“YOWZA!” yelled Jerome.
He stopped twitching.
I stared at him.
The HR lady barely glanced at him as she continued searching for some tea.
Star Child Two continued its flight, now humming something that could have been “Canary In A Coalmine”.
“That’s….it?” I asked, completely letdown.
“Yeah,” said Jerome. “Just some aftereffects from all those visits to Crack Whore Village!”
“I thought it was ‘Crackwhore Village’?” I asked as the anger rose from my bowels to my throat.
“Cherry pie, pumpkin pie,” answered Jerome.
This didn’t help me.
Or my anger.
“You mean you strung us along for absolutely nothing? Bob didn’t, say, whack you around a bit with the sledgehammer, bushel of mallets and the bicycle chain just so you could fit into a Bob suit and then release you on the world so people would think you are him while he sits at home doing who knows what and you traipse around doing who knows what as him only to end up here as him and get us thinking that we would finally remember what Bob did and, hey, I like me a bowl of dried Cheerios every now and then!”
“Yep,” said Jerome. “That’s about it!”
The HR lady found some tea.
I suddenly remembered I had a crumpet in my back pocket.
We sat down to drink, eat and think.
Star Child Two was now humming something that sounded like “Whiskey Train”.
More Lunatic Ravings…
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