8.21.2010

THE HUNGRY MAN CHRONICLES: PART 16

Continued from PART 15

I was like a good student that night, sitting in the chair while Wana explained the workings of the world to me. I sipped wine while I caught glimpses of a pizzas being created in the kitchen. But in all honesty, I wasn't paying attention, I was just nodding my head and smiling, asking questions when she paused and acting confused when she told me I looked lost – just like a good student.

“So you see, Biggadoo is where people become.” Wana concluded.

“Ah, right.” I nodded, and caught myself sounding bored, “So what, who who am I supposed to become?” I quickly added to revive my interested status.

The interest status indicator stayed green, “That's for you to find out,” she unconsciously scratched her groin, “explore the city, meet and talk to people,” I nodded and smiled, and wondered if she gave these lectures to all her clients, and then wondered if all her clients did the same kind of wondering, “there is a kind of magic in the city that really opens you up, that's your problem, you're not opened up, wouldn't you agree?”

“Ah, well I wouldn't say that, I'm a very open person. Open to new ideas and stuff, that's me.”
She slapped me hard with her palm on the top of my head, “No, you look closed to me.” She thwacked me on the same spot again and examined me, “Yeah, you are definitely a closed-off type of person.”

The crowd parted as a large animal moved towards us. I heard gruff grunts as it moved through the crowd, and a few people stumbled backwards as it passed but after a quick look of annoyance they resumed as if nothing happened. A giant ape-like man stood before us, with a thick head of hair and puffy sideburns. He stopped, sniffed and scanned the room, drilling everything in the path of his vision with his intent stare. He spoke to Wana in a deep low voice, “I smell pizza. I'm hungry!”

“We'll order food in a minute, I want you to meet my friend Tog.” She looked at me, “This is my friend Andrew, I asked him to join us.”

I didn't ask why he was dragging a dead deer by its neck, nor why the creature's entrails were hanging out of its arse dripping blood all over the floor, “Hi Andrew!” I said as if I was a schoolteacher welcoming a new student into the class, but this guy was not even close to being the new kid on the block – he stood there with a take me to your leader look on his face. I stretched my hand out as if I was sticking it into a lion's mouth to shake his, I looked at his large dirty hands which could fit two of mine, enough dirt under a single nail to grow a small household plant. He didn't see my hand, or he saw it and didn't see the significance of the gesture.

He looked at me and then looked towards the kitchen, “I want food.” I giggled when I thought I saw a gun tucked into his trousers, and quickly sobered up when I realized that it wasn't a trick of the eyes – this madman was in possession of a fifty calibre pistol! Andrew garnered my respect.

“Okay! we'll get food in a minute, Andrew!” Wana looked stressed.

He looked agitated. Being in the proximity of an unpredictable human with the technology to puncture my body with big pieces of solid metal made the blood drain away from my face. “It's okay, we'll get some food! I saw a man holding a tray of empty glasses, and I waved my hands in the air frantically. The waiter hovered over a few tables, but did not see me, he began moving away towards the bar. My hopes of rescue died as he vanished into the kitchen. I turned back to face Andrew and smiled through gritted teeth.
A few people who were nearby and presumably had a visual of the weapon got up and left, abandoning their seats. Andrew made himself comfortable in the centre of the couch. Wana said she was going to order some food and that she would be right back, she dissolved into the crowd. Andrew's booted leg swept the coffee table of glasses and slung the dead dear onto it.

“Sit next to me you faggot!” he called to me.

“Sorry?” My voice sounded whiny, and did resemble his insult somewhat. I brushed some imaginary hair from my face.

“Just fucking sit down next to me!”

I stood up, and felt small in his presence, like an ant. My brain was conflicted with thoughts telling me to do otherwise, but those mutinous feelings were quickly extinguished as the rest of the brain aligned itself with the new regime – the order of Andrew the Giant. The couch cushions swallowed three quarters of my physical appearance making me even smaller. The giant smelt of sweat, leather and cheap boisterous cologne. I looked up at him, “Hi!” I sank further into the couch as I fluttered my hand at him.

“If I don't get some fucking food now, I'm a gonna tear strips off that there deer and start munching it raw right now!” He shouted loudly to make sure that everyone in the pub could hear, but they carried on with little regard for the safety of their own lives, ignorant of the time bomb that sat next to me. I told myself not to sweat – things like that could trigger the destruct mechanism wired into this man. But it was too late for me anyhow, I was beyond saving; I was now merely a witness to the slaughter that would soon take place around me. Too late, my mind had already hopelessly given in to the mysterious Stockholm Syndrome; no way, I'm going to mess with this bad boy – he's the best friend I've got right now. So I pictured the ensuing scenario, where he would wipe out everyone, save for a few survivors, and give me the gun, then tell me to compliantly shoot them in the head to forever seal the eternal bond of our new found friendship that was forged from fear. That would be the best case scenario... The worst case scenario might involve a cannibalistic orgy with elements of necrophilia thrown in for good measure.

Wana re-emerged from the thick undergrowth of sweaty and inebriated social bodies. She had the type of look on her face which you only saw in survival movies, the one where the reconnaissance party comes back and the leader tells everyone that none of the food from the crash could be salvaged. I edged away from the time-bomb and squashed myself against the arm of the couch.

“I've got some good news,” Wana ran her fingers through her long hair, I could see that it was a wig because her scalp slid backwards by a few millimetres, “and I've got some bad news!”

The time-bomb did not flinch, he appeared to be in stand-by mode. Everything depended on Wana's next few words.

“Well, they can make pizza for us, but they don't have any tomatoes left for the sauce, so it's going to taste a bit plain.”
I felt the urge to contribute, “That's great man! I love pizza without sauce – it's the best kind!”

The time-bomb turned his head to the left and froze for a few seconds, then rotated it back towards Wana, “Okay.” The following words came out slowly and mechanically in a monotonous tone, “I suppose I can eat pizza without the tomato sauce, but it was not what I originally wanted, but I guess it will have to do.”

Wana breathed a sigh of relief, and the tension leaked out of her shoulders, “Okay, we're going to eat pizza!” She ran back to whoever she was consulting.

Andrew was picking his nose when I turned to check his temperament. “We gonna eat pizza soon” he said in a rather childish voice.

I wasn't sure whether I could stomach much, not with the carcass that was rotting in slow motion before my eyes on the coffee table. Don't they have hygiene laws in this place? Then I remembered something that Wana had said, a facet of information that had somehow made it into the deep recesses of my memory while I hadn't been paying attention: anything goes in Biggadoo, there are no laws, people can do whatever they want as long as they are willing to accept the consequences of their actions – then everything made sense.


to be continued ...

8.11.2010

THE HUNGRY MAN CHRONICLES: PART 15

Continued from PART 14

We got back to the hotel room at a few minutes and some seconds past six O'clock-ish. Vana had once again primed herself for bed while I rifled through my meagre belongings - nothing was missing from my suitcase, what a relief, but what a shame that we had to leave so early when I was just beginning to enjoy the band.

“That was fun, I haven't had that much fun in a long time.” Vana said as she stared beyond the mouldy ceiling.

“It was good, yes, very enjoyable, the band performed with authority and escorted the audience to a comfortable place in the imagination” I felt as if I was giving a book review.

Vana chuckled, “We can always go back later.” She patted the bed, and I decided to use the toilet.

The bowl hadn't been flushed, I gagged a little as I aimed my pee around the floating faeces, until I remembered that I could have forgotten to flush earlier, and then I relaxed the leash on my urine and turned it into like a fairground game to try to submerge the logs. “No giant teddy!” I giggled girlishly to myself while I pulled the chain. Suddenly, to the corner of my eye, I noticed something glossy against the wall. It was a porno magazine. That wasn't there earlier! The turds spun in the murky liquid, then disappeared. I felt ill, I had used someone else's creations for my own sick fun. I was a disgusting person doing horrid things for my own personal pleasure. Then the realization of being in a hotel for perverts hit me, smack like a fish that thought my face was water.

I stumbled out of the toilet, slightly queasy. People were doing nasty things behind these closed doors. I need to talk to someone. The hallway strained to maintain a perspective, my room seemed far away. It felt like a million cogs were spinning too fast in my head, churning out steam from all the friction of unlubricated wheels. I reached the door and wrapped my hand around the icy door knob. My olfactory system had become over simulated by the claustrophobic musty smell of the place that had taken root in my nostrils and begun to claim my brain like a dense suffocating jungle. My vision dissolved as black creepers grew from the edges.

Within the next minute, I was gazing at a female version of me, and she was looking at me. Her voice was distant at first but gradually became closer and clearer as I felt myself become more grounded in familiarity. It wasn't me, it was Wana, and as my senses came back to me, I realized that I was lying on the floor of the hallway. “Tog? Can you hear me? Are you okay?”

“Hey,” I heard my voice was strange and tired, “How long ...”

“A couple of minutes,” Her eyes searched for signs of damage, “I heard some noise and found you on the floor.”

Music blared from a bar in a street nearby. The sound of cars and people expanded into my awareness. “Don't worry about me, I'm fine.” I smiled weakly, but it felt genuine. “Let's get out of here – I need a drink!”

“Are you sure?” She helped me up onto my feet.

“I think so.”

Wana took me to a quiet pub through the forgotten small winding streets of the city away from the throng of party-seekers. Moving through those tangled, grey, dirty streets made me forget about what happened back at the hotel, or thinking about the safety of my belongings, instead I let the city suck me into its capillaries. I'm on holiday, I reminded myself.

The sky was already dark, and the warm glow of incandescent lamps punctuated the cold blue buildings. This strange city had presented me its first task, to follow Wana, and trust that she was not going to lead me to be ambushed by a gang of blood-thirsty robbers. My mind was still functional yet I felt detached from reality. I just wanted somewhere to sit down, and as I thought of all the nice things that awaited me at the destination, like a comfortable chair and a glass of red wine, we arrived. Wana must have walked me in a circle because the pub was just a few doors away from our hotel – Anyhow, I was too tired to argue, I couldn't have walked another step, so I allowed her to lead me to a plush armchair and ordered me a glass of red wine from the bar.

Gradually, the surroundings sunk into my senses, and I realized that we were in quite a crowded place. There was lively chatter and laughing around me. There weren't many places to sit, and the chair that I sat in was still warm – Wana later told me that an old man gave up the seat because I seemed so weak, that explained the crazy elderly guy crunched up on the floor between two sofas who wouldn't accept my seat offer.

I caught a glimpse of a chef tossing a pizza base into the air as a door swung open than shut behind the bar counter. Wana waved her hand in front of my eyes, “Hello, over here Mister Sleepy Face!” she called playfully. She was sitting on a coffee table opposite me. “Don't worry Tog, you will get used to this place.” She steadied my glass holding hand, I had forgotten about the wine. “There are things you will discover about Biggadoo that you won't find in any tourist brochure or internet website.” I took a sip of red wine, it tasted good. A couple of tall provocatively dressed women walked towards us, one of them winked at me, then whispered in the others ear, and they both looked at me and giggled. As they walked past, I noticed that they had square jaws and wide shoulders, and adam apples. “This city, is very open-minded, it is a place where you can be who you want to be, and nobody will question that.” A look of pure wickedness crept across her face, “You aren't aware that I am man, right?”

The news didn't bother me, but the fact that she expected me to react when I was being calm did make me feel self-conscious, so I ended up being lead into acting astonished, “Oh! What!?”

“Don't be angry with me,” I over acted, “I should have told you earlier, but thought that you knew that you checked into a transvestite whore house.”

Then I was genuinely surprised, “I did?!”


to be continued ...



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