crash into--"

The tendrils of smoke billowing back toward Walter now curled and took on the form of a pair of beguiling feminine hands, the kind of hands that delivered forms and sorted disks. The kind of hands Walter would never get to hold because he thought too damn much and acted too damn little.

Lighting.

Walter jumped back, curling into a fetal position. In the flash of light he had seen something. Was that a six-foot rabbit?

Thunder.

Walter held his hands to his ears and sqeezed his eyes shut and screamed. He was tumbling now, falling into an abyss so deep he would never claw his way out.

Silence.

It was quiet...too quiet. He opened his eyes and his jaw dropped. He lay on a barren rock surrounded by thousands just like "Chester." He could see how the silhouette of writhing tendrils resembled rabbit ears amid the smoke. They screamed and writhed but no sound could be heard. A tendril of smoke hung inviting overhead and Walter leapt without thinking, grasping at smoke. Below him, the demons paused, waiting for meat to offer itself to them in bloody sacrifice.

"Stopstopstop!! This isn't right, oh dear God, this isn't how it goes! I'm supposed to be a hero or a robot or do something and she's impressed and we live happily ever after and I control the shots in the scenario and this just is a nightmare!"

Improbability.

Walter's hands grasped the tendril of smoke tightly as tentacles snaked toward his ankles. He scurried upward as the unlikely choir of infants crying out in unison broke the silence. His ascent seemed to last an eternity as the tendril became a root then a branch then a tree.

Busstop.

Walter looked around nervously. The world was in slow motion now, no one on the bench looking at him, the shrubs shunning him.(Shrubs shunning?) A tall fellow stood a mashed a box of chocolates into an old woman's face before stepping off the curb and dropping from sight. Cautiously, Walter made his way to the curb and looked over the edge at the trillions of stars winking back at him. Was that space or a thousand cyclopean monstrosities in a blackened pit? Suddenly, a bus-sized insect slid upalong side the bench and Walter watched in horror as the would-be passengers were converted into energy and inhaled.

Hammer time.

He turned to run but the sidewalk had already swallowed his feet. He tried in desperation to pry himself loose but how could an ordinary man hope to break concrete? He laughed at the utter absurdity of the notion even as twenty-foot red-and-black hammers marched in perfect unision toward him, shattering the sidewalk as they bent to kiss it in admiration. Walter knew he was the nail.

"The nail is important. The nail holds things together. 'Just a desk clerk'? That's like saying 'just a nail'. A nail has purpose, baby. A nail exists for a reason. And a five-foot six inch nail must exist for a damn good reason. Take that Mr. bigshot Officer Sal Dupont! Yeah!"

People Rides.

Walter watched the talking horses in the field taking their children to ride the saddled businessmen. Nearby a young filly brushed lint from the armani suit of her own prize-winning cubicle-dweller and life was grand.

As the ship caromed through space, Walter remained drooling on the floor and giggling madly, occasionally saying something nonsensical aloud, all the while finding himself wanting Spicy Nacho Doritos but remembering his gastroenterologist's warnings about spicy foods....such was life.

"Avoid fruits and nuts. You are what you eat."
-Garfield (Jim Davis)

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Replies:

A Winner Is You -- Cal & Silent Al, 21:22:31 08/10/02 Sat