5-6-99 11:36 PM
In the Drunken Whorish Fever
by Ryan Munevar
Word Count: 1,145
Ohh Jesus… Where am I? What the fuck am I doing in an elevator? Think damnit. What was the last thing you did? Is that a wine bottle in my hand? Why, yes, it is. A little sip won’t do any harm.
Tastes horrible. Dead grapes turned into purple-red piss. Maybe I’ll have another one.
“Sir, are you going up?”
What the fuck? Who said that? I’ll fucking kill you for sneaking up on me like that. Oh, it’s just some girl behind me. Pretty little thing. I bet she could suck a mean dick.
“Sir, are you going up?”
Do I have a hard on? I don’t see one. Say something, damnit. Turn on the charm.
“Is it that obvious?”
She smiled. Look at that. I think she wants to molest me.
“No, Sir. I mean, are you going up or getting off? The elevator.”
Don’t I feel foolish.
“I think I’ll get off here.” (Getting off? Is that an offer?)
Make an exit. Go out the doors before they cut me in half. Jesus, where am I? What building is this? I know this building. I think I have class here. But do I have a class right now? Am I late? Must find a clock. Then a whore. To hell with class.
“Hey! You can’t bring that in here!”
Goddamn teacher assistants. Ugly fucking wench too. Obviously the product of incest with a dash of bestiality.
“Did you hear what I said? You can’t bring that in here.”
What is she pointing at? Oh, the wine. She doesn’t like the wine. Maybe I’ll just share some with her.
“Oh! You sick bastard! I hope you burn in hell!”
Maybe I shouldn’t have spit it in her face.
“You know you love it!”
“You can go to hell! I’m calling security.”
Oh, I like her. She’s got spirit. Reminds me of a horse the way her nostrils flare like that. But the whores. I must find a whore.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, spitting wine at people!”
Jesus! Someone’s grabbing me from behind. Help! They’re going to sodomize me! Shit yourself if you’re overwhelmed. That’s what you’re supposed to do in prison. Make them find you distasteful. They won’t breed with you if you’re covered in feces. To hell with that! I’m gonna take as many as I can with me. Use the bottle! Use the bottle!
“Oh my head! He hit me in the head! I’m bleeding!”
“You want some more, motherfucker?”
Damn, that bottle broke easily. Now I’ve lost all my purple urine. What am I to do?
“He’s crazy!”
But you look so pretty covered in all that cheap urine and blood. What’s this? A whole horde of them! They’re coming out of the goddamn walls! The goddamn walls!
“Back! Get the fuck away from me! I’ll rape your face if you come any closer!”
Dozens and dozens of them! They’re screaming. They fear me. I shall show no mercy.
“Please! We didn’t do anything! We’re just on break!”
Calm down, calm down. Stop sweating. They’ll think you’re crazy. She’s right. Whoever the hell she is, she’s right. They are just on break. Go! Go before they catch you.
“He’s getting away!”
That goddamn woman again. Must hide. Must piss. Find a bathroom. There’s one. Quick. To the urinals. Those blessed urinals. Damn, that feels good. Nothing quite like pissing. Ahhhhh… So good. I’m in heaven.
“Oh, my God!”
What the? Jesus! There’s a woman in here! Some dirty whore is watching me. Is getting off on watching me piss. I do not condone it.
My god! There’s at least a dozen in here. Is this the men’s bathroom? But wait! There are men in here too. This is confusing. This is… Oh dear lord, this isn’t a bathroom. This is a classroom! What the hell have you done now?
“What are you doing!”
That’s gotta be the teacher yelling at me. Quick, put your dingus away. No, shake off first. Stop screaming damnit!
“Excuse me…. I think I’m in the wrong room.”
My God! It’s a poetry class. Nancies… Every last fucking one. Poetry, the secret language of the faggots and dainties. Women in poetry. That’s what this snake pit is.
Run, run like a skinny black man. Out the door, down the hallway, more people screaming, sweet Jesus, that fat pig’s coming after me.
“Stop him!”
Run, run, run… Hide in here, through that door, hold it shut. Hold that handle as best you can, he’s kicking and screaming, jerking the handle, wedge it shut with that damn brown thing.
Another classroom. It’s quiet now. So quiet, where did the security guard go?
“Forget your pants?”
Who the fuck said that?
“What?”
“I asked, did you forget your pants?”
Oh shit… I’m not wearing any. How the hell did that happen?
“Are you trying to get a fucking rise out of me?”
“No partner, just wondering.”
“Do you need any help?”
Who is this bald fossil? Who the hell does he think he is, asking me if I want help from him?
“No, I don’t… Jesus!”
“It’s so big!”
What pretty little whore said that?”
Where the hell did that security guard get an axe from?
“I’m gonna kill you, you little shit!”
Oh yeah, he loves me… Fuck it. Run. Run before he hacks his way through the door.
“Get the fuck outta my way!”
Why are these people in front of me?
“He’s going for the window!”
Damn windows! Only open a few inches. Grab that chair! Come on, you tubby bitch, move it!
“Get outta the chair!”
“Please don’t hurt me!”
Damn sows! He’s almost through the door.
“Come on baby, suck in that gut, I ain’t got all day!”
“Please, I don’t even know you!”
Take hold of the edge, see if you can tip her out of it… That’s it, roll, roll your fat rolls down to the floor.
“He’s crazy!”
One, two, fuck it! Now that’s an explosion of glass!
“Don’t do it!”
Use the chair, get all the glass, don’t want to cut myself now.
“I think he’s gonna jump!”
“He is jumping!”
“It’s two stories up, boy, it ain’t worth it!”
Oh shit, this is kinda high… Sip some whiskey from the flask. Think, think about it.
“I’m gonna cut you up!”
The man with the axe… Not to be toyed with. Fuck it.
“Jeronimoe!”
Ugh! Ground… Gravity. You bastard.
“Ohh my god he made it!”
Run, just run out into the night… So tired. So tired, think I’ll take a nap. This grass is so nice. Wish I had my blankie with me.
Oh look… A real live coyote. So pretty. I wish I had a dog. Dogs are so good. Sleep anywhere they like. I wish I was a dog.
So tired…