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.