BLINKING CITY
The first chapter
Kill all organic life, and talk to the kitty. "How this red rain hath made
the harvest grow," Mittens said. I drag another beer to my lips and wish
like f**k there were at least a recording of a human still left. I miss
hearing a voice other than my own, and my cat. Sometimes mittens will get
too clingy and needy or maybe just bored. Staring at me all day. Like an
annoying little sister, only with out the luxury of being able to say "Mom,
she's staring at me again." I ponder my beer and twinkys again. It's too
precious to eat, too rare of a treasure. But with out people value is
nothing more than fuel for another fight between Mittens and me. Yesterday
I threatened Mittens with one of my beers. She found a knife somewhere, and
so remained as the alpha. Nothing in the sky tonight. Just this empty city
blinking it's Morris code to me again. "He's little and blue, and has
nothing in his pockets." Says the City. I can't stand another night of this
pointless story. I only hope that at the end of it there's something to tie
it in and make sense of it. I can't wait for it to be over. I masturbate on
a raw chafed penis thinking about the one thing that could anchor me in
reality. The one grace that could give me a grip on what's real… that
would be to use my seances again. Smell, touch, taste. you have no idea what
torture it is to not have that until it is gone.
Mittens continued.
"For years I have been waiting. Waiting and wondering. I sit and I wait for
am I not the waiter? Alchemy is not as Canadian as I want to believe."
"Is that all you do?" I say wanting desperately to interrupt this cat's
incredibly stupid ramblings. "Just try to sound deep, and spiritual with
your nonsense?"
"Nonsense?" Mittens echoed, "HEED YOU WELL THIS MESSAGE!" Mittens said
shaking her knife, "YE WHOM SO EVER PISSITH ME OFF SHALL GET THY SHANK!"
"If you don't like me, and just want me to kill or die in the first place
then why don't you just kill me now?"
"But who else is gonn'a scratch my belly?" she said changing her tone of
voice.
Feeling much better than I was 5 times this year I stomp in her head for
the 3 time today. Once she is dead so I grab the knife and try to become
the alpha. As Mittens inflates her undead head to life I hide the knife like a child that knows hes done wrong. Maybe this new personality Mittens will have will be easier
to get along with. Finding nothing better to do I read the story the city
blinks to us in morris code.
"To have not, to want not, to receive not. These were the bastardizing lies
given among the back street Wizards and Gurus at the time. To trust not, to
need not, and to give not, these were the forbidden truths given among the
places only the ragged people go. Some believe only that what they are
allowed. Others believe only what they choose. But Mefogro believed mostly
what people couldn't bring them selves to think of, let alone except it as
truth, making him closer to the right path then most people."
At this point of the story it was almost daylight, meaning that this long
slue of nonsense will finally be put on hold till the next sleepless night.
Mittens will once again make me go out and find anything alive and kill it…
as many times as it takes for it to die. Upon my exit I can't help but to
read the stop lights and shop windows blinking it's Morris code.
"And so," the city continues, "The song carried on to the depths of the
valleys, and to the ocean beyond. They kept it and loved it, and forced it
to breed by the points of there swords. In return it gave them the smell
of…"
SMELL? S**T! WHY DID THIS F*****G CITY HAVE TO BRING THAT UP? God I wish
I could smell again! I can hear and see, but that's about it. This f*****g Kitty
enslaved me when I was just a kid. Back when there was at least a hand full of people left.
"Why'd you f*****g stomped my head in yo." Mittens said now struggling to
get on to the ground. "Don't you know that's like bad karma and s**t?"
"F**k you." I say, as I drop her.
I continue with mittens following behind singing something about a guy
named K.C. Jones that rode a train while high on coke. Mittens stopped
singing and sat down.
"What?" I ask.
"F**k" Said Mittens, "that's a battle boy."
No sooner than she had said that then a totem pole looking thing came out
of the ground right next to me.
"Human!" he said. "Well well, that's f*****g weird. And a model xc40. I
though"
"Protocol 19" Mittens interrupted.
"Ummm… That's a really old protocol you know."
"I got him killing off what organic life there is left. Theirs a bomb in
him, and one in me. They send a beacon to each other, so if one of us goes
away from the other we both blow up."
"Interesting." Said the battle boy.
I pull the knife from my jacket instantly plunging it into Mittens and stab on each syllable, yelling
"And it's NOT F*****G FAIR! YOU GET TO DIE EVERY DAY, AND I CANT EVEN GET A
BREAK!! I JUST WANT TO DIE ONCE AND YOU WON'T EVEN LET ME F*****G DO THAT."
Today's score me, 2 Mittens, nothing.
"What about your body?"
"I can't feel, smell, or taste."
"I was to believe that you people can't function with out being able to
feel."
"That's been taken care of."
A long silence there, And nothing more as we stared at each other in
cold blooded hate.
"I can kill you, you know." The battle boy said.
"Please?!" I respond. "I'm not being sarcastic. Kill me. This f*****g cat
won't let me f*****g die!"
"See that's the thing I hate about you! Things like the difference between
sarcasm and what ever the other thing would be. You f*****g humans and your
f*****g logic! You are all so alike. Dirty milk suckers! That's what killed
you, you know! Your f*****g logical predictable asses!"
I could see that he was preparing a laser for me. Now I know that I want
to die more than anything, but when he started talking about how much he
hated my race something in me just snapped! I stabbed that f****r until he
couldn't talk any more, and took Mittens to the hill to kill more weeds.
CHAPTER NEXT
"You say that you want me to kill these plants, but when ever we get here
all you want me to do is scratch your belly."
Mittens didn't respond to that, just purred. This new personality was not
so bad really. Some of the same words as the one before, but not bad. I
think I heard this kind of talk before. Back when I was a kid. It was from
an old man Mittens made me kill. Mittens purred and sang a few bars about
some guy named Johnny, and about when he comes marching home after a war.
"Damn it!" I say pulling out a Twinkies from my pocket. "I'm f*****g bored!
I want to kill some weeds! Let me finish this job so I can die!"
"If that's what you gott'a do." Said mittens. I put the Twinkies in my mouth
just trying to remember what it tastes like. The sweet fluffy texture the
intense rush of sweetness, the soft cream filled center. Oh god… As I work
mittens does what she does every time I'm working, walking, or just hanging
out. Mittens tells me a story.
"So one day," Mittens starts, "Tarry was sitting in class minding his own,
when the teacher comes up and asks if any of the kids have there science
projects. Tarry stays in the back of the room being quiet, and trying not
to be called on. Most of the students came up and offered something to put
in the fair, but not all of them 'cuse it was volunteer for credits. Tarry
hated the teacher, because the teacher treated him like an idiot. Tarry
weren't the brightest in class. In fact Tarry was lucky to get a C in
class. The teacher obviously singled out Tarry all the time. If that teacher
ever saw the bruises on Tarry's back she might have known why he was always
tired and hardly did his homework, but in those days people didn't care as
much 'bout it. Jeff just finished showing people how to make an egg get
sucked into a bottle with a candle. Tarry taught it was all just pointless.
"I'll bet his daddy helped him." Tarry said to the person next to him.
The teacher snaps "Tarry did I just hear you again? You have no room to
speak young man."
"Sorry," said Tarry.
"And besides," continued the teacher "Maybe if you did things like science
projects I wouldn't have to call your father about every day."
Tarry couldn't take it any more.
"What makes you think I don't have something? You called on every body but
me. You always call on every body but me. You just assume that I never have
anything."
"Ooooohhh, so you do have something. Well well well. This should be good.
Come right up, and show us, Tarry."
'What have I gotten my self into.' Tarry thought. No time to do anything
about it now. With out an idea at all of what he was going to do Tarry made
his way to the front of the room. Tarry stood there nervously eying the
class not sure what to do.
"Well," the teacher said, "We're all waiting."
Tarry put his hands in his pocket, and felt the cold steel, and was
suddenly inspired."
"Our population is growing at fast rate. Too fast for us to really handle.
When this happened to the deer's in the '80's we found that opening a
hunting season to kill off the over population helped. I think the same
should work for us."
And with that Tarry pulled from his pocket a small revolver that he steals
from his dad without him ever noticing.
"In this gun there are 6 bullets. I'm going to kill me, and I ask some of
you to do the same. Together we can save the world."
And with that he put the gun in his mouth, and killed himself.
I really must say," said the teacher, "I am impressed, however I see no
sign to show the other students that are coming to the fair. Oh well I
guess I can print something up, but rest assured your father will be
hearing about this." And so his dead body was put upon display with the gun
ready to kill 5 more people."
"God you make bad stories." I tell Mittens.
"Well f**k you mother f****r. I don't need your mangy a*s any ways."
"No," I remind him, "You don't! These plants are going to die soon what
with what your doing to the air! You don't need to keep me killing things,
you do just fine on your own with the all the fire, and shooting things
with those lasers things. You keep me around just to keep your self
entertained. I feed your twisted little kitty head."
"Is that so?"
"Sick a*s pet."
"You call me sick when you been killing me all damn day. I just wann'a tell
stories."
"Yea," I say shifting gears on this conversation, "What's up with that? I
mean why do you guys all tell stories all the time."
"All I know for sure is that before they came I was just a little stuffed
cat for some rich f**k that could afford having his cat stuffed. Now get
your a*s back to work… mothafucka."
"No."
"What the f**k you say?"
"I'm taking a break."
"B***h I liked you better when you was all scared!"
I sit down and open up a can of pork and beans I found in the patch of
weeds. and lean on the wall of the city hall building. Mittens keeps on
rambling on about how I need to treat him with more respect, and something
about this is his world now, and back in my day, blah blah blah. I swallow
the beans whole. I can't feel the pain of gas bloating, and I may as well
see if Mittens has a sense of smell. When all you see has become a living
hell time slows to a stand still so thick you can feel it crawl against
your skin. Mittens tells another pointless story, but I ignore her. I think
about my situation. I'm a slave. I'm the last spawn of humanity dressed in
rags. The only living testimony of a once proud race, made into the most
humiliating and lowest position there is. My crime is being alive, and my
punishment is to kill. I hate my captors, and all else I see. I end up
thinking about it too much. About how I didn't do anything to deserve this,
and about how fucked up it is that I can't have a will of my own far enough
to even die. I sit, and stew and dwell. Rage builds like a pressure cooker
until I feel like I'm, going to blow up. Sometimes in a fit of anger I'll
just go into a blind rage and destroy anything I can find. Then I feel even
worse because that makes me the obedient slave that Mittens wants me to be.
CHAPTER LAST
The city speaks;
"It's p***y that makes the world go round! Yes sweet p***y. P***y, and
money! But when all you got is a 3rd party check don't try to go finding no
p***y."
"P***Y!? WHY DID HE HAVE TO SAY THAT?" Mittens said. This is the first
night that I have ever wanted to actually listen to the story the city was
trying to tell me.
"He tried to fight it, tried to deny it, even tried to run from it. But all
he got in return was pain. The worst kind of pain. Pain with out muse."
God I know what he's talking about. Artists often find inspiration from
pain. I'm in the worst kind of pain every day, and I can not create. Only
destroy.
"To kill! That is the answer! That is the only way to get your kicks!"
Mites is interrupting too much, so I kill her for the 11th time today.
"The same mother that talked him into dropping out of school to get a job
when her dead beet husband wouldn't even look for work. The same mother that told
him to flee his probation in order to send her the money to send to the
probation officer. The same mother that was spending that money behind his
back went into the probation office to turn in her only son. The same son
that was the only one left out of 3 children that would talk to her. 2
weddings and 3 grandchildren denied from her arms and she f***s up the
relationship with only child that would speak to her."
F**k. It just got boring again. Oh well. Mittens is alive again, and I
believe I have just gotten up the balls to ask her something I've been
meaning to ask her for a while now.
"Hay do you remember anything about being alive? You know before you became
a stuffed cat?"
"If you mean one of you dirty organic milk suckers then thankfully no.
Why?"
"What it like to enjoy something?"
"What?"
"Well… I've never experienced pleasure. You know just wondering."
"You are to be used, not educated."
I mumble 'God f**k you,' under my breath, and get up to walk away. Mittens
trails me as always, I ignore her making her follow me to the pile where my
stack of decaying pornography is.
"Anything in those them there photos about rubbing my tummy?"
I grab an armload of it, and start putting them in an empty metal barrel. I
guess I was just home sick for the days when I was a child and there were
still a few people left who would stand next to a can of fire, and talk. I
found a zippo a couple of days ago, while I was cleaning up weeds, and was
suddenly reminded of when people used to set fire in these metal barrels.
Mittens keeps running at the mouth like a dumb a*s as I collected the wood.
"Supremacy s**t! You guys were nothing! We never felt threatened by people.
You practically kill yourselves! I mean f**k, insects out weigh you 3 to
one. If you were to weigh you people against bugs they have you beat 3
times over! Humanity was nothing compared to cockroaches. And bats! … Oh
and the Germans. HEY WHERE DID YOU GET FIRE"
Happy to see that mittens was not rambling anymore I sat down.
"I just missed the old days when there was still fire. Hey you know if you
are all bent so much on killing then why did you kill everything that can
make fire."
"Well I must admit, we were a bit hasty on that one," Mitten says as she
crawls on my lap, expecting her belly rubbed again. I sat, and waited for
the mood to gradually get slower. The sound of the crackling fire relaxed
Mittens and I and made us a target for anything that wanted to attack us.
With real slick acting I say to Mittens, 'lets stoke the fire,' and start
to get up. Mittens adjusts with out suspicion, until she is near the fire.
In the blink of an eye she's in the fire, and I grab the lid to the
trashcan and cover the rusted burn barrel. She must have been shocked
because she didn't scream right away, but by the time I got the rock on top
of the lid she started screaming like have never heard before. High pitched
demonic chirps loud as an air raid shook the holes in the can with my sudden
joy! I swear it felt like I was flying when I ran. I had no idea how far it
was going to take to finally free myself from this s**t hole, but I had to
try. My heart was beating so hard I could hear it. All I could do now was
look for some living dead manufactured product to take down with me…
I don't know what time I woke up, but the sky was really bright. I finally
realized that the hand that was shaking me awake was connected to a clown.
"Did I ever tell you about Gabe McCarton? About 10 feat tall, 197 pounds.
Had arms like poodles."
At this point I grab the clown, throw him down, get on top of him and yell.
"What the f**k are you doing? A f*****g story?! Who the f**k are you what
the f**k are you doing here!"
"I'm candy, and I'm here to tell you a story." His face was not at all
afraid. If anything he look like I was in the middle of a joke just before
the punch line.
"Is this heaven? Is this hell? Where am I?"
"You are in earth? Or on it. Or whatever."
Suddenly I notice that my hands are scaly and blue. I step away to see
that my body looked like a naked upright blue lizard only with pink c**k and
balls.
"What the f**k happened to me?" I say more to my self and in the whisper
that happens right before you cry.
"Oh you look different ea? Well death dose that you know. Changes
everything about you."
"Death?" I say between silent tears of frustration. "But I'm still alive."
"Wow you must be new at this. When some of us die we get new personalities,
and some of us get new looks. Some both. And some others something entirely
different. And some*"
"What am I?"
"Looks like a blue lizard man thing with a d***o sticking out."
"No I mean what are we all that we change like this? What dies and comes
back again? What happened to Earth? WHAT THE F**K ARE WE?!"
"Gabe McCarton decided to that his mind just might be made up in to maybe
knowing exactly what he means in saying that he wants to be rich!"
I couldn't stand another story. I just picked up a jagged piece of glass,
and cut his head off. The clown didn't relay die. His mouth just kept on
moving as if I could still hear the story. I took his clothing to have
something to wear, and then I realized that this whole time I could feel.
This place may smell like s**t, but at least I could smell. I wondered on
not knowing what to expect, and no longer having a routine."
"So what about Mittens?"
"I saw her the next day. Mittens had taken on the personality of a child.
She didn't recognize me, but I killed her any ways for old time's sake. So
to make a long story short, if you want to fit in to here Charley kill your
self and do it quick, or you could be spending the first and most
blissfully ignorant days of your life as some dumb f***s slave, just as I
have."
"I don't know. Your story has a lot of holes."
"Go ye now and do likewise. Tell true stories that is. Fiction is for crap
and that all anyone dose these days. Now lets be quiet. The city is about
to speak."
"But you haven't told me anything! This is just some tripped out story about how you had some amount of logic before you died! What are we? How is it that a wallet like me can move and think? How is it*"
"I said shut the f**k up! The city is blinking."
"But," Charlie says
"Look! I just wanted to tell a story."
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