Monday, October 27, 2008

Tastes like trouble: Zero or five point three, maybe

I woke up on the sofa with my papers stuck to my face. I was still fully dressed minus a shoe. There was hot coffee and piece of toast on the coffee table. I guessed it was from her, but for all I knew it was a breakfast fairy.

I wiped the cold sweat off my neck and took off my pant as I went into the bathroom. My Pants slung over one arm and the coffee and newspaper in my hands. Equipped as I was, there was no way to close the door. So fighting my manners I left the door open.

It was loud. It crashed and sent splinters across the floor past the bathroom doorway. I wiped, pulled back on my boxer and stumbled at running pace through the door. The pins and needles struck my nerves like being hit in the funny bone. I lost my balance and went face first into the wall. Burglars beware occupants of this apartment may self-destruct.

I woke up on the sofa with a very large man very close to my face. I was fully dressed minus my pants and a shoe. The man backed up and took my piece of toast from the coffee table. He sat down. Another man came into view as I sat up. He was sitting at the little bar attached to the kitchen. He told me to not look at him; to keep my eyes on his friend.

They were both blonde, and both wearing suits. Their heads didn’t look like the sort of hears that would be sticking out of a suit. They looked like the sort of head that would be popping out of an orange jumpsuit.

Guys, I am a student, and my… roommate is just a nurse. We don’t have much. Just take what you want, I won’t call the cops. I laid it on a little thick. I wasn’t afraid, but like dealing with a wild animal err on the side of caution when dealing with large men that lack the ability to knock. Maybe that had been a knock.

“Right, thank you for getting right to it. If you remain cooperative he might not have to hit you.” He hit me, hard, in the face. “Again.” He wound up for a second strike. “NO!” the man at the bar yelled, “I meant he might not have to hit you again.”

It was a twisted version of mice and men going on in here. I wanted to leave them to each other.

“Hitler’s gold. Where is it?” Although this was actually said I neglected to mention it to the UIO man when I later retold the story. “We know it was discovered in your research, so tell us.”

I really wish I could help you. I was going to get hit again. The big one was taking off his suit coat. I wish I could tell you exactly where it is, I just don’t have that information yet.

“I think you are lying.” He nods upward, “Hit him once, and not in the face, he needs to talk.”

My vision began to fail, like an old movie where the iris closes in. I breathed, and as I got more oxygen my vision came back. I slumped over, and chanced a look towards the door.

“There is no escape for you. No rescue.” He slithered off the stool, his feet hit the ground and he stood up straight.

I gave him the bird, call me a liar, fuck you then. I caught part of a punch to the back of my head. I couldn’t see right again, this time it was stars. So, it was a bad idea to tell them off. I got hit again in the lower back; I spun around and got another one in the ribs. My ribs crashed and sent splinters across the floor past the bathroom doorway. Someone must be at the door.

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