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Nate and Todd were supine on the hood, the moon acting as the night's muted TV. Jess wouldn't leave the truck cab. He told them he was "just chillin'" but really that last wave of highness hit him while he was driving - with them on the hood, driving, slowly, in the woods - and he started getting the worst deathlike images in drive-distracting flashes. Not even related to what was happening, just horror show shit familiar enough to hit home. His footmeat mashed down the parking brake and the last click may have been his knee. He sat coldly, thanking fucking god he wasn't listening to Turin's shit tonight and wondering if his teeth were going to stay in.
"...it's like there's an object for every emotion I've ever had. In WalMart. There. Like think kids. That's easy. Everything in the kids I'll [sic] is about feeling like a kid, pouty kid, happy kid, soiled kid, it's all right fucking there."
"pouty kid." Todd said this without using his voice box. His lips moved properly, but the sounds were Puh Ti Ki Tuh, and had rythym. If he were alone, he'd probably make the sound a few hundred times, varying the rhythm slightly as an internal orchestra adjusted its tempo to his performance.
"Think about pain. Like the worst fucking kind. For me, that's floss. Or funny. That's a lot of things, but uh apple is one, 'member?"
"sooowwwelllly what would a enema be, emotion-wise? h-heee." Todd never said "um," opting rather for a single neologism, formed entirely of drawl, the syllables always unique. It's the hick-est thing he does, unless selling meth is more so to you. He also has a "stupid, annoying, girl-ass fucking laugh," as Nate once put it.
"Chaye! Zuz! You're not." Deep breath; the air relieved of his effluvium for a moment. "Listening." Nate totally akimbo here - usual for him at this level of thought - talking to the trees instead of the sky.
"Not all them (pronounced "thumb"). Just the ones in the store work. Yeah, the ones in the store, but not, the fuck..." - deep breaths. Mucus sounds emerge like a rotting cavern (the green speleothem make my description here especially apt).
"See, it's like a one-way metaphor, you see? The feeling has an item. But not every item has a dedicated emotion. Some, most, are just stuff, you know?"
".." Nate's most recent nickname, Turin, had a remarkable power to shut him up. Todd was just learning this, and wondered how long this name would last.
"..have you ever been to Super K? I think they have fresher produce."
"'fresher produce?' What kind of shit is that?"
Date Written: March 08, 2005
Author: Blister Buddy
Average Vote: 3