Wednesday, May 11, 2005

   When Chibis Attack! Part 4
The sky is blue, high above me. Sun hurts my eyes, but it feels good. My car door is notably solid; real, even. Hum a cheerful little tune: glad to know I'm not crazy, or at least sane enough to drive. Even the rattle of the wiggly bumper sounds refreshingly lucid as I pull out.

"So, we're finally alone."

Crap.




"Nice job ditching Hug Boy, by the way. I don't go for the clingy types either."

Chibi Gojyo is trying to look sexy lounging on my front passenger seat. It's hard to look sexy when you're half as wide as you are tall, but he's still trying very hard. I suppose he'd have to stand on the seat to whistle at any girls outside...

"Why don't we go have a little fun, then? Just the two of us..."

Ah, shi...

"Um... Excuse me..."

Breathe.





"Aw, man! Hakkai, you're always ruining my cool!"

"I'm sorry, Gojyo, but there are a few things we need to pick up..."

How many of more are back there?

Ha ha. None. No, there's nothing there at all. The road now, focus on your destination.

"The liquor store."

"Whoo-yeah! Baby, you know where the party starts!"

"Gojyo, I'm sure she'll make other stops. And please get off the dashboard. This car doesn't drive itself, you know." No, ma'am, that was not a hula doll you saw on my dashboard. Hula dolls run in nicer company, and there are dances they just won't do. I wish it was a hula doll.

"The liquor store."

"Yes and..."

"The liquor store."

"...uh-oh. I think she's losing it again, Hakkai."

"Then sit on the seat and be quiet before we both die messy, messy deaths."





As long as I only look at the road, the voices are voices on the radio. And the head that occasionally pops into my rear-view mirror is... a trick of the light on my tissue box. Curse those fancy new age patterns.




The Liquor Store.

"Rum."

Life, it occurs to me, is composed of long strings of auto pilot separated by short bursts of wondering what the hell just happened.

This is the shelf. This is the bottle.

"That's the one for sure," says my left ankle. "I could hardly lift that sucker. Of course, it got lighter as it got emptier, ha ha!"

Hardly lift -- is that so? Cobwebbed cogwheels turn. This bottle goes back. That bottle is one class larger, and yet more welcome. My blissfully ignorant left ankle begins to celebrate loudly. "We're having a party tonight! You'll have to pour that sucker..."

Yes. Yes, I will.




I cannot completely ignore the sudden, muffled squeak, followed by dragging sounds. An unfortunately placed anti-theft mirror shows me Hakkai dragging Gojyo, bound and gagged, back out to the car. Lil' Hakkai gives me a gentle wave on the way out.




The till.

"Hey, I could have sworn I saw something moving over there. Was it a rat?" asks Mr. Minimum Wage-Clerk.

"Yes. They're everywhere. Filthy creatures."

Outside, to gently cradle my bottle in the sea of junk that is my trunk. Its safety is paramount.




I wonder if this is how sidewalk shouters get started. When your own hallucinations ignore you, perhaps you begin to shout at passers by.

Nonetheless, I must get back into my car and drive home. There, sweet unconsciousness awaits.





"Um. If you'll stop for groceries," begins Hakkai, Negotiator at Small, "I'll cook dinner tonight. Of course then, if we don't stop, Goku may try to eat you in the night."

"I will not be conscious to know about it."

"Ah. Well. Kougaiji probably wouldn't approve, and he and Goku can be very noisy when they get scrappy. It could keep you unfortunately conscious."

"Rum will solve that problem in high enough quantities." It is an excellent solvent for dissolving these kinds of problems.

"I see."

There is a minute and blissful pause.

"You're out of cat food."

A moment of sitting in the exit of the parking lot, contemplating the meaning of my life.

"I'll go get cat food."

Grocery Store, here we come. My senior kitizen has me well trained, and will smother me with her fuzz if I don't bring home the biscuit.
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