Monday night weirdness, Episode 5
links to past episodes 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
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episode 5
you swallow the lump in your throat, eyes wandering past rick's glare to the ugliness surrounding you. lucid. i'm lucid and this is what it means? a reeking dumpster house, a sole-stabbing street and a sky full of moth-grey sick sunlight you could technically call daytime, if you were feeling generous?
you're not feeling generous.
'luuuucid,' you croon. 'ha, lucid again.' your eyes meet rick's, the corners of your mouth turning up. the righteous smirk he's nursing dims. 'lucid in the sky with...'
'you are making a personal choice here,' rick says, voice dangerously soft. 'choose wisely.'
you inhale with the utmost caution, hold your breath...
...and remember only sometime later why your lungs are bursting --
the breath explodes out of you. 'lucid in the sky with daphne!' you pull in oxygen, throw back your head to the tepid mothwing sky and cackle. rick sighs, exasperated.
'no.' you fix him with your most ferocious look, which has brought judges and reference librarians to tears of laughter. but rick doesn't laugh, arms folded, stony in his white jumpsuit. 'no, no, no, no, polar bear man, i don't believe you. this isn't lucid, this is acid! acid acid acid. believe it or not, because i know you don't, it's my very first trip. and you're making it suck. so, by the power vested in me by acid, i command you to fuck off.' remembering i dream of jeannie, you nod your head and blink.
rick is still there, scratching the back of his head, when you open your eyes. 'uh. you didn't really think it would be that easy, did you?' he says.
'but it's acid -- '
'would you lay off calling it "acid"? what the hell?' you search his face for the joke. it just isn't there. he's serious.
'um,' you say carefully, 'acid. lysergic acid dye, um -- die eth ill am i'd? ...25? you know, classic halluuucinogen all you fine citizens continually suspected me of -- '
'7-percent?' says rick. 'oh. you're talking about 7-percent. the kids these days are calling it "molecule paper" among other things; never heard anyone refer to it as...'
acid. okay, houston. we have a big problem. there is no way you remembered this wrong.
'lsd,' you say experimentally.
he shakes his head. 'you're not impressing me. you're so far into your own head you're making up your own drug slang now?'
not cool... 'rick.' you take a deep breath of rancid air. 'rick. i realise this is your line, but you are freaking me out.' he just laughs, bounces up and down on his toes. crunch crunch crunch under his heels. 'look. all right... it hasn't been that long since high school... has it?'
rick nods, unfolds his arms, flexing his big hands. 'so you admit it? large gaps in your memory, eh? disorientation? guess you've never had any treatment, either. it's gotta be hell for you.'
'sure -- right now,' you say, 'but when... i... stop tripping i'll just be back in the day-glo forest...' you don't sound certain, even to yourself.
'right, the magic forest.' he clucks regretfully. 'you really are lost. no one knows where you are, least of all you. there's no one to take care of you, is there?'
his eyes catch yours. the snappy answer you were fishing for disintegrates. the desolate dirty beige of the houses on the block darkens, presses in.
well mayim feeds me, uh... some kind of hippie kibble and actually who knows what that looks like in this shitty dimension... okay but i'm obviously not dead or anything and she's being really nice right now, at least she was, even though she doesn't think you're real...
your shoulders slump. your eyes fix on the terrible sharp ground so solid so undeniable beneath your splattered boots. your hands ball into soft fists, touch cold knuckles to your lips...
through fingers, your voice sounds crumbled, as if you swallowed defeat like a piece of cake down the wrong pipe. 'if this is reality i...' don't want to breathe this smelly air anymore? well, if you aren't real you can't anyway --
do you want to be real, kid?
somewhere deep within your head, a lazy synapse finally fires.
'hey,' you shout, straightening. 'why do you even care if i'm real? and if your reality is so great and everyone should stay here and sniff the rotten fish, what were you doing in the day-glo forest? oh yeah, getting daphne -- but you ate her molecule paper to get there!' rick's mouth falls ajar. 'no, wait. you got on drugs in order to tell her to get sane?' he flinches. you're really yelling now, voice sending flat echoes off the once-beige walls of the garbage den. 'your idea of "sane," which she didn't even want. and now you're trying to get me. is the hospital paying you per "entity" or something?'
red-faced, rick splutters an answer you shout over: 'no! just tell me where daphne is.'
'she's safe,' he says. 'getting the treatment she needs. i can't force you -- '
'oh, but you can force her, guess that's okay.'
'unlike you, she knows she needs help, you arrogant little tweaker -- '
'that's probably because you lied your ass off to her. you're evil,' you tell rick. 'your reality sucks and you know it. just because it's ugly and smelly doesn't make it any realer. fuck you for even trying to get me, you bastard, i'm going to find out where you put her and -- '
'you're going to take a person who needs help and give her the drugs that drove her batshit in the first place?' rick says. 'yeah, real noble. well, you can count on a fight then, because you're not getting her. you can't even find your own way home, you freak. how are you going to find her from your magic forest?'
your turn to splutter. rick turns, white sneakered heel crunching on the splintered path. 'g'bye, freak.' he walks towards the dreary set of houses on the other side of the garbage den.
'my name's not freak,' you call. 'asshole.'
he stops, turns. 'yeah, well what is it then? don't remember, do you?' grin.
no, but you're not going to admit that. you touch thumb to middle finger, palms up. 'i'm one. with the universe. don't need a name.'
'okay, Juan,' he throws back. 'gotta go give daphne her happy meal. see you in the gutter.' he strides off, glass and metal crackling under his rubber soles.
'i said One, not Juan -- ' never mind. you kick a spent cartridge in the road. this place sucks, but at least it'll suck less without rick.
it occurs to you that if you had stopped mouthing off and faked a bit, you could be following rick back to his lair of sanity and rescuing daphne. you groan, turn a listless circle in the road, stare at rick's white jumpsuit blending into the uniform beige of the neighbourhood.
but then, if you had faked it, what if you got stuck too and neither of you ever got back to the forest? you feel a bit better. this dimension business is kind of a bitch, and you've got to figure it out first.
i am gonna get back to the forest somehow -- right? so far you've assumed once the molecule paper runs out, you'll go back automatically. what if your whole brain changed, though? what if you never get back?
not thinking about that right now. maybe if you recognise somewhere you want to go within the place you don't, it might help. well, you're not going back into Garbage House, so you cross the street and shuffle over to the wooden fence in front of the lumberyard.
a low growl erupts from behind a pile of logs.
+
Episode 6
____________________________________
episode 5
you swallow the lump in your throat, eyes wandering past rick's glare to the ugliness surrounding you. lucid. i'm lucid and this is what it means? a reeking dumpster house, a sole-stabbing street and a sky full of moth-grey sick sunlight you could technically call daytime, if you were feeling generous?
you're not feeling generous.
'luuuucid,' you croon. 'ha, lucid again.' your eyes meet rick's, the corners of your mouth turning up. the righteous smirk he's nursing dims. 'lucid in the sky with...'
'you are making a personal choice here,' rick says, voice dangerously soft. 'choose wisely.'
you inhale with the utmost caution, hold your breath...
...and remember only sometime later why your lungs are bursting --
the breath explodes out of you. 'lucid in the sky with daphne!' you pull in oxygen, throw back your head to the tepid mothwing sky and cackle. rick sighs, exasperated.
'no.' you fix him with your most ferocious look, which has brought judges and reference librarians to tears of laughter. but rick doesn't laugh, arms folded, stony in his white jumpsuit. 'no, no, no, no, polar bear man, i don't believe you. this isn't lucid, this is acid! acid acid acid. believe it or not, because i know you don't, it's my very first trip. and you're making it suck. so, by the power vested in me by acid, i command you to fuck off.' remembering i dream of jeannie, you nod your head and blink.
rick is still there, scratching the back of his head, when you open your eyes. 'uh. you didn't really think it would be that easy, did you?' he says.
'but it's acid -- '
'would you lay off calling it "acid"? what the hell?' you search his face for the joke. it just isn't there. he's serious.
'um,' you say carefully, 'acid. lysergic acid dye, um -- die eth ill am i'd? ...25? you know, classic halluuucinogen all you fine citizens continually suspected me of -- '
'7-percent?' says rick. 'oh. you're talking about 7-percent. the kids these days are calling it "molecule paper" among other things; never heard anyone refer to it as...'
acid. okay, houston. we have a big problem. there is no way you remembered this wrong.
'lsd,' you say experimentally.
he shakes his head. 'you're not impressing me. you're so far into your own head you're making up your own drug slang now?'
not cool... 'rick.' you take a deep breath of rancid air. 'rick. i realise this is your line, but you are freaking me out.' he just laughs, bounces up and down on his toes. crunch crunch crunch under his heels. 'look. all right... it hasn't been that long since high school... has it?'
rick nods, unfolds his arms, flexing his big hands. 'so you admit it? large gaps in your memory, eh? disorientation? guess you've never had any treatment, either. it's gotta be hell for you.'
'sure -- right now,' you say, 'but when... i... stop tripping i'll just be back in the day-glo forest...' you don't sound certain, even to yourself.
'right, the magic forest.' he clucks regretfully. 'you really are lost. no one knows where you are, least of all you. there's no one to take care of you, is there?'
his eyes catch yours. the snappy answer you were fishing for disintegrates. the desolate dirty beige of the houses on the block darkens, presses in.
well mayim feeds me, uh... some kind of hippie kibble and actually who knows what that looks like in this shitty dimension... okay but i'm obviously not dead or anything and she's being really nice right now, at least she was, even though she doesn't think you're real...
your shoulders slump. your eyes fix on the terrible sharp ground so solid so undeniable beneath your splattered boots. your hands ball into soft fists, touch cold knuckles to your lips...
through fingers, your voice sounds crumbled, as if you swallowed defeat like a piece of cake down the wrong pipe. 'if this is reality i...' don't want to breathe this smelly air anymore? well, if you aren't real you can't anyway --
do you want to be real, kid?
somewhere deep within your head, a lazy synapse finally fires.
'hey,' you shout, straightening. 'why do you even care if i'm real? and if your reality is so great and everyone should stay here and sniff the rotten fish, what were you doing in the day-glo forest? oh yeah, getting daphne -- but you ate her molecule paper to get there!' rick's mouth falls ajar. 'no, wait. you got on drugs in order to tell her to get sane?' he flinches. you're really yelling now, voice sending flat echoes off the once-beige walls of the garbage den. 'your idea of "sane," which she didn't even want. and now you're trying to get me. is the hospital paying you per "entity" or something?'
red-faced, rick splutters an answer you shout over: 'no! just tell me where daphne is.'
'she's safe,' he says. 'getting the treatment she needs. i can't force you -- '
'oh, but you can force her, guess that's okay.'
'unlike you, she knows she needs help, you arrogant little tweaker -- '
'that's probably because you lied your ass off to her. you're evil,' you tell rick. 'your reality sucks and you know it. just because it's ugly and smelly doesn't make it any realer. fuck you for even trying to get me, you bastard, i'm going to find out where you put her and -- '
'you're going to take a person who needs help and give her the drugs that drove her batshit in the first place?' rick says. 'yeah, real noble. well, you can count on a fight then, because you're not getting her. you can't even find your own way home, you freak. how are you going to find her from your magic forest?'
your turn to splutter. rick turns, white sneakered heel crunching on the splintered path. 'g'bye, freak.' he walks towards the dreary set of houses on the other side of the garbage den.
'my name's not freak,' you call. 'asshole.'
he stops, turns. 'yeah, well what is it then? don't remember, do you?' grin.
no, but you're not going to admit that. you touch thumb to middle finger, palms up. 'i'm one. with the universe. don't need a name.'
'okay, Juan,' he throws back. 'gotta go give daphne her happy meal. see you in the gutter.' he strides off, glass and metal crackling under his rubber soles.
'i said One, not Juan -- ' never mind. you kick a spent cartridge in the road. this place sucks, but at least it'll suck less without rick.
it occurs to you that if you had stopped mouthing off and faked a bit, you could be following rick back to his lair of sanity and rescuing daphne. you groan, turn a listless circle in the road, stare at rick's white jumpsuit blending into the uniform beige of the neighbourhood.
but then, if you had faked it, what if you got stuck too and neither of you ever got back to the forest? you feel a bit better. this dimension business is kind of a bitch, and you've got to figure it out first.
i am gonna get back to the forest somehow -- right? so far you've assumed once the molecule paper runs out, you'll go back automatically. what if your whole brain changed, though? what if you never get back?
not thinking about that right now. maybe if you recognise somewhere you want to go within the place you don't, it might help. well, you're not going back into Garbage House, so you cross the street and shuffle over to the wooden fence in front of the lumberyard.
a low growl erupts from behind a pile of logs.
+
Episode 6