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 ...
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