• 48



    Initially, you walk inconspicuously down the aisle with the lunatic’s back to you. The munching noises must mean he’s eating some of the cookies.

    “Um, excuse me,” you say. He turns around like a dog snapping at someone’s hand in the vicinity of its food bowl – his snarling teeth soiled with Oreo gook.

    “Oh, I…was just wondering what you were eating.”

    “I gotta have my medicine medicine.” He breaks out a pill from a nearly empty packet and sticks it in between the crème of an Oreo sandwich. “I take these for my tourette’s…and for my brain brain brain shift.” He eats the cookie in one bite.

    “Brain shift always gives me headaches headaches headaches.” He goes on cramming more double-stuffed Oreos into his mouth and talking.

    “You see, I have to have my my electric. And my electric gives gives gives me brain shift – that’s what my psychologist calls it when I have altered altered states of consciousness consciousness.”

    The munching and the pill-popping continues until an offbeat crack sounds off inside his mouth. The grimied lunatic reaches in with his fingers and pulls out a small plastic ring.

    “What is that?” you ask and then add, “It looks like a decoder ring.” An alarm goes off, almost in response to your spoken observation.

    “Uh-oh-oh-oh. They must’ve found found found us.”


    Go to page 183.


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