A Piece of Life

A Piece of Life(1)

The bell tinkled gently on the corner of the door when Victor opened it, and again a moment later as it closed, accompanied by the low hiss of the pneumatic anti-slam mechanism.  The shop was quiet otherwise. Rows of waist-high shelves filled the room, their chipped white paint offering the last line of defense for the tired old wood that peered from beneath it.  The thick yet not unpleasant smell of things long unmoved, of yellowed pages and brittle binding glue, hung in still air.  In the window display an ancient rocking horse bearing the proud scuffs of a thousand imagined journeys watched with its meticulously hand-carved expression of stoic bravery the passing of hunched and hurried figures in the world on the other side of the glass.

There didn't appear to be anyone working.  Victor worked his way towards the register counter where a dusty glass display case dully refracted the sunlight from the window onto the side of a dented but probably functional toaster with a round white sticker upon which someone had scribbled "3".   The case was held shut with a copper clasp and kept secure with a small padlock.  Victor leaned over it and scrutinized its contents.  A pile of knives of varying sizes and purposes occupied the bottom shelf, and on the shelf above it an assortment of small decorative spoons were carefully arranged.  He squatted down and peered at the knives.

His nephew Isaac was something of a knife collector, and even at the tender age of sixteen had already amassed an impressive variety which he loved to display and talk about at every opportunity. Isaac's eyes always lit up when Victor gave him a new one.  Isaac seemed to understand:  A knife has a personality.  It has a story, a history, and even a destiny.  A knife might spend its days in the gnarled hands of an old man, methodically peeling statues of horses from within their wooden wombs or trimming excess line from fisherman's knots, the blade dwindling slowly in acquiescence to a hundred thousand draws across a whetstone.  Another might shine in the hands of a master chef while yet another is forgotten, slowly rusting in the back of a kitchen drawer.  For these, any presence of blood is an unfortunate side effect of a wandering mind.  Others are crafted for more sinister purposes.

Isaac would be happy with anything, Victor knew.  A large ornamental blade caught his eye for a moment, but it's purpose was inscrutable other than as decoration and he quickly dismissed it. Thoreau's disdain for useless brick-a-brack resonated in his mind.

"...I was terrified to find that they required to be dusted daily, 

when the furniture of my mind was all undusted still, 

and threw them out the window in disgust (2)."

Three pieces of limestone.  No; a knife without purpose would not an adequate gift make.  Nor would a broken one.  Here was a folding knife with rust spots, here was a hilt knife in a sheath with a pommel that was clearly loose.  Several were the result of shoddy craftsmanship and cheap materials, one was missing a rivet.  Chipped handles abounded.  Victor's hope dwindled rapidly.  There were a few knives in the back of the shelf that he couldn't get a good look at from his vantage point, and he cast around again for an employee who might open the case for him.  None appeared.  Victor gambled that whoever worked there wouldn't mind if he went around to the back of the counter for a better look.

Motes of dust swirled in the light from the window as he stepped around a many-tiered shelf full of snow-globes and music boxes.  As soon as he came around the back of the counter, he saw something that looked promising.  It was a fixed-bladed knife with a polished black handle and silver rivets.  The pommel and hilt were silver as well and elegantly crafted.  He couldn't see the blade.  If the blade was in good condition it would be perfect.  Victor stepped over to the body on the floor, and bent down to take hold of the handle.  He gave it a good tug but it was lodged in something.  He put his foot on the small of the dead woman's back, gripped the knife with both hands, and yanked as hard as he could.  The body lifted a little before the blade came free, and thudded back down stiffly when it finally slid out.

Victor wiped the blade off on the corpse.  It was in excellent condition.  A little dried blood was caked at the hilt, but he knew he could wash that off later with a little soap and water and the steel would shine again.  It would be as good as new.  He looked around briefly for a sheath, but didn't hold out much hope for it.  He had some leather working materials in his flat and was handy with them; he would make the sheath himself.  He could easily have it finished by Thursday.

Isaac would love it.

In the absence of a price-tag, Victor gave it a guess that seemed fair and left a few bills by the register before he pocketed the knife in his coat and turned for the door.  The light from the glass case had trekked from the toaster to a lower shelf containing a gorilla that had been carved from a coconut.  He hadn't noticed it before.  Victor added two more bills to the stack on the counter.  The bell tinkled gently again as left the shop and stepped out into the street, coconut gorilla in hand.  The sun was getting low.











1.  The term "A piece of life" is in reference to "The Sundog Trail" by Jack London.  It is a story within a story, both of which have no beginning and no end.  Something about that concept has kept me fascinated ever since I read the story for an English class in high school, so I thought I'd give it a go.  This is that go, for what it's worth.  

2.  The quote is from Walden, by Henry David Thoreau.  I've always considered that work to be a lovely example of how a guy can build a shack out of used lumber and then look down on people from within it.

Collaborative Short Story #2

This post is titled "Collaborative Short Story #2" because it is the second collaborative short story.  Collaborative short story #1 was not called "Collaborative Short Story #1", because at that time I did not know that there would be a second collaborative short story.  If I'd called it "Collaborative Short Story #1" at the time, that would have been like people calling World War 1 "World War 1" before they knew there would be a second one.  That would have seemed unnecessarily ominous to unsuspecting passersby.  

The last one, (Here's the link:  This Ought to Be Interesting) was a concerted effort between myself and my friend Laura.  This one will include a quasi-anonymous third party, henceforth known as "Mike", without the quotation marks.  Mike agreed to set the initial tone, and sent me the first section not ten minutes ago.  It begins: 

Part 1: The Aftermath

The sun shone through the window hitting Remy in the corner of his eye. Stirring ever so lightly, his left eye opened and he scanned the room. His head was pounding from the party the night before and his body felt heavy, weighted down.  He slowly started to raise his body out of the bed when he realized that his right hand was handcuffed to the bed and he was wearing a chicken suit, one closely resembling the suit Big Bird wore on Sesame Street.

Attempting to recall the prior evening events Remy’s mind went blank.  He tried to recall everything, anything, but nothing came to mind. Just then, the flush of a toilet resounded from the next room. As the door creaked open a woman exited the bathroom, scratching her butt as she slowly inhaled the smoke from a loosely lipped cigarette. Her hair was unkempt and laden with pseudo chicken feathers. She coughed and out flew a chicken feather. Remy was not sure what to do. The handcuffs prevented any attempt at escaping and the woman that walked towards him could have stopped a freight train in looks and body type. Fear ran through Remy as she moved closer. Her smile revealed a row of tooth unlike any other that had never been brushed or flossed.

Part 2 

“Hey, Bro! Rough night last night?” in a rough gravelly voice said Matilda. “You know I can’t keep up with you anymore.”

“How in the hell did I end up like this?’

“Hey! I am your sister but that doesn’t mean I keep tabs on every little thing like your sex life”

“Ha ha very funny, now will you help me out of this MESS!?”

Matilda got her spare key for handcuffs from inside the bra she was wearing for just such occasions.  She released her brother but that was the extent of her help as she found a robe to cover herself finally.  

Matilda started making breakfast and though Remy had a throbbing headache from the night before he actually and miraculously found himself hungry.  His sister handed him a drink “ A little hair of the dog that bit you bro.”  You could always count on Matilda even though her life was as much of a mess as she was.   Breakfast was bacon and eggs with fresh home baked biscuits, just like Mom used to make.  What’s his name stood in the door way to the kitchen, shot glass in hand still in his chicken suit. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get that what ever it is off and take a shower before breakfast gets cold.  

Remy grabbed a fresh cup of coffee and reminded his sister not to be smoking in the apartment as he left to go upstairs and take a shower.  ‘I just don’t remember shit’ he thought to himself.  ‘I think I must have been roofied’, trying to guess at what happened he stripped off the chicken suit deciding to burn it after breakfast.  The handcuffs he thought he might keep.  The hot water from the shower ran down in rivulets over his white body and it felt good.  The throbbing in his head stopped and he was beginning to think much more clearly.  He shook his head to clear the cobwebs and prayed he didn’t have sex with someone with aids or a monkey or something.  

It is tough, this dating game and you never know what the end result will be.  The missing girl in question didn’t even leave a note.  He couldn’t even remember what she looked like but he did vaguely remember a girl convincing him to take her home with him.  You might think he would learn from this experience but much like his sister not so much.  He is just healthier than she is.  Not as much drinking and no smoking and regular trips to the dentist. 

Matilda waited sipping her coffee.  She kept breakfast warm in the oven.  Her hair was a mess and she didn’t seem to care.  She has very little modesty but she hasn’t had much since she was a kid running nude around the house screaming like a banshee.  She may not be all there but she loves her brother and as a roommate she cleans and does laundry.

Remy encouraged his sister to do better for herself but she didn’t seem to mind being a house keeper for the hotel down the street.  She was able to pay her half of the rent so what was there to say really?  Matilda was nothing but reliable except when she got drinking and she is a roaring drunk.  Bawdy and degenerate.  Remy wondered how they could even be related.  He sauntered now dressed the stairs and drifted into the kitchen to eat his breakfast.  He looked at his sister and was ashamed at the thought he had but he would be embarrassed to be seen with her.

Part 3

Remy's eyes opened.  He was still in the bed.  A touch of panic set in as he checked his wrists, but he found that he wasn't handcuffed.  There also wasn't a chicken suit.  But his sister had been there... no, Remy didn't have a sister.  He was an only child.  Reality seeped slowly back into his brain like water through a clogged filter.  There had been no party.  No anonymous girl.  No roofies.  He hadn't left the house in days.  

Remy removed the alpha-wave manipulation device from his head and set it on the night stand.  He sat on the edge of the bed for several minutes not thinking about anything before he stood up and shuffled into the bathroom.  His reflection in the mirror blinked stupidly at him, so he made it pick its nose and they both grinned.  

A few hours later found Remy in Dr. Dmitri's office with the AWMD in hand.  

"This one kind of fucked me up" he said.  He handed the device to Dr. Dmitri.  

"How so?" 

"The dreams are too real... but they're not real, and it's getting harder to tell the difference."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you ever woken up, showered, brushed your teeth, left for work and then woke up again?"

"Yes I think most of us have experienced that to some degree."

"It's like that, except I'm never quite sure when I'm finished waking up, and which wake-up is the real one." 

Dr. Dmitri peered over his glasses.

"What about right now?"

"Especially right now."

An hour later Remy stood on the sidewalk outside and took in his surroundings.  Despite the bustle of the city, there was a heaviness to the air that made it seem as though everything was moving in slow motion.  The scrolling marquis outside the bank across the street said it was eleven o clock.  84 degrees.  Tuesday the 3rd.  Tomorrow they'd be expecting him to show up for work.  He hoped that the adjustments Dr. Dmitri had made to the AWMD would help.  

Part 4

The next day Remy woke up to his radio alarm. “I got you Babe” by Sonny and Cher was playing.  He looked at the clock and it was zero six hundred hours, Tuesday the 3^rd and it was still 84 Degrees.  He wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating or if Dr. Dimitri’s AWMD was malfunctioning.  In an instant, a bright light blinded Remy as he felt himself levitating of off the ground, slowly twirling through the air, eventually landing on a cold metal table, stomach down.  He could see a reflection on the metal table.  It was Dr. Dimitri, no it was an alien; a small grey alien with some sort of long metal device.  Remy clinched his butt cheeks together as if to repel and invasive anal attack, but to no avail Remy felt the cold drip of Dr. Dimitri’s KY jelly as it squirted from the lube tube onto his backside.

As he prayed for some type of divine intervention Remy heard a loud rumbling laughter.  Dr. Dimitri pulled off his alien mask and screamed “April Fools”.  Remy was mentally exhausted. This AWMD tomfoolery was not appreciated nor was it well received.  Remy leaped off of the table to confront Dr. Dimitri.  It was then that he realized Dr. Dimitri had shrunk by three feet and was running toward Remy’s privates.  Before Remy could do anything, Mini Dr. Dimitri (Mini Double D) flung his arm upwards slamming his fist into Remy’s junk.  Bowled over in pain Remy was scanning the room for a Diminutive Dr. Dimitri (Mini Triple D).  He was going to kick some Diminutive butt when the pain subsided.

Remy slowly moved around and was unable to find the little junk puncher anywhere.  It was then that Remy realized that the stupid AWMD was still on his head.  He pulled that damn alpha wave manipulation device off of his head and found himself in his bedroom.  Was this all an illusion?  What has he gotten himself into?  As Remy looked at the clock he realized that it was 0859.  Shit! I am late for work. Off he ran. Unshaven, un-showered.

Part 5

Nickel Back was playing on the radio of a sharp looking, fire engine red Miata.  Remy was behind the wheel, the wind in his tousled sandy brown hair. Remy had no idea how he got here but at least his reaction timing was on par for he could have run off the road with the change.  With all the changes Remy realized it was a Theta Wave Manipulator that must start off with the Alpha waves of the brain.  This was dangerous shit and he had no idea how he got involved with such an experiment, he didn’t think it was something he would volunteer to do. Manipulating the subconscious and reality is like something out of Total Recall or the Bourne series. Not something that would be a part of Remy’s’ life, or is it?  If it was reality itself that was being manipulated or infinite possibilities being opened up we are talking Star Trek or Star Gate or something either way, dangerous shit!

Not knowing which reality he belonged was becoming a real pain in the ass.  The change happened again and he was in an air-conditioned apartment with leather sofa and matching chairs, a Kilim carpet on the floor to make a nice living area.    Remy chose to settle into one of the comfortable chairs, closed his eyes to meditate and he began having flashes of what he thought were memories of being in a dentist chair with restraints and a band around his head that had needles drilling into it.  He was screaming and they, whoever they were, injected him with what he assumed was a pain killer or sedative.

He shook the memories away not knowing if they were implanted or if it was reality.  Maybe there is more than one reality and when the Theta waves are manipulated you are open to the infinite possibilities of the choices you could have made.  Interesting theory but all Remy wanted was to find where he belonged and face whatever it might be.

Suddenly without warning Remy was in a hospital bed and very disoriented.  He heard a nurse say that there needed to be adjustments to his medication, but as far as Remy knew he sure as hell didn’t need any medication he just needed to get home, wherever that was.

He thought to himself, ‘Maybe I am delusional.’  That didn’t really bear any fruit not with all that was going on, it couldn’t all be in his head.

He was back at the apartment and feeling ever nauseous.  There was a knock on the door and out of curiosity or habit he went to answer the door.  He opened the door to a beautiful brunette that had legs that went on forever. She was dressed to the nines and looking at him as if he were out of his mind, “Aren’t you ready yet? We are supposed to be there in half an hour.”  Remy had no idea who this doll was nor did he know what in the hell she was talking about.

BAM-he was standing over a body.  Blood congealing on the floor and the flies seemed to be quickly finding their treasure trove of food to make larva.  His hands were covered with blood.  It looked bad, it looked very bad. There was a buzzing in his head and the nausea from the changes hit him harder this time and he was back in the dental chair a doctor yelling at him to calm himself there was nothing wrong that the experiment was successful but not over yet.  It passed for something quite realistic but then everything had so far.  He couldn’t remember his first memory before all this began.

He knew he didn’t have a girlfriend at the moment as much as he loved that reality.  She was a beauty, a queen, a goddess.  Then he was having flashbacks of fine drips of blood ran down his face from the fitted band around his head like a crown of thorns with all its many needles.  He heard the doctor beginning to speak but it was too late he was already at the party with the gorgeous brunette.  He was somewhat relieved, at least this reality seemed okay so far.

He was in the middle of a conversation he had no idea he was having and he just stuttered and managed to cover with not feeling well which was actually true anyway.  Remy was becoming alarmingly afraid of what was going on.  FLASH- Remy was now tied down to a medical bed with the side rails up.  A nurse was shooting something into his IV port on the back of his hand. “This will calm you down.”  She said in a kind voice.

BAM-back at the party he was having a smooth drink of scotch and boy did he need one.  He was alone in what appeared to be a den away from the hub-bub and milling about of the party. All this bouncing around from one reality to another was becoming much harder to bear and he wasn’t sure how much his body could take never mind his mind. 

Remy wasn’t able to tell what reality he belonged to any more now than before this started.  He was beginning to think he was delusional but that didn’t seem possible he’d always felt he was a stable kinda guy, when not bouncing from reality to reality virtual or not.  It was staggering to think that there were an infinite number of realities based on all the accumulated choices we make all throughout our lives.  It was more than Remy at this time could wrap his mind around.  Out of all the many realities if he had to choose he thought the one with the brunette might not be so bad.  He would even ask her to marry him, to keep her all to himself.

That was ridiculous of course he was still bouncing.  He was now in what he thought was a psychiatrists office and they were discussing his resilience to changing situations.  That sounded interesting.  Resilience would be needed not to go insane with the conduction of this experiment conducted on one human, himself.

Buzzing in the ears and the nausea preceded the changes now, so at least he had some forewarning.  It wasn’t much but it was something, anything to hold onto at this point was a good thing in Remy's eyes.  He found himself in a war zone, which couldn’t be he didn’t have the eyes for armed forces.  There he was shooting at some women and kids, they looked Iraqi but he wasn’t sure. His stomach tied up and knots and he vomited while bullets whistled past him and bombs left him nearly deaf.  This was no picnic but he figured it wouldn’t last long.  It couldn’t could it? 

All the other changes or shifts in reality never lasted very long.  Sure enough he shifted but this time he was at a BBQ.  He found himself a quiet spot in the den, sitting down in an easy chair he leaned forward putting his face in his hands.  He felt hopeless, lost and lonely.

Part 6

Deep breaths.  In through the nose, out through the mouth.  Out with the bad, in with the good.  Remy looked up from his hands and watched the room in which he sat waver and shimmer with a fishy sort of rainbow iridescence.  It was odd, he thought, that he didn't feel unusual at all despite the fact that what he saw was nothing short of psychedelic.  How long had this been going on?  How many jumps had he made?  Where was he?  The questions marched relentlessly through his brain without any answers forthcoming.  When he ran his fingers across his forehead he felt a row of tiny bumps at his hairline.  He needed a mirror.

Remy stood up and walked towards the window, and the floor rippled gently with each footfall.  The darkness outside was just dense enough for the weak light in the room to project his ghostly image on the glass, and he peered at it curiously.  The face that peered back was worried and gaunt, and looked older than he thought it should.  He leaned in closer, but the reflection wasn't in high enough definition for him to make out any bumps.  He felt for them again and couldn't find them.

Suddenly something just on the other side of the glass moved and Remy's eyes sharply refocused past the weary looking face in the window.  Two feet behind his reflection was another face.  His stomach jumped up into his throat and he flinched violently but he couldn't turn away.  They stared at each other.  The face didn't belong there.  It wasn't right.  It was a human face, but it was impossible to determine if the person was a male or female, or how old it was.  It had a smooth, ageless quality to it.  Remy felt suddenly that it had been sculpted by someone who had studied what humans were supposed to look like without actually having seeing one.

Whoever was behind the face knew that he saw it, and suddenly appeared slightly alarmed.  It moved backwards away from the glass and into the darkness, accompanied only by the percussive thumping from Remy's heart as it struggled to pummel its way through his rib cage and escape into the night.  After some time, and with considerable apprehension, Remy turned his back to the window to face whatever came next.  He felt different.  Something inside him had hardened.  A part of his mind had accepted chaos, and had come to expect it.

He inhaled deeply, and relaxed his body.  Something was going to happen.  He stood in the center of the room and waited.    

Part 7

Remy could not stop fidgeting.  He decided to look in the window one last time before the inevitable happened; so he thought. He looked at the reflection; as blurry as the image was he remembered that he sneezed on the window earlier. The reflection was a distorted self. Just then, the pain in his stomach grew stronger. The pain of something getting ready to rip out of his gut was frightening. As Remy braced for the pain and the unforeseen result, he farted.  The sound reverberated for at least one minute as a gaseous cloud escaped his posterior orifice. He gagged from the awful fumes that emanated from behind. He once again looked into the window and realized that it was cracked. Even that had a sound and stink threshold.

As the pain subsided, Remy realized that there was no creature ready to burst out of his stomach. The beads of sweat stopped dripping from his forehead just as the tears rolled out of his eyes. The smell that spewed forth from his bunghole melted the shower curtain and started eating away at the tiled walls. It was then Remy knew it was time to run. He ran so fast that all you could see was asshole and elbows as he escaped into the hallway.

 His pants started to deteriorate from the ass end. The heat that accompanied the deteriorating cloth was hot enough to melt a frozen hot pocket. Although the smell was long dissipated, the heat did not. Remy’s asshole was hotter that the inner core of the sun. Right then he wished that a creature did burst out of his gut. At least he would be dead and not have to suffer the heat of a thousand suns burning his bungie. As Remy ran down the hallway he was praying that the Gamma or Theta waves would shift and wake him up to a new reality, a reality that did not include a burning asshole. The last time he felt this bad is when a college friend dared him to stick a ghost pepper up has butt during a frat party. That ghost pepper gag seemed like a frozen ice cube compared to what was going on now. Remy was running, running to a place that had lots of ice.

Remy ran down the street and remembered that there was a store house that contained big blocks of ice 2 blocks away. The tears rolled down his face as he ran. He prayed that he would not fart out of fear that a resulting explosion could render the neighborhood obsolete. He clinched his butt cheeks together as he ran. He looked like a long legged penguin running from a polar bear if you can imagine it. Finally making it to the store house, Remy located the nearest blocks of ice. Within seconds the entire ice stores were melting, water levels were rising, could this be the beginning of a global catastrophe?

Only time will tell………….

Part 8

Remy clenched ever tightly his posterior sphincter still praying that another fart wasn’t building up but he was beginning to cramp up and Lord knew what was about to happen.  The water levels didn’t change so perhaps it was merely his flaming ass that caused the minor disaster.  Remy was holding his ass and squeezing his sphincter when reality changed yet again. 

            ‘Honey why are you squeezing your ass?” The blonde woman asked with a look of puzzlement.  Remy couldn’t answer but instead sighed in such relief for his bung hole was no longer a threat to human kind, at least not right now.  He discovered he was fully clothed in this reality and dressed to kill.  James Bond couldn’t do it better.  Suave, sophisticated and debonair were words that came to mind. Still the blonde woman looked at him as though still waiting for an answer.  He had none.  No answer that could be believed by anyone in any reality except for one he hoped. He hoped he would get back to the one.

            He gave the blonde a weak smile and adjusted his tie in the mirror of the bedroom he had landed in.  She seemed appeased at the moment and went into the living room Remy suspected.  He was about to join her because she was smokin’ hot and well who wouldn’t want to do anything and everything with her. She seemed nice too.   Too late the shimmering began to happen again and he rushed to  the mirror and saw the ghostly face once more but still somehow distorted.  It was rippling like old television used to do.

Remy went into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face. The change was so subtle but the woman who entered into the bedroom was a red head and she was pissed.  “Aren’t you ready yet? God, you are worse than a woman! Hurry the fuck up would ya…”  Remy thought she was beautiful but couldn’t abide by her mouth.  Luckily he shifted into yet another reality.  How long was this going on, how long would it continue.  He was beginning to forget who he once was.

            It was becoming too much but as long as he didn’t fart again maybe things would be OK.  His brain felt like mush.  He couldn’t tell for sure anymore where he belonged or if he ever knew.  He was, however, wondering if he was being observed by aliens and they used windows and mirrors were portals where they could observe. NO that couldn’t be it…

Part 9

"Side effects may include violent and uncontrollable bowel evacuations and toxic clouds of face-melting ass-mist."  It was the distinctive voice of Dr. Dmitri; quiet and subdued, but flawlessly articulate and indicative of great intelligence.  

"In fact," he continued, "administering these substances to patients centuries ago is what prompted them to consider adding lead to paint."
"I don't understand" said a second, unfamiliar voice.  
"Have you ever seen Raiders of the Lost Ark?"
"Yeah.... oh... damn..."
"Yeah.  It's like that."

Remy wanted nothing more than to sit up and get some answers, but he found himself unable to move.  He had a metallic taste in his mouth that reminded him of his college days, when an admittedly unreliable source had informed him that sucking on pennies prior to taking a breathalyzer would fool it.

The realization that something had triggered what appeared to be an actual memory startled him and forced his eyes open.  They were a little crusty and he instinctively tried to reach up and clear away the schmutz, but he found his hands fastened down.  He tried to move his feet and found that his legs were fastened down as well.  He couldn't even turn his head.  A panic set in and Remy began to shake violently in an attempt to free himself, but the restraints held.  Tears of frustration began to flow, and he let out an agonizing sound that reverberated from the metallic walls of the sterile room.

"What do you want from me!?" he wailed. "Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?" asked the squirrel that was seated on the bench next to Remy.
"...um..."
"Dude," said the squirrel, "get your shit together.  You're freaking me out."

"I've never seen it like this before" said Dr. Dmitri's voice.  "It's like he got lost in there."
"Can he get out?" said the other voice.
"I'm not sure what he's going through, but it is definitely significant."
"Is there anything we can do to help him?  Wait, what the fuck!  Where is he?"

The last words touched Remy's brain with a distant, almost imperceptible quality, as if they had been shouted through hurricane force winds a hundred years ago and the ghostly remnants of those ancient vibrations just now tickled his ear drums.  He felt his physical body moving somehow out of where it was, almost floating.  It was different this time.  There was no nausea, no confusion... he was as lucid as he could ever remember being.

Part 10

The sun shone through the window hitting Remy in the corner of his eye. Stirring ever so lightly, his left eye opened and he scanned the room. He realized a few things one, he was within the confines of what resembled an wooden baby crib, two everything seems bigger than normal, three, he smelled poop and an overwhelming liberating sense of relief. Off in the distance he saw what looked like a mirror. He strained to lift up his head to look at his reflection. Remy noticed that he was a baby wearing soiled pampers and he felt hungry. He could think rationally, but he could not speak. No words would form from his lips. The only thing he could say came out as gurgling noises. Suddenly frustrated, Remy began to cry. Within a few moments a rather large woman entered the room and started to speak. Oh my goodness my little man you pooped your diapers.

Remy couldn’t believe it he was a grown man in a baby’s body. What would he do now? He had no control over anything he was at the mercy of this woman. As she peeled off his diaper the cold air rushed in and cooled his little man bits. Immediately, he felt a need to urinate. Struggling with his inner voice Remy finally concluded that he must do what baby’s do and let the yellow stream go forth on its own. The stream of pee jetted through the air and whizzed past the woman’s nose. She took evasive maneuvers and flipped Remy over only to be greeted by the dark brown mass of smelly poop. Remy smiled, he was almost giddy with laughter. He couldn’t believe that being a baby could be so much fun. Pooping his pants then peeing in midair. The woman was in a panic. Not knowing what to do she held Remy outwards as he sprayed the room with a steady stream of pee. Once he was done the woman cleaned his butt and put on a new diaper, then laid him down in the crib.

He felt clean again, but he did not want to be left alone so he did the only thing he could think of to get the woman’s attention. Remy began to cry. Immediately the woman picked Remy up. “Are you hungry my little man” asked the woman? Remy stopped crying and smiled. Without warning the woman sat down on a chair and whipped out a huge breast. Remy smiled again. He would have to remember that crying equals a boob to the face. He was in heaven.

Remy couldn’t remember the last time he had so much fun sucking on a woman’s breast. He only wished that he was a grown man again and that he could continue to do what he was doing as a baby. He thought to himself if I ever get big again I am going to poop my pants and urinate all over my room just for the fun of it. As he continued to suck on the woman’s breast he slowly felt sleepy, slowly fading into a deep sleep that would take him who knows where.

Part 11

His eyes didn't open, and they didn't need to.  An expanse of light spread throughout his consciousness like pancake batter continuously poured onto a hot skillet.  He was acutely aware of the fact that time was not advancing at all; that even as his mind explored the concepts of the reality presented to him, the neural synapses and whatever other tiny electrical impulses involved with doing so happened without any congruent timeline being necessary.  It might be argued he thought, in what can only be described as an instant but which in fact was anything but, that if something takes no time to happen, then it doesn't actually happen.  It already is.

Remy didn't ponder it.  He payed attention instead to his physical self, and the senses that came along with possessing such a thing.  A slight concavity had appeared at the tips of his extremities, as if marbles were being pressed into his skin.  He didn't see them, but he knew the depressions were there and that they were deepening.  It didn't hurt.  He wasn't alarmed.

The concavities grew deeper to the point at which bone and tissue should have begun to resist, or begin angrily firing pain signals to his brain, but they didn't.  The effect was reminiscent of the experience of pushing one's finger into the end of a long balloon, only the balloon never swelled in response to the increased pressure or ran out of elasticity.  Remy's fingers disappeared inside of themselves.  His hands followed, and slid up into his arms until he found himself reaching his own chest cavity where the two inverted hands should have touched somewhere in the vicinity of his heart, but they didn't.  His toes and feet had behaved similarly, and he felt as if he had recently exfoliated and was sliding between freshly washed 1500 thread-count sheets.

No time passed.  Remy's physical presence in the universe vanished within itself as if it had never occupied space there, and left no vacancy or vacuum in its wake.  He was aware of this.  He was aware of everything.  He was nowhere, and he was everywhere.  The borders and limitations of time and space were irrelevant.  Remy didn't exist.  He didn't exist more than anything had ever failed to exist throughout the entirety of everything.  He was freed from the usual fetters of non-existence in such a way that he could enjoy it.

And Remy did.  Or does.  Or doesn't.  He never said.

The End.  

Ember

I pulled into her driveway and skidded a few loose pebbles towards her mailbox.  The flag was up.  I wondered if it would leave skid marks and make her neighbors think I was some punk.  It also reminded me that I needed to do some laundry when I got home.

I kid. 

I'd never been to her place before and was worried that I wouldn't be able to find it, but the sticky note full of hastily written directions had done me right.  The porch light was on.  I headed up three worn wooden steps and stood with my finger on the doorbell-button for a second.

I took a breath.

It had been quite some time since I'd gone on a date.  For a while there it seemed like I was out on dates all the time.  A few times they had panned out into fun if not lengthy relationships, most of which ended abruptly and without much explanation as to why.  A couple of them had just sort of petered out.  I worked a lot.  Too much really.  I was a fairly responsible guy, yet I never seemed to have any money.  I had about eighty bucks to my name that night, and all of it was in my pocket.

I saw the shadow of her feet pause for a second on the other side of the door.  She opened it and smiled.

"Hey!" she said.  "Come on in!"
"Thanks" I said.

I went in.   I kicked my shoes off on the mat next to hers just inside the door.  The only hole in my sock was on the bottom, so I didn't worry about it too much.  She bustled around doing whatever it is that girls do when they bustle around.  Her feet made no sound on the hardwood floor when she walked, and she slid in her socks at every opportunity.

I nosed around in the pictures above her mantle in the living room.  She poked her head in the doorway..

"You want a beer?"
"I'd love one, thank you."
"That's my brother"
"Hmm?"
"In the picture there with me, it's my brother."
"Oh right, yeah I can see a little resemblance there."

She went and got us each a beer, and I  admired how gracefully she moved.  She was small, and there was a certain strength about her.  A fluidity.

I'd admired her for some time.  She was a waitress at the best strip club in the city, and for months I'd found myself looking forward to going there just so I could see her.  (note 1)

Eventually I asked her for her number.  It wasn't completely random,  I'd been in there enough to have established a little rapport with her.  I was polite, tipped well, and had made her laugh once or twice.  She gave me the number.  A week later, there I was in her living room.

She had a place she wanted to go; a bar somewhere near her house.  I failed to come up with anything more interesting that going out for dinner prior to that.  I took her to a steakhouse.  A good one.  She told me that she thought it was cute that I bit my lip when I was nervous. (note 2)  I was mesmerized by her face, and by how tiny and energetic she was.  She had a genuine and intoxicating smile that was crooked in the most adorable way.  

It cost every penny I owned.  It wouldn't have, but she looked at the tip I was leaving (which wasn't skimpy; I was trying to impress her with my generosity) as if it were somehow insulting (it wasn't).

I tipped our waitress like a mafia don. 

We went to the bar.

"My treat" she said.  
"Thank you" I said.  I was a lot more grateful than she probably realized.  I had not figured out how I was going to pull that off.

She was forward and flirted with me unabashedly.  I was not prepared for it and reacted weirdly enough that at one point she actually said "I am flirting with you!"  I had not realized that.  Her confidence and comfort with the situation were outside my capability to fathom.  (note 3)

We drank beers, and drew on a one dollar bill which I then thumb-tacked to a beam on the ceiling alongside hundreds of others.  (note 4)  She invited me back to her house to hang out and throw darts.  I accepted.

"We should knock over a 7-11 on the way" I said.
"Yeah!" she said.  "Then we can cut each other up and have wild bloody sex!"

We both laughed, but I became fascinated by that imagery and couldn't get it out of my head.  No one had ever said anything like that to me before.  I worried about blood borne pathogens.

We threw darts at her house.  She had some paintings that she was working on, and showed them to me.  She was talented.

"We should hang out in our underwear" she said.
"We totally should" I agreed.  (note 5)

We made out all over the house.  We drank wine and exchanged anecdotes.  We laughed, we shared secrets.  I will never understand why I failed to remove my pants.   I just... didn't do it.  I wanted to.  She told me I should do it.  I just didn't do it.  I cannot explain this. We fell asleep tangled up on the couch.

In the morning, I left.

I never saw her again.



Note 1
Once one of my idiot friends snagged a beer from her tray and threw it off balance.  She almost dropped the whole thing.  I thought she was going to punch him in the face.  It would have been pretty awesome if she had, actually.  He needed a good punch in the face.  He still does, come to think of it.

Note 2
If I do that, I've never noticed it.  She's the only person in my life who ever pointed it out.  I wonder about that.

Note 3
I wonder if it was because she interacted with grown men in a strip club for a living.  I literally just thought of that.

Note 4
Many of the dollar bills say simply "Fuck you".  I've seen a few bars with the same interior decoration, the most interesting if which, in my humble opinion, was the Salty Dog Tavern on the spit in Homer Alaska.  Something about the place endears it to me. 

Note 5
Oftentimes it may not be as brutally obvious as to the exact perfect time during a social interaction at which ones pants ought to be removed.  I enjoy the luxury of that precision in this case.  It was at this exact moment that I should have removed my pants.

Possibly the Most Ridiculous Story Ever Written

My good friend Laura and I decided to collaborate on a story by contributing alternate sections and seeing what happened.  This is what happened:  

Part 1 of Many

Ted wasn't in a hurry.  The sidewalk on which he strolled was in rough shape, but he walked it often and easily negotiated the cracks and uneven spots with the nonchalance of familiarity.  He would have whistled a merry tune, but he had never been able to whistle right since that morning in Alberta when he'd woken up with his bottom lip frozen to a door jam.  That had been an eventful night.  He grinned as he reminisced, whisked back to that dimly lit room in the back of the gas station where he and Kadija, the lovely Pakistani woman behind the register, had engaged passionately in several long and sweaty rounds of Magic the Gathering.  Her goblin deck was the stuff of legends.  

His reverie was cut short when out of the corner of his eye Ted spotted something move.  On the other side of the road, on top of a fence post, sat a squirrel of epic proportions.  The squirrel did not appear to be alarmed that Ted had noticed it; in fact if anything it almost looked as if it was about to start flirting with him.  It made sense; one of the warnings on the back of his deodorant specified that unnatural attraction by various rodents was a potential side effect.  This particular rodent however made Ted a little nervous, because he realized that should it decide to court him there might not be much he could do about it.

Part Two of Many

Just as he was thinking what he could do the squirrel morphed into the sexiest woman he had ever seen and she was totally in the buff, nude, naked!  Her cheeks looked like strawberries and cream as she was now blushing and trying with little success to cover her lady bits.  Ted thought he finally caught a break, yeah maybe she was a were-squirrel, much like a were-wolf but she was fabulous when in human form.  No big deal that she was a shape shifter.  Just think of the fun! 

Ted being a gentleman at heart though his pulse was racing and things needed to be adjusted on a man to seem appropriate, he took off his jacket and turned his head while she put it on.  It might not be much but when you're sitting on fence post naked...

So Ted asked the lovely looking lady what her name was and introduced himself.  She said "My name is Acacia, yes?" as if it were a question what her name was, her voice had an upward lilt.. "I like you.  You are a funny man.  I think I want to go home with you now!"  Ted fell in love with her right then her Lithuanian accent included.  It felt awfully quick to Ted, but who was he to argue with a beautiful woman, were-squirrel or not. 

Hopefully she liked Magic the Gathering but that he could find out later.  This seemed as if it were turning out to be an adventure he would not soon forget.

2 < Part < 4 of Many

"Can you give me a hand down from this fence?" She asked, as he basked in her comforting Lithuanian drawl.  Her manner of speech made her sound curious about everything.

Ted smacked himself loudly in the forehead with the giant rubber hand on a stick that he kept in his back pocket.

"Of course", he said as he reached out to her.

"Can I use your real hand?"

"Oh, right" he said, and put the big rubber hand away so that he could help her down properly.  He couldn't help but continue to notice that she was wearing approximately 100% fewer pairs of pants than was generally the custom.

He took off his shirt and gave that to her too, so she could put it on like pants with her legs through the sleeves and whatnot.  She had to hold the sides all the time so it wouldn't fall down, and she looked like she was wearing specialized maternity clothes designed for when you're expecting to give birth to a paint can at any moment, but at least her shapely butt wasn't out in the wind anymore.  She gawked at shirtless Ted.  He was a hairy dude.  It looked like he was wearing a backpack/sweater-vest combination made out of an Ewok.  To anyone else it might have been disconcerting, but Acacia was sporting more than a little tree-dwelling mammal instinct and flared her nostrils tremendously at the site of it.

Ted, although his brain had reverted to its "recently met a hot were-squirrel" mode of pre-programmed social interaction, failed to recognize her reaction as what it was.  He instead assumed that her nostrils had spontaneously tripled in size due to the fact that she'd been bitten by a turtle.  He cast around in a panic for the offending amphibian until he finally realized that when it came to Acacia he would have to disregard ordinary body language-reading skills.  This impending courtship (which would undoubtedly result very soon in an occasionally inappropriate inter-species romance) would be a challenge indeed.  

Ted loved a challenge.  He had once practiced for two weeks just to win fifty bucks stacking the most dimes on the nose of a drunken clown.  Keeping the practice clown drunk for so long had cost well over fifty bucks, and Ted remembered just then to write down the fact that clowns have a suspiciously high tolerance for bottom-shelf rum.  

Part Five?

Back to flaring nostrils, Ted realizing that body language differences being what they are between he and Acacia he would have to be absolutely direct with her verbally.  He asked, “ Why are you flaring your nostrils so, when you haven’t even been bitten by a turtle?” he held his note pad and pen, as he didn't want to forget about the clown and rum or the answer to his question.

“Well you are a manly man and I like you I like the way you smell.”  Acacia said in a low husky voice.  Ted was taking notes.

“Hmmmm do you have anywhere to go?  Do you need a ride?”  asked Ted, always the gentleman, at least he is consistent.

“I have only to go where ever you are and I am home.  You are my soul mate I can feel it in my bones I can see it in the stars.” Acacia absently waved her hand at the stars above giving a good impersonation of some kind of prognosticator.  

Ted took the rubber hand on a stick out of his back pocket whenever he was nervous or had a lack of words so he hit himself in the head again many times.

“Please, you are to making me want you more when you hit yourself.”  Ted was flying aces now there wasn't anything he could do wrong.

“Well if you feel comfortable enough to come home with me and live with me, that would be all right!”  Ted managed to say bashfully. He didn't seem to realize that were-squirrels were notoriously known to have many babies at once and he wasn't thinking about safe sex. . No, he was thinking he wished he had some yodels those Swiss roll type of chocolaty delights with creamy vanilla cream in the center.  

He walked quickly home to get his manly sized tricycle and came back to get Acacia.  It took awhile but it was turning into a nice night.  She was still waiting for him and straddled the front part of the seat as he sat further back to accommodate her.  He let her ring his bell and off they went back to his apartment.  She gleefully giggled all the way there.  She especially liked his handlebar sparkly fringe.  

She rang his bell one more time and hopped off.  Ted parked the tricycle and escorted Acacia to the door.  He fumbled for his keys and hit himself with his rubber hand…Acacia asked him politely if she could borrow his rubber hand on the stick and she used it on herself.  How romantic.  She then proceeded to enter the apartment as Ted finally found his keys in the front basket of his tricycle.  

Both in the apartment Ted and Acacia stared at each other until Ted asked Acacia if she wanted some Rice Krispy treats and a cup of warm water.  She responded in the affirmative.  

So Ted went into his bedroom closet retrieving a couple of Rice Krispy treats from his gym bag. There was a slight odor of feet to them but they were still sealed.  He then went to the kitchen to get a couple of cups of warm water.  He placed a treat on top of each cup and carried everything into the living room.  Acacia had made herself at home having found sweats on the floor and some socks.  She was sitting casually on the ironing board looking for all the world like a Goddess. 

“I wish to run my fingers through your beautiful fur, I promise to be gentle.” 

Ted had nothing to say so he handed her her Rice Krispy treat and cup of warm water, then dropped himself down into a beanbag chair splashing a little water on himself.  He was a little embarrassed and smiled a shy smile.   Acacia smiled back.  Ted was thinking to himself he wished he had a frog and a galactic screwdriver.  Which didn't even make sense to him though it was his thought. Acacia was thinking this could be her new life.  Ted was a good man though weird but he seemed to care for her very much and he knew she was a were-squirrel.

Then she thought that she wished she had a newt and a fire extinguisher, she didn't know why that thought ran through her mind but these things happen.  They chatted amicably until it was nearly dawn.  She turned back into a were-squirrel and...

Part π

...launched gracefully from the ironing board into the air towards him at full speed, four furry legs splayed out like a baby moose on a frozen lake.

"What in the name of Apollo's sweaty grundle!" exclaimed Ted, instinctively assuming his Tae-Kwon-D'armadillo self-defense posture.  Then he noticed that Acacia wasn't just a were-squirrel; she was a were-flying-squirrel.  She soared across the living room towards him in a smooth arc, slamming into him almost entirely non-violently, and sending a puff of Styrofoam beans through the little three-cornered tear in the Naugahyde.  At the moment of impact, she reverted back to human form, and Ted couldn't help but notice that she was wearing clothes.  It begged the question.  

"Wait a minute" said Ted.  "Where'd your clothes go when you were a squirrel?" 

"I dunno" she said innocently, and her face betrayed the fact that not only did she really have no friggin idea, she'd never even thought about it.  "...but it always feels like I have a wedgie".  

"So how come you were naked the first time you changed back on the fence-post?"

"Oh" she said, "that's because I was wearing edible clothes".  

"That doesn't really explain it"

"I got hungry, silly nuts!"

That was plenty of explanation for Ted, but he had another question itching away irresistibly like poison ivy of the armpit.  

"How much of a payload can you carry?" Acacia new exactly what he was insinuating.

"Follow me" she said, and scampered out the window onto the fire escape.  Ted followed without hesitation.      

Once on the roof, Acacia motioned for him to climb on her back.  He hopped up and hung on.  He was pretty heavy, but Acacia took off at full hobble towards the edge of the roof nonetheless.  Upon reaching the precipice, she leaped into the second-floor atmosphere with the confidence of a puppy in a room full of stuffed animals, changing seamlessly and effortlessly into the magnificent giant aeronautical rodent that she was.  Somehow Ted, clinging to her back like a baby koala, wasn't even scared.  

Outward they soared, floating towards the ground at the unrelenting behest of gravity.  Acacia touched down on her suddenly-human tip-toes and came to a graceful stop.  Ted let go too early, careened overhead, and crashed face-first into a park bench.  Impossibly he recovered without a scratch, except for several huge scratches.  

"Awesome!" said Ted, bleeding profusely from the face and grinning like a wardrobe-malfunction designer at a Swedish jumping-jacks competition.  

"Let me fix that for you" said Acacia.  "I just need a frog."  Ted had one in his left breast pocket, and he produced it.  Acacia produced a strange tool from.... somewhere... 

"What's that?" asked Ted.

"A galactic screwdriver of course" said Acacia, administering it to the confused frog and subsequently to Teds equally confused face.  

"I knew it!" he said. 

Just then, 

Part Ə

a walrus crossed the street and righted the bench that Ted had been entangled with.  Then the old thing took a seat.  “Ah!”  he rumbled “A flying were-squirrel and a human covered in Ewoks.”    The galactic screwdriver Acacia slipped into Ted’s back pocket along with the rubber hand on a stick.  The frog she gently placed on the ground and encouraged it to hop away.  “And a good day to you!” said Ted in what he thought was a friendly way though it could have sounded condescending.  The walrus didn't take offense so friendly it must have been.  Yay Ted, his social skills are improving after all.  It must be due to Acacia, it seemed to Ted she could do just about anything.

While the walrus didn't add anything more to conversation Ted climbed on Acacia’s back as she turned and off they glided once more with a mighty jump.  They landed back on Ted’s home and Ted said, “Way to go Rocky!”  Acacia wasn't taking his new nickname very well.  So Ted never called her Rocky again.  They went back downstairs and decided to play twister, which always leads to some interesting times.  For some reason  Ted’s cousin Edna (clearly her mother had no imagination for names) who was an Ewok came downstairs to see what the ruckus was about.  Ted was a little embarrassed but introduced the two all the same.

Then there was a knock on the door…as Ted opened the door it was the walrus “I say I am rather lonely might I come in merely for a cup of tea?"  Ted looked at Edna his cousin the Ewok and at Acacia, they all seemed to be in agreement so they invited him in.  He introduced himself as Xander Ambleton and everyone else introduced themselves.  He saw the twister game out and all four decided to play, which isn't easy with an Ewok being ever so short, and a massive walrus named Xander.  Play they did for hours, they laughed and giggled and laughed some more.

By the end of the evening Xander and Edna were a couple; only surprising as Xander was Jewish and Edna is a devout Catholic.  These mixed relationships are often headed for heart ache but they seemed only to have eyes for one another and closed to any decent advice, eh besides they may work it all out and have cute little walwok babies.

Xander left early the next morning and Edna when she came down for breakfast was walking the walk of shame, actually she was just flushed and seemed happy.  That was all right by Ted, he was happy too.  He made his specialty a scromlet made with spinach and blueberry jam with real cheddar cheese.  A scromlet is a scrambled omelet.  They had biscuits besides, dog biscuits that were vegetarian of course.  Acacia was quite pleased and asked for her galactic screwdriver, as she trusted Edna right from the start.  Acacia asked Edna if she wanted to go looking for frogs, which she did, leaving Ted to do the dishes. ‘Life sure had taken a turn for the best’ Ted was thinking to himself.

Xander came back over for lunch and Ted took him aside and let him know that under no uncertain terms was he to ever hurt Edna.  Xander took it in stride; he would have done the same for one of his relatives.  Edna’s bum hurt because she sat on the very edge of her seat rather nervous and excited.  This was her first boyfriend since Carl died; someone thought he was a rat when he was a were-beaver.  Very sad story.

They were all eating clementines while peeling them the fragrant spray of citrus oils filled the air with a wonderful fragrance when something Acacia’s galactic screwdriver couldn't even fix...

Part 1.42x10^37

...happened.  It happened fast, as if to spurn the advice from last months edition of "Arthritic Tortoise" magazine.  Gravity, at last having grown sufficiently irritated at man and squirrel-kind's failure to recognize its sentience, finally decided to stop being free, and held the world hostage.  

"That'll be twelve bucks!" demanded gravity, in a voice powerful enough to awaken sleeping prehistoric monsters from the depths of the ocean.  

The voice unnecessarily infiltrated every electronic medium that had speakers.  It spoke in every language simultaneously.  People heard it.  Animals heard it.  Bugs and fish heard it.  It took a bit longer for some than for others to grasp the message.  One guy named Wally who was on the phone with a high-end escort service thought for a second that he was getting a hell of a deal, but his dreams were quickly shattered.  A couple seeing themselves on a kiss-cam for the first time in their lives thought they had done it wrong and were being fined.  A little old man in a convenience store in Brazil thought he was being overcharged for a newspaper, and shook his cane wildly at the clerk for a minute before he came to his senses and just stole it instead.     

Aside from those few, every living thing heard it and grew suddenly terrified of the implications of those words.  Helium manufacturers threw their hands up in frustration.  People who owned stock in Wonder-Bra stormed Wall St. in an effort to offload their shares.  Weight-lifting trainers immediately ordered pizzas and verified their Netflix accounts.  

Across the world, networks hummed with activity as governments scrambled to assign blame.  Troops were mobilized for no apparent reason.  A lot of questions remained unasked, and unanswered.  Whose responsibility was it to pay?  Would there be a new tax in order to cover that expense?  Would that mean fewer schools would receive funding?  What currencies did gravity accept?  Who would collect?  What was the deadline?  How could corporate lobbyists use this to their advantage in the coming election?  

In the doorway to Ted's apartment, Acacia stood wide-eyed and bushy-tailed holding a sack full of frogs.

"What's the matter there biscuit buns?" asked Ted.

"You don't understand" said Acacia, "without gravity, every squirrel is a flying squirrel!" 

"Don't you think you should capitalize "Gravity" now that it's a proper noun?" 

"You're right!" she said.  "We must get to the library as soon as possible and make the necessary corrections!  I'll get a Sharpie!" She took off at full sprint for the kitchen junk-drawer, but got distracted by a cashew and never made it.  

Ted couldn't hear her anyway, as the slapping noises from the big rubber hand on a stick had grown to an impressive cacophony.  Xander and Edna cuddled in the bean-bag chair, enjoying the ignorant bliss of their new relationship and oblivious to all else.  A fly dove headfirst into an open root-beer.  It was at that moment that Ted realized it was up to him and his unlikely team of explorers to single-handedly save the universe.  

About seven hundred thousand other unlikely troupes, including a family of bears, a team of reindeer from the coniferous forests of Northern Canada, a bucket full of banana slugs from California, and a contingent of Merfolk from wherever the crap Merfolk are from, came to the same conclusion and set about single-handedly making their contributions to the situation, but none of those stories intersect with this one and as such won't be mentioned again. 

Part ₤

In the end Ted’s cousin paid Gravity the twelve dollars and Gravity was cool with that. Ted’s cousin Ralph really knows how to keep his head in these perilous situations. With Gravity happy with his twelve bucks the Universe simply went back to normal, well as normal as it gets in Ted’s world anyway.

Ted fished the dead fly out of the root beer and drank it. He was thirsty for all the running around and the thinking.

Warning; Thinking Can Cause Headaches and nausea and in rare instances diarrhea.

Acacia was much relieved and gave Ted a big hug and there was a squishy sound as the frogs got an unexpected hug too. Suddenly there was a knock on the door Edna and Xander were still nodding off from their long night of talking. So, Acacia dropping the frogs ran to the door to see who it was. One of the Merfolk from the unmentionable dilemma was having difficulty getting around being an ocean dwelling creature.  He asked Acacia for a ride back to the ocean or nearest lake. Either would do.

The Merfolk invited Acacia and Ted to their place anytime, like they could breathe underwater or something, or could they? Ted and Acacia declined the lovely offer due to the fact that they didn’t want to take any chances of breathing under water and not being able to. Acacia was hungry so they stopped at the mall to pick up some nuts from Joann’s Nut House and Ted picked up a cinnamon raisin bagel with cream cheese.

While at the Mall a hairy gold fish decided to hold up the nut stand for all the nuts. No one could figure out why but as he carried an M-16 the cashier handed all the nuts over. Man that hairy fish had some nuts. Acacia and Ted looked at one another dubiously. How odd. They ended up as witnesses to the crime and the police questioned them thoroughly.

On the way home they saw a hairy gold fish dropping nuts along his way and they called the police to report it but they said they were too busy to bother unless they had donuts. Ted hung up his cell phone and dialed M for Mockery Man who made a mockery of every situation which he did but let’s face it he had plenty of material.

Finally Acacia and Ted got back home to find that Xander and Edna went their merry way. They had the whole house to themselves. After having been through so much together Ted decided to propose to Acacia. She was taken aback and didn't know what to say. She just left poor Ted hanging. Women...

Episode θ

Ted couldn't move.  He was frozen, as if his psychiatric CPU had been instructed to calculate Pi.  His fragile male ego had pulled back like a turtle-head, and was regrouping. Acacia didn't understand.  

"Do you have to poop?" she asked.  Acacia knew as well as anybody that sometimes it's better not to move if you really have to poop.  Ted didn't answer, he just stared straight ahead.  

"I think you broke him" said Edna.  She hadn't left after all, she just blended in with the couch.  

"Who?" said an owl that had landed on the windowsill.  Edna threw a shoe at it, but she missed and the shoe landed in the fish-tank.  The owl buggered off.  Acacia leaped into action.

"Get me some chewing gum and a car battery, STAT!" she bellowed, and Edna reached for her bulging rattlesnake-hide fanny-pack which she had slung over the back of the couch.  She kept everything in there; Edna was as resourceful an Ewok as they come.  In no time Acacia had returned from wherever she'd gone, and was holding a set of recently-polished electric vibrating nipple clamps.  

"Where'd you get those?" asked Xander, suddenly more interested than usual.  He hadn't left either, he just blended in with all the walrus-related artwork and statues of walruses. 

"I found them in the saddle bags of Teds mega-tricycle" she said, as she affixed one to each of Ted's nipples.  

Acacia wasted no time.  She was a were-flying-squirrel of action.  She placed the chewing gum between Ted's teeth, spooled out a few yards of dynamite chord, and touched the leads to the battery terminals.  

Ted became suddenly aware of his surroundings.  Some unusual things were happening, and it took him a minute to sort them out.  For one thing, he vaguely remembered something about proposing to a giant squirrel.  He also noticed that he was rapidly chewing a piece of gum against his will.   Even more surprisingly, his nipples were jumping around like a pair of baby goats in an inflatable castle.  Also they were beginning to smoke.    

Part too many

As Ted recovered from his fugue state he started to pat out the smoke coming from his nipples and removed the clips.  It was clove gum he was chewing which eased his affront at having it against his will.   Edna asked Acacia what was going on.  Acacia answered with Ted proposing to her.

Ted was still recovering and realized Acacia hadn't said one way or another.  His spirits were sinking.  Edna decided to take some time in her room and study for her real estate agent exam. Ted turned to Acacia and asked her again to marry him.  She stared off into space not moving and then suddenly she turned her head and said “Why of course.”   Ted went into his fugue state again.  Acacia’s heart sank, thinking he had changed his mind after thinking about it too long. 

Ted decided it would be best to give Acacia a good slap with his rubber hand and  bring her back.  She shook her head and prayed that Ted still had the offer open.  He plunged in and said, “Damn girl you‘re the only one I want in this whole wacky universe.  Acacia danced delightedly around the room and then ran headlong into Ted for a giant loving hug.   The two of them looked quite happy actually and it was about time.  In inviting guests to their wedding they invited all the family and the hairy goldfish who’s name was Ahab. Having decided who was coming they had to pick a venue.  The Merfolk invited them to have their wedding in their underwater world and as nice a thought that would be they declined. 

Acacia was getting frantic, where to have the wedding?  She nibbled her nails and shook her head.  She ran around the apartment a few times to work out some nerves.  Ted was kicking back having a beer watching a foot ball game leaving Acacia to figure this one out on her own.  He asked, she plans.  He shows up and so does she it’s as simple as that.

Then there were the flowers to be considered and the bridesmaids dresses which were a yellow chiffon with a bustle and huge bow in back and in front at the chest.  They were horrible just as she wanted them.  Acacia knew that she would be the most beautiful with such horrid bridesmaids dresses.  The flowers she thought seriously about simple daisies or maybe the bird of paradise.  “MMMMM maybe some Dutchman’s breeches.”  Well that was still left up in the air.  Edna was Acacia’s right hand girl and would be the maid of honor if she didn't marry Xander before hand.  Matron of honor then. 

Marigolds and ragweed is what Acacia decided on for flowers.  Colorful yet understated.  Her dress?! She went to every thrift shop she could find and finally found the perfect dress. It was white with tiny red lobsters all over it.  Perfect!  She couldn't show Ted because that would be bad luck but Edna thought it was cute. 

Ted needed a Tux but didn't want to wear one so he decided it would be come as you are.  He was wearing a white tank top and blue jeans with holes in the knees and sneakers that were all frayed and gray instead of the black they used to be.  He was ready for the wedding.  He couldn't understand all the fuss. Acacia picked the spot to get married but they all had to fly to the land down under for she chose the Sydney Opera House.  The hairy gold fish packed light and had no trouble getting there.  Edna and Xander however...

Part Y

...had got hold of an industrial sized bucket of military grade cheese puffs, and were both about armpit deep in it.  Acacia deduced that people might not be excited about eating cheese puffs that had been lodged in the armpits of a walrus and/or an ewok, and made a mental note to remove them from the desert menu at the reception.  Ted, meanwhile, was realizing that his role in the wedding might be a tad more complicated than  he'd originally thought.  He needed to pick a best man, for starters.

The first person that came to mind was his friend Marvin, but unfortunately he had been forced to chop Marvin's legs off with a blunt sword at the behest of that grumpy Canadian warlord when he'd been hired on there as a pit fighter.  Always with the thumbs down, that warlord.  Marvin had understood, and had forgiven Ted immediately in favor of their friendship withstanding the circumstances, but he'd died moments later anyway of whooping cough.  Ted got pretty mad at his high school guidance councilor about that career recommendation after that whole incident.

His uncle Leroy couldn't do it either, he'd been incarcerated for counterfeiting pepperoni coupons and wouldn't be released until after the next fiscal year.  Ted didn't want Leroy's son Schmecky.  Schmecky was an idiot.  That pretty much left him with Ralph, but Ralph was still soaking up accolades from the whole gravity debacle and Ted didn't know if he could make it.

"Guess I'd better call Ralph" he said.
"What's that?" asked Acacia, who was trying to get a last-minute tan for the wedding.  She pulled her head out of the microwave so she could hear him better.
"I said I better call Ralph, to be the best man."
"The best what?"
"Man."
"But you're the best man" said Acacia.  "That's why I'm marrying you."
"That's sweet" said Ted, and went to get his fishing tackle, immediately forgetting about calling Ralph.

A little while later, Ted stood and gazed down into the dark waters between the cracks in the dock.  His mind kept rolling around in different directions.  An old man walked by, and said something to him in German.  Ted understood him perfectly, because nobody had ever told him that he didn't speak German.  I can't tell you what it was he said, because I don't speak German, but it sounded like...

Private Part

... someone gargling and hocking lougies.  Yeah guttural really guttural.  So Ted knowing what the German old man said he yelled in Yiddish something that meant he was a real dick.  Suddenly it dawned on Ted that he had a best man to choose and calling Ralph was his best bet so he pulled out his cell phone and a sonic screwdriver and gave him a call. Ralph answered right away,”Yeah? What the heck is going on?”  Ted posed the question and Ralph immediately accepted as he has family in Oz anyway he could make the trip a twofer. 

            Ted’s fishing line pulled hard and he yanked and reeled it in, it was Ahab.  “Dude do you mind I don’t really like getting hooked in the lip I don’t need any more piercings”  Ahab was right both side fins were filled with metal, definitely an emo kinda guy or maybe Goth.  Not sure on that one but Ted unhooked Ahab.  Ahab said, “No hard feelings if you throw me back.” Which Ted indeed did.  Wouldn't want to have killed a guest to the wedding. It would seem like a bad omen.

             Ted packed up his tackle box and sauntered on home, proud in knowing that he has a best man.  Acacia was having a panic attack because the wedding was so close and she hadn't gotten her shoes yet. One must have the perfect shoes, so she ran down to the thrift shop again and found a matching pair of flip-flops with little lobsters on the top cross piece.  Finally a completed outfit.   She wasn't sure if she should be human or her were-squirrel self for the wedding but it was easily decided as she didn't fit in the out fit unless she were human. That settled Acacia and Ted had a few moments alone.

            “So, are we ready to do this?” asked Ted as if they were going into battle.
            “ I surely hope so aren't you?’  asked  Acacia who was shaking with nerves.
            “Of course I am.” Ted replied. Acacia was put at ease and they both sat down on the couch and heard a muffled voice coming from beneath them, it was just Edna.  She blends so well with that couch, really they should put some neon on her.

             Xander schlepped into the living room and found his one true love, Edna.  “Edna you are the rising moon above a lovely lake.” Said he.

            “Xander you are the earthworms beneath the soil, and I will always love you!” Edna replied.  Xander didn't know too much about earth worms but he knew he would love Edna forever.

            Ahab meanwhile was already in flight to the land down under.  He was very excited as he never had been before.  When they tried to search him he had hair brushes and cockleburs all in his hair stuck there like Velcro. What a mess.  They had him step to one side as the hair brushes were a threat to national security.  He might not be going to Australia after all which would be just a shame, a crying shame.

Part Omega

Everybody made it to the ceremony in the end.  The wedding was lovely.  Acacia was a full-on knockout in her getup.  Edna hired some migrant workers to sprinkle rose pedals down the aisle, and Ted even remembered to load up on Beano so he wouldn't pressure-wash the inside of his shorts with hash-browns when he saw how incredible Acacia looked.  Ralph misunderstood the tradition of the best-man toast and instead served slices of toast to all the guests, but at least it was perfectly golden brown.  Everybody danced.

About halfway through the reception, Xander had a weird feeling.  It wasn't a gut-feeling so much as it was a weird feeling in his gut.  It felt like there was a small Pakistani woman with a loaded man-portable recoilless antitank rocket launcher weapon in his bellybutton.  As it happened, that was exactly the case.  Out of nowhere, who should pop out of Xander's cavernous bellybutton but Kadija, the woman with whom Ted had played Magic the Gathering back in part one.

Having smuggled herself all the way to Australia in the bellybutton of a walrus, she was not in a particularly good mood.

"Holy crap is that a bazooka?" exclaimed Ted.
"No!" answered Kadija, "It's a man-portable recoilless antitank rocket launcher weapon!"
"Should we panic?" he asked.
"I would", she said, and shouldered the man-portable recoilless antitank rocket launcher weapon.

Everybody panicked.  But it was no use.  The hole that had been left in Kadija's heart when Ted had beaten her goblin deck on that fateful night in Alberta all those moons ago had festered into a dark and cancerous hatred for anybody who would use an all-blue deck.

"Damn your Prodigal Sorcerer!"  She cried, and pulled the trigger.

The blast leveled everything.  Nobody survived, even Kadija.  The combination of Ewok fur and walrus blubber created a never-before imagined variety of natural napalm with incendiary properties similar to thermite-plasma.  The tattered skeleton of the building shuddered and collapsed in on itself, and simmered in still-bubbling pools of molten metal for days to follow.

Newspapers sadly reported the horrific news, and every media outlet immediately commenced with fear mongering about the dangers the public now faced with this new and terrifying spike in Magic the Gathering related violence.

In the distance, a wolf howled.

The End