First good, painless night writing/editing I've had in over six months. Progress being made again, MRI next week. Literal first draft, so everything will change and typos and yada yada, but...enjoy! Who knows how long the spine will hold out for me to keep going, but here's hoping!
***
Camping Test weekend.
Here at last.
One month down, ten more to go.
Only ten more to go…
Not a single dead body, but a few epic anima
discharges along the way.
Max won the prize for the Most Embarrassing. Never seen anyone shoot piss across a
bathroom like that, much less all the way to the ceiling, and sure as fuck not
for almost ninety seconds straight. Like
the poor kid was trying to control a fire-hose, but he only had a few inches to
grab on. Damn near lifted him off the
ground at one point. Not that I saw it
all, took me a minute to run into the communal bathroom and…thought someone
maybe tripped and busted a knee, but…even after it was over, poor Max looked
like wanted to die. Now I’m worried
he’s gonna shotgun a hole through someone every time he whacks off!
Most Dangerous went to the Kanes. Starting their usual sibling argument shit—so
fucking happy JoJo wasn’t a mancer at this school or things would’ve gotten
bloody!—over which was better and then suddenly they ain’t glaring
eyeballs, they’re both glaring big spouts of flame at one another. They didn’t smolder themselves, but their
colors caught on fire. Had them rolling
on the ground, blasting them with an extinguisher and whatever dirt my
geo-anima pool could add to the mix. Was
plenty embarrassing too, being they had to walk half-naked into the Infirmary
and stay the night for observation…
And yes, I noped out like a pussy before Miss
Strange started blaming me for any of it!
Camping Test weekend.
The first day in a month where I get to be me
again. Think for me. Not think for thirty fucktards. And a dog.
Can’t forget the dog. Or his ass.
First day where I get just a little bit of my
Asylum life back.
Didn’t think I’d miss it, but I did.
Wasn’t even day yet.
Earlier.
Super fucking early.
Had-A-Coke-Binge-And-Woke-Up-In-A-Whorehouse-Bathtub
kind of early.
Everyone else got to sleep in cuz…weekend…but not
the Foul Mouth.
I was in charge of the Singles.
I had duties.
I didn’t get to dream about sunshine and rainbows
and…mountainsides that won’t shut up about weird anima shit.
Not everyone.
Mr. Gullick is leading the test this year and Wolfgang von Welf has to
run his pack out to the camp site and there’s the bus driver and…and you! King Henry Price! Special purple penis butterfly, just like you
always wanted!
Technically I was only supposed to head downstairs
and wake up Class 2015, but if I have to be awake and it’s a holiday and
all that, why should I put a cap on my joy-o-meter?
Joy-o-meter should go all the way to the fucking
moon!
Also…I might have double dosed some special dark
sin death-god European style Espresso something or other coffee that I pilfered
from Welf a while back and…it hadn’t fixed everything in my life—still very
horny—but the rest? Felt really fucking
awake right now. Like…my eyeballs had
eyeballs and they were wide open too.
And I might not like waking up in the
pre-morning-even-roosters-still-sleeping of a holiday weekend, but…waking up other
people in the pre-morning-even-roosters-still-sleeping of a holiday weekend?
All those dorm doors!
All those sleeping friends just wasting the
day away!
Double Sin Eater Cat Scratch Fever Coffee
said: of course you should, King Henry,
of course you fucking should!
Geo-anima just bubbled on up as rebellion and
havoc raced through my veins right beside all that caffeine. Slammed my fist into Jesus’ door right next
to mine. His fault for not moving away
yet. Not that anyone would have traded ,
but with Athir dead and Isabel imprisoned there were open spots.
.
.
.
Yeah, that joke is a little fucked up even for me.
But…Midnight Demon Razor Blowpop Coffee said: you’re so funny, King Henry!
I slammed my fist like five more times in quick
succession.
Ain’t a tall man, won’t ever be, but I inherited
my father’s massive hands and knuckles.
Made for some explosive raps and some solid thuds.
Door opened just a sliver.
Dark inside.
Only light was from a television in the bedroom, playing static
insanity. Even the LED lights in the
hallway were still stuck in power-saver mode, little embers of orange
uselessness. Might not trip and break
your neck, but couldn’t read any graffiti painted across the walls. Got to use glow-in-the-dark stuff…if you
like…wanted to write ‘Welf likes being pegged’ for any reason whatsoever…
Jesus met my eye.
Just the one, rest of him hidden behind the door.
Eye promised pain.
So much pain.
Stray dogs pissing on my porch, gnawing on my
ankle, eating my cat, shit like that.
Returned him something that could vaguely be
described as a smile. “Mornin’, Lord and
Savior, have you heard the good word?”
He took in my colors, fully dressed for my
day. “You’re a pendejo, El Rey.”
“Camping Test weekend, ol’ buddy, knew you
wouldn’t want to miss any minute of it.
It being your first truly big Book Keeper event and all that, bets
coming in from every angle, side bets on top of that, teachings wanting in on
the action. Really don’t want to
fuck it up…especially after all the arguments got started about whether
lesbians counted for your first bet given the wording you used and then the
way—like by magic more powerful than the Mancy itself—there was this totally
organic extra argument about how it was sexist and bigoted if they didn’t
count…on some thin ice, ol’ buddy, on some very thin ice…”
Jesus’ eye got across that it might not be a stray
dog doing the pissing on my porch. “How
long are you going to keep punishing us, El Rey?”
“Oh, I don’t know…not that much longer…you are awake
for the day, right? You ain’t gonna go
back to sleep when I leave, are you? Anyone
at all could stop by, banging on the door, since some totally random person
might spread the word that you’re already open for business…”
Jesus’ eye got across that it would neither be a
dog nor would it be piss, but from the other end. “You haven’t made a wager, I noticed.”
“Insider trading, ain’t it?” I swapped from smile
to canine grin.
“Bet on Leah, didn’t you?”
“Well…given the boys in Class 2015, it was pretty
obvious she was the only one ever seen someone else's vagina before.”
“Or maybe it’s harder for you to rig the Camping
Test.”
“Nah, obviously about how honorable and noble I
am.”
Bed squeaked behind Jesus like someone had gotten
out of it.
We stared at each other for a spare moment.
“Hope she’s prettier than a goat,” I forced myself
to tease.
“Pretty enough I don’t mind their being no
hooves,” Jesus quipped back.
“Also hope she ain’t Hope…”
He grunted, subconsciously sliding the door ever
slightly towards closing. “Least I have
something to do now you woke me up.”
“You didn’t kidnap Tossy for the night, did
you? I’d have to report that shit…”
“El Rey, how much caffeine did you gulp down?”
“Wasn’t the size so much as the fact it was less
liquid and more coffee-flavored syrup that I'm pretty sure made my pubes vibrate Thunderstruck all the way through the first chorus.”
“El Rey…promise me you’ll never do cocaine, okay?”
“Sure. Good
advice, Jesus, good advice.”
