I’m terrified, sweating and confused.
My eyes wide and unseeing, my testicles hiding snuggly in my lower intestinal track, I take one hand and rub it down my face from forehead to chin, then alternatively the same with my other hand, then again with the first hand, then with the other. I am Curly from the 3 Stooges minus the Woob Woob Wooob .
As if creeping out from hell’s megaphone I hear,
“Shake Shake Shake….Shake Shake Shake….Shake your booty….”
I whimper, please no.
“……..We had joy, We had Fun,…………..
……We had seasons in the Sun…………….”
ARRRG NOOOOOO! What is this madness?
I want to cry but I’m afraid Barry Williams will hear and come find me – so I keep stifled.
Maybe I have suffocated already and this is the psychological hell some theorized about when I was alive.
“Skyrockets in Flight…….Afternoon Delight……”
What is that, do I smell inscence? Hell no!!
Please stop, I promise to be a good boy!
Perhaps my prayers were answered, or it was just timing, but the macbre jingles and vincent price-esque tie-dyed painting melted, dripping away from my vision in jerky animation….
And although my eyes become clearer, my mind – my poor mind – it stings and covered in little sharp jabs of broken glass.
But it’s okay, ….
“….The Rug Doctor will clean it all up faster than the competition……”
I actually hear the fading sound of a vaccuum as its rolling across and cleaning my brain, until it becomes silent.
It’s dark now, but I can see the faint glow of the slim rectangular gateway on my coffee table.
My salvation yes, it is a foot away, and with panicky animal self preservation I do a fast lean and snatch. I am so rattled and confused but am just barely able to find and press the big red circle in the top left corner, ……..and I hear the faint static sound of the electronic God winking out.
Complete darkness. Ah peace,…….yes. Im in one piece and a-okay.
