By this point, I had been on the island four whole years, and let me tell you, when you live on Tabula Rasa, you can pack a lot of strange experiences into four years. I'd welcomed a lot of people to the wonders of life in a desert island society, and this was far from the first time one of them had been wielding a gun. It was, however, definitely the first time one of them had arrived in a big, plexiglass box coated with bits of brain on the inside.
(I should probably point out here that it wasn't the bits of brain and skull that gave me pause, but the box. When you've seen your own brain splattered across the sidewalk, it kind of takes the impact out of seeing someone else's splattered anywhere.)
"You just hopped dimensions!" I called as I stopped a couple of feet away in my bikini. "If I let you out of there, it would be awesome if you would refrain from shooting me!"
"What are you talkin' about?" Nathan shouts back at her, confused. Let him out? He's the one who walked in there on his own! Except, he'd been promised fame, fortune and fanny, not whatever this is. Annoyed, he exits the booth, gesturing almost wildly with both hands.
"What's happened to the studio? This better not be any of that Survivor bullshit, 'cause I didn't sign on for that!"
So many people showed up trapped in something-Cages, Port-o-lets-that I'd just assumed he couldn't get out. It made me wonder why he hadn't exited the box immediately, though. Personally, I would choose the fresh air of a beach over blood and brains, but to each his own.
"You hopped dimensions," I repeated, a calm but steady eye on the handgun. "Do you know the Twilight Zone? It's kind of like that, but with less Shatner." Somehow, I got the feeling this guy wasn't going to benefit much from a less gentle approach to explaining the island.
"Or... it's kind of like you've kidnapped me and are planning to take advantage of my body in unspeakable ways," Nathan replies pointing at her, first with the hand the gun's in before he realizes that's probably not such a good plan and switches hands.
Though truthfully, with her, he's not so sure he'd mind much. She's a bit short for his tastes, but he can manage. He's like a sexual chameleon. He'll adapt.
"No, it's actually not even close to being like that," I replied, and managed to restrain the impulse to roll my eyes. "If you could please refrain from waving your gun at me, I would appreciate it."
"Please," he replies easily, holding up the gun, "There was only the one bullet in this--"
His words are cut off when his finger slips and the gun fires, bullet hitting the sand near him and displacing it into a dust cloud. The noise startles Nathan and he jumps, nearly dropping the weapon in the process.
"...or maybe there was more than one. I've been wrong before. Why do I even still have this thing?!"
My heart felt like it had jumped out of my chest. Somehow, I'd managed to not scream, but I had startled backwards, and my pulse was beating furiously beneath the hand I'd pressed to my chest.
I'm not afraid of dying, but I really wasn't ready to do it again that day.
Wits back to me, I darted forward and snatched the gun from his pale fingers with a scowl.
(I should probably point out here that it wasn't the bits of brain and skull that gave me pause, but the box. When you've seen your own brain splattered across the sidewalk, it kind of takes the impact out of seeing someone else's splattered anywhere.)
"You just hopped dimensions!" I called as I stopped a couple of feet away in my bikini. "If I let you out of there, it would be awesome if you would refrain from shooting me!"
Reply
"What's happened to the studio? This better not be any of that Survivor bullshit, 'cause I didn't sign on for that!"
Reply
"You hopped dimensions," I repeated, a calm but steady eye on the handgun. "Do you know the Twilight Zone? It's kind of like that, but with less Shatner." Somehow, I got the feeling this guy wasn't going to benefit much from a less gentle approach to explaining the island.
Reply
Though truthfully, with her, he's not so sure he'd mind much. She's a bit short for his tastes, but he can manage. He's like a sexual chameleon. He'll adapt.
Reply
"No, it's actually not even close to being like that," I replied, and managed to restrain the impulse to roll my eyes. "If you could please refrain from waving your gun at me, I would appreciate it."
Reply
"Please," he replies easily, holding up the gun, "There was only the one bullet in this--"
His words are cut off when his finger slips and the gun fires, bullet hitting the sand near him and displacing it into a dust cloud. The noise startles Nathan and he jumps, nearly dropping the weapon in the process.
"...or maybe there was more than one. I've been wrong before. Why do I even still have this thing?!"
Reply
I'm not afraid of dying, but I really wasn't ready to do it again that day.
Wits back to me, I darted forward and snatched the gun from his pale fingers with a scowl.
Reply
Leave a comment