Madness… takes its toll

Suddenly there was light. I swam to it and emerged into the brightness.

I opened my eyes and found my sight filled with green. I struggled with myself and slowly it came into focus: one mouldy avocado.

Huh.

I was disappointed but I stared at it anyway. It sat there, mocking me on it’s little glass shelf. I was hungry enough that I willed it’s little rotten self into my mouth.

It didn’t budge.

My stomach grumbled and I tried to sit up….*BANG* I hit my head on something above me. What the fuck? I realised I was leaning forward and my face seemed to be wedged in something. That’s not a good sign, I thought. It hurt to think.

The avocado did nothing to help me of course. It just sat there in front of me. Staring at me accusingly… as if it had eyes. Or thoughts. Or something… Let me eat you dammit!

I tried to sit up again… *BANG* – “Oh you motherfu”… but it ended with the same result. There was something just above my head. Something solid. Something cold, and so very bright.

Mustering my strength I heaved, and pulled myself backwards, falling to floor. “I’m free,” I yelled. It hurt to yell.

Looking around I realised was the kitchen. I’d fallen asleep with my head in the fridge again.

Huh.

That’d been happening a lot lately.

I stretched and suddenly felt light headed. I turned and let the all-too-few contents of my stomach slide into the sink. Something for my wife to wake up to, I thought giggling. It hurt to giggle.

——–

The next few hours were kind of hazy, except for the overwhelming stench of day-old cottage cheese but I came round again stumbling outside olilolo tower. Why I was here? I did not know. In fact I had not been into the office in weeks. Not since… that news… of my wife being… suffering from… betraying me with… preg… I dashed towards the homeless man sitting outside and threw up in his collection hat.

The thought was driving me to sickness. That and maybe dozen or so Jägerbombs I had last night. I flicked ‘crazy-eyes’ a fifty ‘for the damage’ and wandered back towards the entrance of the building. I tried to push all thoughts of my wife from my head as I hurtled toward the top floor.

The lift doors opened and I stumbled through. Faces looked up at me from their desks. Faces of surprise. Surprise, which slowly turned into the broad smiles of actual happiness. A rush of excited office girls came towards me. I knew what they were going to say. What they wanted to know. To squeal, and exclaim.

I ran.

I ran as fast as I could to my office, knocking over stupid little peons and the odd water cooler on the way. I dared not look my assistant in the face as I dashed into my office, switching off the light as I went. Immersing myself in darkness I collapsed in my chair.

———

Hours later I emerged, hungry and looking for food. All was quiet and I slowly opened the door. As I tip-toed out the door I heard a bumping noise. I dropped to the floor and commando rolled under my assistant’s desk.

Someone was walking down the hall. I could hear their muted footfalls against the carpet. A conflict raged within myself: within moments they would find me, huddled under a desk like a common madman. I couldn’t let that happen. Not again.

Trying to be as silent as possible, I put one hand up and felt blindly around on her desk. My hand fell upon something large, and heavy. Just before the footsteps stopped in front of me I sprang forth with my new found weapon and thrashed the skull of my would-be-discoverer.

Huh.

It was Chan the poor illiterate cleaner, unconscious on the floor. Without much thought I grabbed his vacuum cleaner and used the electrical cord to bind him tightly.

Satisfied, I grabbed the vacuum and started to drag his sorry arse across the office. I whistled as I went, things were finally looking up. I was out of the house, the office was deserted, and Chan’s severe malnutrition made moving his body a breeze. I was lucky I didn’t knock out Bertha. Now there was a mass that only a family sized sedan would shift.

“Doyle?”

Shit! Shit, fuck, cunt! I wasn’t alone. Someone was still here. I panicked. Who was it this time? Suddenly Peter’s pasty, sunlight deprived face shot around the corner. I sighed with relief.

“Ah, Pete. Thank fuck mate. It’s only you.” I dropped my cord and walked over to his office. “So what’s up?”

“Just working late. What about you hey? I heard the…”

“Shut up! Shut up now.” My back arched.

“Ooookay. Taking it well… anyway like I said I’m just working late. Check this out.” Peter round his computer screen and ushered me over.

I looked down at the screen. Dozens, upon dozens of pictures flicked past. Pictures of half-naked women… drawn half-naked women.

“Uh huh. What’s all this? Been doing some serious downloading?”

Peter tore his gaze from the screen and looked up at me in shock. “Downloading? I’ve been drawing. These are all mine.”

… … … I was speechless

“I spend my nights here alone with my pictures. Imagine… why go out and meet dirty, dirty strumpets when I can construct myself the perfect woman right here.”

“Oh yes, these perfect little specimens. The delicate curve of the face. The supple delights of the thigh. The full and glossy tail… and I know they are pure. Look at the innocence in her eyes. No man will befoul her. No…”

At this point Peter was trying to cradle and stroke his computer screen. I was just glad his pants were still on.

“Oh… okay.” I said standing up. I slowly backed out and Peter came hurrying after me.

“You’re not going to judge me too are you? I thought you’d be different than… what… what are you doing there?”

Shit! Shit, fuck, cunt! I had forgotten about Chan.

Peter crept forward and as his eyes met with the cleaners vacant glare, he went white. As white as a half-Asian could go, I thought. I chuckled to myself. Heh, racism. Hilarious.

“What… what on earth are you doing with Chan?”

I was snapped out of my bigoted daze and was brought back to reality. “What? Oh, well… it’s a long story. Basically it ends with me stashing old Chan’y boy here in Stu’s office. What d’ya reckon?”

It was Peter’s turn to be speechless.

“The way I figure it is, he won’t be any worse for wear and first thing tomorrow morning Stu’s oh-so-devoted assistant will untie him… and she knows better than to ask any questions of her ‘superior’. Remember that time there was a sheep running around up there? No? That’s because she does her job well. She’s used to Stu’s… ‘indiscretions’. Also when she eventually grows some self esteem and sues him like the rest, I’m sure she’ll tell the other girls and there’ll be one more rumour about him around here he’ll have no idea about.” I grinned. Apart from a few disturbing revelations about my friend, it was a good night.

Peter was slack jawed. Drool had started to form in the corner of his mouth.

“Ahh… Pete?”

Suddenly his face twisted in disgust. “You… you don’t mention my ‘hobby’ and I won’t mention the assault, unlawful restraint, and kidnapping?

Before I could agree Peter turned away and stormed off towards his office, muttering under his breath. I thought I heard ‘kitty girls’ but he was gone.

There I was. Alone again as I returned to my dragging.

Five minutes later I was closing the door to Stu’s office, bottle of his finest sherry in hand. Job well done.

—–

Sirens! Light! Light and sirens everywhere!

I crawled under my desk into the darkness. In the distance I could hear yelling; screaming; then obscene, angry shouting. It sounded like Stu. Screaming about something. Innocence. Mistakes. Set ups.

It was too early and I stopped listening. Settling myself in, I drained the last of the bottle of sherry I was cradling and drifted back into darkness. A darkness filled with flashes of kitty-girls, Asian cleaners, and much, much worse.

The excruciating presence of pregnant traitors.