“Uh… ugh…. BLARGH!
“Ooohh… my head... pain…”
“…dizzy…”
MY EYES ARE OPEN, I’M AWAKE, MY SKULL SCREAMS AT ME IN PAIN, IT HURTS, GOD IT HURTS! Aren’t they? Their open… [*blink*] yup their open… right? You damn eyes, OPEN RIGHT NOW!
haaaaaaaaaaaa….
Clink CLANK!
Clink, chink, Clank!
Cankle,
cankle,
cankle…
What’s that noise? PAIN in HeAd making hard to think; it’s like there’s a retarded baby inside my skull chewing on my memories thinking their sherbet. Little bastard, get out of my head. WHY CANT I SEE? ARE THEY OPEN? The kid ate them.
Littlefuckingbastardsonofabitch.
Where am I. [Or is it “?” Yes its “?” alright.] That was definitely a question.
Maybe the baby knows.
Haaa!
Haaaaaaaarr!
Haaaaaah!
“Haaa?” What the HELL was THAT? OW! Ow ow ow ow… pain. Can’t move.
CLANK!
Why can’t I move?
CLINK! CLINK!! CLINK!!!
Why? Why?? Why???
“Why…. WHY CAN’T I MOVE?”
“He’s awake.”
“Indeed… LIGHTS!”
Thunk,
thunk,
thunk!
Yikes! I see three lights! These damn things popped on one after the other announcing themselves to my awareness with not only blinding bright photons crashing into my iris and through my pupils but also with an annoying “thunk”. Thanks to these bastards of Edison I can’t see shit…
“Can he understand me?”
“Mmm… probably not.”
More voices, no… same voices! their the same voices from a moment before, where are they coming from? I open my eyes ever so slightly… [DAMN! Too bright!] …and gleam through narrowed eyes I see the three bright lights which blinded me just a few seconds ago. Are they talking to the baby? With limited vision I can start to observe that which is around me and finally I see what it is that’s been making that darn “clink, clank, whatever” series of noises every time I try to move. Sometimes it just doesn’t pay to… HEY!
“He’s still suffering from the effects of the serum... but he’s conscious.”
Who the hell told this lady she can just grab hold of an eye lid like that? And not just any eye-lid, the one I’m looking at her pull and yank on while staring at me with her own eyes a few inches from mine as if looking for the last can of Dr. Pepper deep in the fridge and then become extremely dissatisfied when you realize it’s a Diet Dr. Thunder instead. Sometimes it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed… that’s what I was going to say before I was interrupted so brazenly. DAMN SHE’S RUDE… I’d have drank it instead of leaving it next to that suspicious sandwich from last week.
“If he’s conscious then he can hear me…”
“Stand back.”
It’s a simple sentence but even as I fantasize about all the things I will do to that sandwich my head turns like it has a will all its own, no, not its own, but bending to the will of a voice that commands. [FOCUS DAMNIT]… theearscandoitafterallwhycantyou? It’s really hard to see. Soo… BRIGHT. It’s those three lights up there blasting down on me; I’d probably have cancer right now if you could get it from the fluorescent.
“Who are you to invade the sanctity of my town?”
“Explain yourself or those injuries will NOT be your last…”
…fooOOoooCCuuuuss. From just pure bright stuff and an entire galaxy of sparkling thingies dancing about just outside my shackled reach I start to make out more shapes. The voices are all there in my head making perfect sense if not asking questions to which I could answer if my head was not a throbbing center for every pain I ever felt from birth till the 2nd grade.
“I had a traumatic 2nd grade…”
“Eh…”
“Erica, if you would?”
Ah that’s so much better. I can FINNALY SEE! It took forever, just as I was adjusting to the dark those damn lights and then I gotta adjust again and... What’s she doing? Those look pretty sharp; she must take good care of them… hey… waitasecondwiththat…
…NO!
SCRATCH! slice, slice
“AAaarrgghh!”
“Do we have your attention NOW?”
“…yeah… yeah ya do…”
Yeah ya do! Damn why couldn’t she just send me a FAX? That crazy eyelid pullin’ bitch just raked her nails across my shirt, tore through it, and then into my skin! Almost as if it were an afterthought she just sliced across the other direction creating what an artist might recognize as a “cross-hatching” pattern with the torn pieces of my flesh. Her fingers are coated with my blood, my eyes are locked on the speaker addressing me for fear he may command the girl with the bloody fingernails again… but she is cute. Prolly be pretty kinky too if she can scratch that hard...
“Excellent.”
“Now… who are you, why were you in my town, and what were you doing with those Minions?”
Whose on first?
“Huh? What onions? Where am I?”
“He knows… he must know who we are… after what he did.”
“Hmm… yes.”
“Are you working for one of those cretins? Lacklan, or my opponent Micheal Angelo?”
“…”
I hear him talking, but I don’t recognize the names. Thoughts and memories are coming at me like an avalanche. At the same time I remembered the crazed lunatic addressing me is Doc Placebo; the reason I am here, I also remembered the special recipe for Mom’s family famous lasagna.
Doc Placebo,
“ANSWER!”
“Come on now, we know you know…”
Doc Placebo,
“I know you hear me, I can see it in your eyes, your working things out… and by now you know Erica’s fingernails are a little… sharp.”
Erica… that was her name. Although my conscious mind had not yet sorted that fragment of data from the painful jumble of goop that has become my brain my far more recent memory does indeed include reference to those nails. Not to mention the burning pain coming from my chest this ache is only soothed by the cooling of my own blood on the wounds.
Erica,
“Was it Lacklan? SAY IT ALREADY!”
Erica,
“That clueless voice of nothingness cannot even see why it is Doc opened up the Killer Championship to all comers. As if competition in NEW were something in high demand… the whole point was to bright people like HIM back into the fray.”
I glance at Erica and her claws, but I see something I don’t expect.
“haaaaaaaaaaa…”
The bright lights above me create a halo of light which does not last much farther than the operating table to which I now recognize I am chained. Beyond this halo of light I see nothing but darkness thicker than the murkiest fog, my eyes cannot penetrate it. However, just on the barrier between that light and nothingness part of a Minion is seen. Held at bay by a noose around its neck the slave in thrall to Placebo strains itself so that it may lap away at the blood on Erica’s fingernails; my blood. Her hand is now soaked with the creatures saliva. I can hear the creature’s feet and hands tearing against a hard surface so that it may nip just a bit more precious type O negative.
Doc Placebo,
“Shh… it’s alright... but it is true, without someone on my level that can and HAS defeated me… there is no point. However… not every puppet appreciates the master… now, back to YOU.”
Doc Placebo,
“I know you can hear me… so listen well.”
Doc Placebo,
“Whether you are an agent of Lacklan or Michael Angelo I do not care; now you will start life… anew.”
Doc Placebo,
“I WILL find out your purpose here, I will send a message to your potential master.”
Doc Placebo,
“But I do not believe you carry Michael’s standard… he’s arrogant undoubtedly. But anyone whose name is a pun I fear cannot orchestrate nor train the necessary personnel to accomplish what you have.”
Doc Placebo,
“No, that is beyond this ‘wrestling artist’, and Sunday, just in case you do hail to his cause, I will make sure that he suffers to a great degree for your actions as well.”
Doc Placebo,
“Till then, good night.”
Just as quickly as I was blinded they leave me in the dark. Footsteps betray their movements to my ears and I hear them move out of the room but that is not all I hear. My ears tell me of many other minions. I hear the sounds of bare feet, hands, and fingernails all tearing into the earth trying to vie for a greater position.
“Sweet dreams!”
Ha ha ha ha... Was that a stomach growling? Breathing… oh God their really, really, really close aren’t they? Are they all tied down with nooses or are some of them free? FUCK ME. JUST FUCKING GREAT!
clink!
Great… can’t move. Surrounded by crazy blood thirsty Minions, trapped in a psycho’s underground basement fortress whatever thingy.
Sometimes it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed.
|