(no subject)
Title: It's All About Perfection
Fandom: A Clockwork Orange
Word Count: 3323
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mentions of rape, violence.
Summary: Here before me stood the veck that had caused all my problems, the veck that landed me in the rookers of those scientists who made me watch those horrible horrible films and tried to pit me against good old Ludwig Van.
Notes: Oh God, so, part of my job this vacation was to clean out my old computer, where I found a healthy amount of fanfiction I had written ages ago but never posted. Here we go.
What I had signed, O my brothers, in that hospital after the Governer had ittied off to do whatever that sort of veck does, was a like consent sheet. I did not pony this until the nurse told me I should get ready because I had signed this document and that another very important chelloveck was coming to visit me. I asked why this visitor needed a document to see me, since everyone else came without one, but the nurse just went 'Oh oh oh' and crossed her arms like nadmenny and told me to finish my chai. I wanted to keep my gentlemanly behavior and cal, so I obeyed and drank the rest of it real skorry, lifting my glazzies every so often and viddying the door so that this veck couldn’t like sneak up on me.
A malenky bit later, someone knocked on the door thump thump thump, and the nurse got up and dusted herself off, even though she wasn’t grazhny at all, and then she gripped her rookers around the handle and opened it up. In walked a veck, quite starry, with a pair of otchkies resting on his nose and an ordinary tie and platties, but they were real clean like they were owned by a bugatty veck, which I guess they were, this visitor being supposedly important. He had a briefcase which he placed by the door, and he viddied me with his glazzies, and they were cool cool cool, and probably, O my brothers, as sharp as my britva and they like viddied me up and down. I started to open my rot, to get a word in or say hello, but he said:
‘Hello, little Alex. I trust you are well today?’ His goloss was all smooth and I said:
‘I am, sir.’ I started to use my real polite goloss, wanting to impress him because his govoreeting made me feel a malenky bit poogly. All his slovos came out like aah and not a-a-ah or a-aah and he sounded very firm and maybe a little like those political chellovecks who made like droogs until they decided to drive me bezoomy with music and poor poor Otto Skadelig. But that was in the past, so I said ‘What business do you have with me, eh?’
This veck nodded to the nurse and she picked up her purse and left and I thought oh Bog, why does he want to speak with me, Your Humble Narrator, all by his lonesome? I was starting to feel a bit suspicious of this chelloveck because of the document I had to sign and his goloss, but I was determined to not look poogly or anything, so I said, finished with my gentlemanly act, ‘Who are you? What grazhny slovos need a veck like you speak to me, eh? They must be real horrorshow baddiwad for you to tell that ptitsa to itty away. So, come on with it, brother. Who are you and what have you to say?’
He viddied me for a moment, his litso scrunched up all puzzled like, and then he went ‘Hmm, interesting,’ sort of like I was an animal in a zoo that had just made a real queer shoom, and then he said ‘Well, if I understand correctly, I take it you think I've come to tell you something vulgar?’ He had a malenky smeck at this, and then he said ‘No no no, I wouldn’t do that. I've heard you've faced some trouble recently, hmm?’ I said:
‘Oh yes, a whole mess of trouble. These scientist lewdies made me watch these films, real bolnoy, blasphemous films they were, and then these like political vecks tried to make me snuff it, and here I am.’
He skriked his chin with a finger. ‘I really am sorry for everything that has happened to you, Alex,’ he said with his smooth smooth goloss. ‘I hope you're willing to accept my apology.’ I said:
‘Your apology? But why, eh? What wrong have you done me? I’m awfully tired of all these lewdies coming in and saying ‘Sorry sorry sorry’ like it was their fault that I jumped and that all these government and political vecks keep dragging me around like a merzky trophy. But it’s no matter. I’m all cured. I’m in real horrowshow condition, I am.’
‘I can see that,’ said the veck. 'I suppose that, before we have a little chat, I should introduce myself. It's only polite, hmm? I do believe so, yes. My name, little Alex, is Bernard Ludovico. As you can probably guess, I'm the man who came up with the premise of the Ludovico technique that seems to have caused you so much trouble. That, I suppose, is why I find the need to apologize to you.’
I could not believe what I had just slooshied. Here before me stood the veck that had caused all my problems, the veck that landed me in the rookers of those scientists who made me watch those horrible horrible films and tried to pit me against good old Ludwig Van. I was real razdrez and he was starry, so I knew that I could tolchock him in the rot a few times and punch out his zoobies, or maybe ticklewickle both of his rookers wide open and viddy the red red krovvy flow down his wrists, but Your Humble Narrator, although cured mentally, still hurt and felt pain owww when he tried to move, his back being injured so recently.
‘Oh?’ I said real calm like, trying to make like I wasn’t razdrez. ‘You want to apologize, do you?’ Since I couldn’t drat him with my britva, being sick and cal, I decided that I should use another like method to come out all victorious. I figured that this chelloveck felt real baddiwad about what he did to me, so that if I played polite and maybe cried some boohoohoo, I’d be more certain to get something special, compensation like. After I got better, I could like hunt him down and find his house number 17 18 19 and knock 1 2 3 and open the door and whip out my britva and show him that nobody gets the best of YHN. ‘Do you know,’ I said, still playing it calm like, ‘how much you hurt me? How much I suffered?’
‘I do,’ said the Ludovico veck. ‘And that is why I’m apologizing, is it not? But no no no, this was all a horrible mistake. A most terrible one. I figured you should hear a bit about why I did this, hmm? About why I was willing to try this technique out?’
‘If you wish,’ I said, leaning back on my elbows, giving him a like pitiful look with my glazzies like a lost puppy or a veck who’d just been beat up real horrorshow with lots of ultra-violence. ‘If you think it’ll make me feel better.’ He said:
‘I don't know. We'll see. But I'll start from the beginning-- that makes the most sense, correct?’ He paused and pursued his goobers. ‘I'm not a, what are those called? I'm not a control-freak as you have probably been led to believe. I'm an average man with a family-two daughters and a wife. Yes, yes, it's a very nice life. My youngest daughter, Marlene, is having my grandchild in oh, perhaps a month. But I'm wandering off topic.’ He had a good smeck at this, which I found to be a malenky bit queer, him not taking himself very serious like. ‘In short, I'm just like you. I've grown up on this Earth, I've breathed the same air. Of course, there is a slight generation gap, however-’
‘Excuse me, sir,’ I interrupted. ‘I don’t understand what you mean when you say ‘I’m just like you,’ because you’re not. We're two very different people.’ He smiled and said:
‘Oh, but you are, Alex. We are the same. But enough about particulars-- I'll get to the point. I am not ignorant of the news. I am not ignorant of the daily reports of violence and rape in these cities. In my lifetime, I have watched this world,’ he paused, ‘steadily decline, what have you. I have seen the cities disappear into a spreadsheet, into reports and statistics of murders and kidnappings.’ He closed his glazzies and let out a long sigh. ‘It's very unsettling, you must understand, to realize that the good days are over, and that the only thing on the horizon is lawlessness and chaos.' I didn't quite pony all this talk about 'good days,' because my life had been real horrowshow up until I got locked in the Staja, but I didn't say anything since this Ludovico veck seemed real intent on finishing his story, and I didn't want to seem rude because he might not give me any like compensation. He continued:
‘As you might expect, Alex, I didn’t want my two daughters and future grandchildren living in a world like this. I wanted them to live in the world of my youth because it was so much more pleasant and safe, you see. Anyway, many years ago, my family and I went over to my wife’s sister's house to watch a game of football. Marlene, who was seven at the time, was running around the family room with her sister, despite our protests for them to settle down. She slipped and banged her head on the coffee table, which gave her a nasty concussion. However, when she recovered, she stopped running in the house. We no longer had to threaten her with grounding or time-outs that had originally only proved to postpone her rough-housing. No no, Marlene was quite content to behave on her own accord. Anne, she’s our other daughter, noticed Marlene’s behavior and followed suit. Marlene, you see, could no longer stomach the idea of running indoors.
‘You’ve already helped me recognize that failing with the technique. The human mind isn’t so easily manipulated by one action and one action alone. It absorbs all of it’s surroundings, which is why you felt an aversion to music.’
I started to feel razdrez again, because this chelloveck was the reason I could no longer slooshy Ludwing Van or J.S. Bach, but then I remembered that I was cured from that, and that when he left I could put Saint Saëns’ ‘Danse Macabre’ into my real horrowshow new stereo and slooshy away and viddy myself with some creeching ptsisas, giving them the old in-out-in-out, and goolying around the Moloko bar with my droogs and dratting the first veck I viddied with my britva, getting at their litsos and glazzies and rookers and viddying the krovvy go sploooosh and drip down. I had a good smeck at this, and the Ludovico veck must have found me to be quite queer, it looking like I was smecking at his story.
‘Is there something that amused you, Alex?' he said looking a malenky bit perplexed. I said:
‘No, not at all, sir. Please go on with your story.’
‘My story is over, Alex; however, I have not yet explained it all to you.’ He used one finger to push up his otchkies which were starting to slip down on his nose. ‘Those radicals who were trying to use you as a tool against the government, they believe what I do is immoral, against human nature. They say ‘how dare he play with the human mind!’ I say to myself, are they so blind? Humans, like my daughter Marlene, are constantly affected and altered by events in their life. We are not born from the womb with fears or goals; we form them as we grow older. Such a change is not a manipulation-- it is simply life.’
‘But what you did,’ I started, finding it harder and harder to hide my anger, ‘is drive me bezoomy-- crazy, that is. You made me miserable and sick and unable to defend myself against my former droogs. You screwed up my gulliver real baddiwad-- I mean, I couldn’t like think right or anything.’
‘And that was a mistake on my part, and I apologize. Clearly the technique still had a few bugs. I was not trying to destroy your free will, no no, not at all. My aim isn’t to create a society full of robots, it’s to create a society in which people can actually live and be happy. Certain things, such as violent impulses, need to be curved in order for our society to actually function. I’m afraid that if this lawlessness continues, our society will turn into a world in which might is right. Forget scientific and medical progress, oh no. People who are unable to stand against a pistol would die. Arguments would be solved through sheer strength. It would become a sort of Dark Ages. Art would be destroyed, libraries burned, women raped, and children taught to wield a knife. I’d rather...’ He closed his glazzies and inhaled. Then he opened them again, looking a malenky bit pale, and said ‘I’d rather not see that happen. I want this world to be set right, and in order for that to be accomplished, we need my technique. A few sacrifices along the way is nothing compared to the lives it will save in the future.’
I couldn’t help but be amused like, because I wouldn’t mind so much living in a world like he said. It would be real horrowshow to viddy the Public Biblio go up in flames and smoke, and to do all this ultra-violence without the millicents caring, since they’d be part of that society too, and I wouldn’t have to lie to pee and em anymore about what I was doing late at night. It would be a fine society, it would. This gloopy Ludovico veck said that we were the same, but how can he say that when his perfect world is so different than that of YHN’s? But I decided to play along, all concerned like, and I said ‘That’s awful.’ He nodded his head, looking real distressed, like the buildings were actually burning to the ground and ptitsas were getting raped and cal, which I guess they were, now that I think about it. ‘But, Mr. Ludovico sir,’ I continued, ‘It isn’t so great to be one of those sacrifices.’
‘No, Alex,’ he said, ‘I can’t imagine that it is. You must understand, however, that in order to save this society from complete collapse, I need your full cooperation. You’ve already agreed to undergo more testing, which is a step in the right direction, but we still-’
‘Yarbles! Bog bleed you, you grahzny bastard! Who govoreeted that I wanted to be tested again, eh?’ I said, clenching my goobers real tight so that it felt like they were about to break, about to go ’crack’ and collapse all over the inside of my rot. ‘Who govoreeted that I was willing to be your pawn, your merzky lab rat?’ The Ludovico veck said, looking quite a bit surprised:
‘Why, you did, Alex. You signed the form a couple of days ago, claiming that you’d be willing to undergo an altered form of the procedure. You see, we’ve done some experimenting, some trial and error, and discovered a few mistakes in the conditioning that can easily be fixed. Removal of the music from the films, for one, as well as self-defense training. Of course, it’ll take a little longer than two weeks this time, but the results should be much more satisfying.’
‘You’re bezoomy if you think that I’d go through that again. You bolnoy sod, you vonny bastard. There’s no way, no way that you’ll do this to me again.’ I made to get out of my bed, but this sort of pain shot up my back which made me creech before like slipping back down. I couldn’t get away, I couldn’t, my body being not quite healed.
‘Calm down, Alex,’ he said, sounding a malenky bit concerned. ‘I don’t want to hurt you. The revised technique shouldn’t have those nasty side-effects. You’ll be able to listen to music when it’s through. I promise you that.’ But I creeched:
‘I don’t sodding care! I won’t let you put me back in the rookers of those scientists!’ I shot my rooker out to like tolchock him in the litso, but he was quicker and moved, and then he said, real calm in that smooth goloss of his:
‘The doctors told me that I may take you unwilling if need be.’ He removed a like hypodermic from his briefcase. ‘Now, I wouldn’t worry about this. It’s just a mild sedative. You know what a sedative is, right? It makes you sleepy.’
I creeched and sort of made to roll out of the bed, but the veck was on top of me and pinning me down real tight before I could get too far, him being strong despite his age. He had the hypodermic ready to go into my plott, but I jerked away and sank my zoobies into his arm. He didn’t make any shoom, but just like grimaced and pulled away from me, though one of his rookers still held me down. I could see a malenky krovvy trickle down to his rooker, but he remained like calm and reached to put the hypodermic in. I creeched, which made him stop where he was, the hypodermic centimeters from my plott.
‘You say that you’re doing this for the good of society, eh? What about me, Ludovico? I’m a part of society, aren’t I? Is this helping me at all? Is it?’ I like jerked away my arm, and was surprised when he didn’t try to stop me. He got up from the bed, his plott dead pale, and then he rearranged his otchkies which had slipped a bit in the middle of pinning me down. He sort of muttered, real quiet like:
‘Oh dear me. Oh dear, dear me.’ He started to put away the hypodermic, still mumbling ‘dear dear dear’ and then he picked up his briefcase. He took a long breath, and then he goolied to the door, and then he said ‘Good day, Alex.’ Without another slovo he opened the door and ittied away, and Your Humble Narrator was left my his lonesome, partly tangled in the bed sheets because of the like struggle.
I took a minoota or two to catch my breath, and then I rolled over and put on Saint Saëns’ ‘Danse Macabre’ on the highest volume level and closed my glazzies and viddied my like perfect world, while Ludovico goolied through the hospital hallways trying to find his.
Fandom: A Clockwork Orange
Word Count: 3323
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mentions of rape, violence.
Summary: Here before me stood the veck that had caused all my problems, the veck that landed me in the rookers of those scientists who made me watch those horrible horrible films and tried to pit me against good old Ludwig Van.
Notes: Oh God, so, part of my job this vacation was to clean out my old computer, where I found a healthy amount of fanfiction I had written ages ago but never posted. Here we go.
What I had signed, O my brothers, in that hospital after the Governer had ittied off to do whatever that sort of veck does, was a like consent sheet. I did not pony this until the nurse told me I should get ready because I had signed this document and that another very important chelloveck was coming to visit me. I asked why this visitor needed a document to see me, since everyone else came without one, but the nurse just went 'Oh oh oh' and crossed her arms like nadmenny and told me to finish my chai. I wanted to keep my gentlemanly behavior and cal, so I obeyed and drank the rest of it real skorry, lifting my glazzies every so often and viddying the door so that this veck couldn’t like sneak up on me.
A malenky bit later, someone knocked on the door thump thump thump, and the nurse got up and dusted herself off, even though she wasn’t grazhny at all, and then she gripped her rookers around the handle and opened it up. In walked a veck, quite starry, with a pair of otchkies resting on his nose and an ordinary tie and platties, but they were real clean like they were owned by a bugatty veck, which I guess they were, this visitor being supposedly important. He had a briefcase which he placed by the door, and he viddied me with his glazzies, and they were cool cool cool, and probably, O my brothers, as sharp as my britva and they like viddied me up and down. I started to open my rot, to get a word in or say hello, but he said:
‘Hello, little Alex. I trust you are well today?’ His goloss was all smooth and I said:
‘I am, sir.’ I started to use my real polite goloss, wanting to impress him because his govoreeting made me feel a malenky bit poogly. All his slovos came out like aah and not a-a-ah or a-aah and he sounded very firm and maybe a little like those political chellovecks who made like droogs until they decided to drive me bezoomy with music and poor poor Otto Skadelig. But that was in the past, so I said ‘What business do you have with me, eh?’
This veck nodded to the nurse and she picked up her purse and left and I thought oh Bog, why does he want to speak with me, Your Humble Narrator, all by his lonesome? I was starting to feel a bit suspicious of this chelloveck because of the document I had to sign and his goloss, but I was determined to not look poogly or anything, so I said, finished with my gentlemanly act, ‘Who are you? What grazhny slovos need a veck like you speak to me, eh? They must be real horrorshow baddiwad for you to tell that ptitsa to itty away. So, come on with it, brother. Who are you and what have you to say?’
He viddied me for a moment, his litso scrunched up all puzzled like, and then he went ‘Hmm, interesting,’ sort of like I was an animal in a zoo that had just made a real queer shoom, and then he said ‘Well, if I understand correctly, I take it you think I've come to tell you something vulgar?’ He had a malenky smeck at this, and then he said ‘No no no, I wouldn’t do that. I've heard you've faced some trouble recently, hmm?’ I said:
‘Oh yes, a whole mess of trouble. These scientist lewdies made me watch these films, real bolnoy, blasphemous films they were, and then these like political vecks tried to make me snuff it, and here I am.’
He skriked his chin with a finger. ‘I really am sorry for everything that has happened to you, Alex,’ he said with his smooth smooth goloss. ‘I hope you're willing to accept my apology.’ I said:
‘Your apology? But why, eh? What wrong have you done me? I’m awfully tired of all these lewdies coming in and saying ‘Sorry sorry sorry’ like it was their fault that I jumped and that all these government and political vecks keep dragging me around like a merzky trophy. But it’s no matter. I’m all cured. I’m in real horrowshow condition, I am.’
‘I can see that,’ said the veck. 'I suppose that, before we have a little chat, I should introduce myself. It's only polite, hmm? I do believe so, yes. My name, little Alex, is Bernard Ludovico. As you can probably guess, I'm the man who came up with the premise of the Ludovico technique that seems to have caused you so much trouble. That, I suppose, is why I find the need to apologize to you.’
I could not believe what I had just slooshied. Here before me stood the veck that had caused all my problems, the veck that landed me in the rookers of those scientists who made me watch those horrible horrible films and tried to pit me against good old Ludwig Van. I was real razdrez and he was starry, so I knew that I could tolchock him in the rot a few times and punch out his zoobies, or maybe ticklewickle both of his rookers wide open and viddy the red red krovvy flow down his wrists, but Your Humble Narrator, although cured mentally, still hurt and felt pain owww when he tried to move, his back being injured so recently.
‘Oh?’ I said real calm like, trying to make like I wasn’t razdrez. ‘You want to apologize, do you?’ Since I couldn’t drat him with my britva, being sick and cal, I decided that I should use another like method to come out all victorious. I figured that this chelloveck felt real baddiwad about what he did to me, so that if I played polite and maybe cried some boohoohoo, I’d be more certain to get something special, compensation like. After I got better, I could like hunt him down and find his house number 17 18 19 and knock 1 2 3 and open the door and whip out my britva and show him that nobody gets the best of YHN. ‘Do you know,’ I said, still playing it calm like, ‘how much you hurt me? How much I suffered?’
‘I do,’ said the Ludovico veck. ‘And that is why I’m apologizing, is it not? But no no no, this was all a horrible mistake. A most terrible one. I figured you should hear a bit about why I did this, hmm? About why I was willing to try this technique out?’
‘If you wish,’ I said, leaning back on my elbows, giving him a like pitiful look with my glazzies like a lost puppy or a veck who’d just been beat up real horrorshow with lots of ultra-violence. ‘If you think it’ll make me feel better.’ He said:
‘I don't know. We'll see. But I'll start from the beginning-- that makes the most sense, correct?’ He paused and pursued his goobers. ‘I'm not a, what are those called? I'm not a control-freak as you have probably been led to believe. I'm an average man with a family-two daughters and a wife. Yes, yes, it's a very nice life. My youngest daughter, Marlene, is having my grandchild in oh, perhaps a month. But I'm wandering off topic.’ He had a good smeck at this, which I found to be a malenky bit queer, him not taking himself very serious like. ‘In short, I'm just like you. I've grown up on this Earth, I've breathed the same air. Of course, there is a slight generation gap, however-’
‘Excuse me, sir,’ I interrupted. ‘I don’t understand what you mean when you say ‘I’m just like you,’ because you’re not. We're two very different people.’ He smiled and said:
‘Oh, but you are, Alex. We are the same. But enough about particulars-- I'll get to the point. I am not ignorant of the news. I am not ignorant of the daily reports of violence and rape in these cities. In my lifetime, I have watched this world,’ he paused, ‘steadily decline, what have you. I have seen the cities disappear into a spreadsheet, into reports and statistics of murders and kidnappings.’ He closed his glazzies and let out a long sigh. ‘It's very unsettling, you must understand, to realize that the good days are over, and that the only thing on the horizon is lawlessness and chaos.' I didn't quite pony all this talk about 'good days,' because my life had been real horrowshow up until I got locked in the Staja, but I didn't say anything since this Ludovico veck seemed real intent on finishing his story, and I didn't want to seem rude because he might not give me any like compensation. He continued:
‘As you might expect, Alex, I didn’t want my two daughters and future grandchildren living in a world like this. I wanted them to live in the world of my youth because it was so much more pleasant and safe, you see. Anyway, many years ago, my family and I went over to my wife’s sister's house to watch a game of football. Marlene, who was seven at the time, was running around the family room with her sister, despite our protests for them to settle down. She slipped and banged her head on the coffee table, which gave her a nasty concussion. However, when she recovered, she stopped running in the house. We no longer had to threaten her with grounding or time-outs that had originally only proved to postpone her rough-housing. No no, Marlene was quite content to behave on her own accord. Anne, she’s our other daughter, noticed Marlene’s behavior and followed suit. Marlene, you see, could no longer stomach the idea of running indoors.
‘You’ve already helped me recognize that failing with the technique. The human mind isn’t so easily manipulated by one action and one action alone. It absorbs all of it’s surroundings, which is why you felt an aversion to music.’
I started to feel razdrez again, because this chelloveck was the reason I could no longer slooshy Ludwing Van or J.S. Bach, but then I remembered that I was cured from that, and that when he left I could put Saint Saëns’ ‘Danse Macabre’ into my real horrowshow new stereo and slooshy away and viddy myself with some creeching ptsisas, giving them the old in-out-in-out, and goolying around the Moloko bar with my droogs and dratting the first veck I viddied with my britva, getting at their litsos and glazzies and rookers and viddying the krovvy go sploooosh and drip down. I had a good smeck at this, and the Ludovico veck must have found me to be quite queer, it looking like I was smecking at his story.
‘Is there something that amused you, Alex?' he said looking a malenky bit perplexed. I said:
‘No, not at all, sir. Please go on with your story.’
‘My story is over, Alex; however, I have not yet explained it all to you.’ He used one finger to push up his otchkies which were starting to slip down on his nose. ‘Those radicals who were trying to use you as a tool against the government, they believe what I do is immoral, against human nature. They say ‘how dare he play with the human mind!’ I say to myself, are they so blind? Humans, like my daughter Marlene, are constantly affected and altered by events in their life. We are not born from the womb with fears or goals; we form them as we grow older. Such a change is not a manipulation-- it is simply life.’
‘But what you did,’ I started, finding it harder and harder to hide my anger, ‘is drive me bezoomy-- crazy, that is. You made me miserable and sick and unable to defend myself against my former droogs. You screwed up my gulliver real baddiwad-- I mean, I couldn’t like think right or anything.’
‘And that was a mistake on my part, and I apologize. Clearly the technique still had a few bugs. I was not trying to destroy your free will, no no, not at all. My aim isn’t to create a society full of robots, it’s to create a society in which people can actually live and be happy. Certain things, such as violent impulses, need to be curved in order for our society to actually function. I’m afraid that if this lawlessness continues, our society will turn into a world in which might is right. Forget scientific and medical progress, oh no. People who are unable to stand against a pistol would die. Arguments would be solved through sheer strength. It would become a sort of Dark Ages. Art would be destroyed, libraries burned, women raped, and children taught to wield a knife. I’d rather...’ He closed his glazzies and inhaled. Then he opened them again, looking a malenky bit pale, and said ‘I’d rather not see that happen. I want this world to be set right, and in order for that to be accomplished, we need my technique. A few sacrifices along the way is nothing compared to the lives it will save in the future.’
I couldn’t help but be amused like, because I wouldn’t mind so much living in a world like he said. It would be real horrowshow to viddy the Public Biblio go up in flames and smoke, and to do all this ultra-violence without the millicents caring, since they’d be part of that society too, and I wouldn’t have to lie to pee and em anymore about what I was doing late at night. It would be a fine society, it would. This gloopy Ludovico veck said that we were the same, but how can he say that when his perfect world is so different than that of YHN’s? But I decided to play along, all concerned like, and I said ‘That’s awful.’ He nodded his head, looking real distressed, like the buildings were actually burning to the ground and ptitsas were getting raped and cal, which I guess they were, now that I think about it. ‘But, Mr. Ludovico sir,’ I continued, ‘It isn’t so great to be one of those sacrifices.’
‘No, Alex,’ he said, ‘I can’t imagine that it is. You must understand, however, that in order to save this society from complete collapse, I need your full cooperation. You’ve already agreed to undergo more testing, which is a step in the right direction, but we still-’
‘Yarbles! Bog bleed you, you grahzny bastard! Who govoreeted that I wanted to be tested again, eh?’ I said, clenching my goobers real tight so that it felt like they were about to break, about to go ’crack’ and collapse all over the inside of my rot. ‘Who govoreeted that I was willing to be your pawn, your merzky lab rat?’ The Ludovico veck said, looking quite a bit surprised:
‘Why, you did, Alex. You signed the form a couple of days ago, claiming that you’d be willing to undergo an altered form of the procedure. You see, we’ve done some experimenting, some trial and error, and discovered a few mistakes in the conditioning that can easily be fixed. Removal of the music from the films, for one, as well as self-defense training. Of course, it’ll take a little longer than two weeks this time, but the results should be much more satisfying.’
‘You’re bezoomy if you think that I’d go through that again. You bolnoy sod, you vonny bastard. There’s no way, no way that you’ll do this to me again.’ I made to get out of my bed, but this sort of pain shot up my back which made me creech before like slipping back down. I couldn’t get away, I couldn’t, my body being not quite healed.
‘Calm down, Alex,’ he said, sounding a malenky bit concerned. ‘I don’t want to hurt you. The revised technique shouldn’t have those nasty side-effects. You’ll be able to listen to music when it’s through. I promise you that.’ But I creeched:
‘I don’t sodding care! I won’t let you put me back in the rookers of those scientists!’ I shot my rooker out to like tolchock him in the litso, but he was quicker and moved, and then he said, real calm in that smooth goloss of his:
‘The doctors told me that I may take you unwilling if need be.’ He removed a like hypodermic from his briefcase. ‘Now, I wouldn’t worry about this. It’s just a mild sedative. You know what a sedative is, right? It makes you sleepy.’
I creeched and sort of made to roll out of the bed, but the veck was on top of me and pinning me down real tight before I could get too far, him being strong despite his age. He had the hypodermic ready to go into my plott, but I jerked away and sank my zoobies into his arm. He didn’t make any shoom, but just like grimaced and pulled away from me, though one of his rookers still held me down. I could see a malenky krovvy trickle down to his rooker, but he remained like calm and reached to put the hypodermic in. I creeched, which made him stop where he was, the hypodermic centimeters from my plott.
‘You say that you’re doing this for the good of society, eh? What about me, Ludovico? I’m a part of society, aren’t I? Is this helping me at all? Is it?’ I like jerked away my arm, and was surprised when he didn’t try to stop me. He got up from the bed, his plott dead pale, and then he rearranged his otchkies which had slipped a bit in the middle of pinning me down. He sort of muttered, real quiet like:
‘Oh dear me. Oh dear, dear me.’ He started to put away the hypodermic, still mumbling ‘dear dear dear’ and then he picked up his briefcase. He took a long breath, and then he goolied to the door, and then he said ‘Good day, Alex.’ Without another slovo he opened the door and ittied away, and Your Humble Narrator was left my his lonesome, partly tangled in the bed sheets because of the like struggle.
I took a minoota or two to catch my breath, and then I rolled over and put on Saint Saëns’ ‘Danse Macabre’ on the highest volume level and closed my glazzies and viddied my like perfect world, while Ludovico goolied through the hospital hallways trying to find his.