I wrapped my head up in a large cravat bandage and tucked some towel-wrapped ice cube underneath it. I turned on the television and waited for the tubes to warm up. The dog ran to the window and began to growl at something. Probably the neighborhood kids I thought. I didn't like them either. I liked cheese though. So does Fluffy. I decided I'd get some out of the refrigerator and have a sandwich. We didn't have any bread so I made roll-ups instead.
Returning to the den to sit down I couldn't help but notice that the sounds coming out of the TV were anything but usual. Fluffy turned and looked at me and turned her head slightly and asked me if I felt ok. "Yes", I replied. "But I'm not looking to good." I took careful consideration to try and listen hard to my surroundings. Everything I could hear was jumbled and convoluted! The monster in my head pound against my braincap from the inside as if trying to break out. The room began to spin. I ran as fast as I could to the bathroom and lunged onto my hands and knees and crawled all over the floor looking for anything I could have taken to make me feel this way or anything I could take to relieve it. I felt a cold rush into my head and steam out my ears. The dog was barking loudly now but it sounded like a walrus eating cabbages on Tuesday and I could hear my heart beating like it would burst through my chest onto the floor unless I caught it on the way out.
Too many things were going on at once. I found a broken glass test tube behind the toilet and grabbed it in haste. I tore open my palm at the center and blood started to trickle down my forearm. As I sloshed upon the ground the mixture of orange and red came together into a thick, sticky paste. I pushed myself onto my butt and leaned against the wall. The melting ice cubes were running down my face. I was sweating cold bullets. I could feel my pupils dilated, struggling to stay open and grasp at light as a monkey would vines. Water was beginning to rise up to my knees. I must've turned the faucet on in all my madness. I looked down to my feet, now submerged and saw they were bound with barb-wire! A gag had been placed over my mouth and St. Augustine's church choir were standing fully robed, epistle-equipped, singing church hymns over the sound of rushing water, an annoying and low-pitched mutated dog bark, a gavel slamming against my skull, and the shrill scream my soul yearning for a release from the inside.
I passed out somewhere on the bathroom floor again. I woke up on the bathroom floor soaked in some strange orange liquid. Fluffy was curled up on the seat of the toilet above my face.
~The Epic Tales of Joggy-Smokey Lady, Volume 11
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