A Little Bit of Fun!

Hey, everyone!

So, I got into an interesting conversation on Skype the other night with a few friends, and it kind of deteriorated into a bout of free-writing, in which I came up with the following scene. The inspiration came from a discussion about Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and the fact that I started reading Naked Lunch a few days ago. So, yeah... it's really weird and really silly. So, just sit back, relax, and enjoy this short bit of craziness for now, while I try to write up something very good and very special for you guys!

Thanks!

- Alina MacLeod

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I grabbed Kitty by the lapels and screamed, "Dammit Kitty! I got this catnip just for you!"

Kitty pushed me away, salty tears staining her cheeks.

"No! I'm not going down that path again! I've changed!"

I wrung my hands, the chills beginning to creep in. I needed a hit. Bad.

"Come on, Kit," I moaned, clutching the bag in my right hand. "I can't do it alone. Just do one hit with me, please?"

Kitty shook her head vehemently. "I don't do that junk anymore, Alina," she said quietly, backing away towards the bathroom door.

I reached out one quivering hand, my mouth opening and closing, but no words passed my lips.

"Just one... please?" I could feel that pull, that ache in my veins. It was tugging, man, singing in me. 'One toke, man, one toke,' it sang.

"No, Alina," she said. "I can't, you know I can't. I gotta live... I have Hep C. I can't waste my life in a bathroom stall, doing catnip off the back of a toilet tank."

Her words were tinny, as if she were speaking through a thin-necked bottle. They echoed in my head, a garbled mess. The catnip shook in my right hand, my nails poking holes in the plastic bag.

"Kitty... my sexy kitten, come on," I moaned, moving forward. But my knees were weak, they gave out under me. I collapsed, but still, I tried to move toward her, crawling along the floor like some weird serpent, tweaked out on all sorts of chemical compounds.

Kitty looked down at me for a moment, and I saw a brief flash of disgust. Me, there on the floor. I must have looked like something horrid, loathsome. A reptile, skittering forward on all fours, tongue lolling in and out, searching for something to touch, some chemical zap.

And then, she was gone, the bathroom door closing slowly. I grabbed the handle, hauling myself up. The bag ripped, and the sweet dried green, the nip, spilled down on the linoleum.

Tongue lolling, I dropped to the floor, my face resting next to some sort of substance that had crusted there, I lapped at the nip like a lizard. In-out, in-out.

Sweet ecstasy, sweet release. Colors, sounds, electricity, man. It hummed, in my blood, in my mind, in my soul. My blood sang, a song of color and light. Explosions. Everything reeling, like a crazy-ass merry go round, spinning and spinning, faster and faster.

Someone was shouting, "Roaches!" down the hall. And then I was rolling on a carpeted floor. In the bar? In the lounge? Somewhere. Anywhere. Everywhere. There were other people, other strange night-things like me.

Some lapped at chemicals, the way I did. Some breathed them in like a fog. Others had the green stuck in between their teeth. Didn't matter. We were all animals by then.

Then there were drums. A train? The night, the moon, outside somewhere. Me and three others. No, four. We all heard the music, man. And the drums. The beat moved us forward...

(And, this is sort of where everything deteriorated into madness, and the story was lost to time and space. So... the end?)