Lost Time Incident

February 21, 2003

He Sleeps to Conquer

I'm not the one you should be worried about.

"Oh?"

I'm the smallest of small fry.

"We don't agree, Henry."

I'm the little pyramid shaped corner of french fry you find at the bottom of the bag. Deep, deep brown. Too hard to chew. Smally small fry.

"Is he all there? I mean, can he--"

"You know, I’m not asked to do this sort of thing very often, man. Interrogations usually aren't what I do, you know? I studied hypnosis for years, man, but my emphasis was in like--"

"But you've done it before. Because this is very important. Henry's an important client. A bona fide secret agent and we want to know what he knows."

"I've done it before, okay? But I don't have a routine or anything. I wing it."

"Wing it."

Echo, echo, echo. No luck in love that way.

"Look, man, just let me do my thing and you just make sure your tape recorder's picking everything up, okay? Especially since-- since you put this manila folder on top of the mic! Geez!"

"It's sensitive equipment, so forget about the folder. Just go. Find out what he's been up to."

I haven't been up to anything. They talk through me, they don't talk to me. I just pass things along.

"What messages have you been passing along."

I was trying to tell you.

"Go ahead and tell us, man."

"No more creamer for the coffee. Shit. What kinda outfit we runnin' here? No creamer, hypnotists—shit."

I wanted to warn you. Warn you about the Sad Man.

"Uh, what makes you think we have to be warned? Do you think we're in some sort of danger?"

I haven't been up to anything, but he has. He's the guy to watch out for. He has a Sadness Gun. I read about it.

"Where did you read about it?"

Comic book.

". . ."

Top secret comic book. Listen. He's the best agent we have and he'll make you all sorry. Sorry you ever messed with me.

"You think we're messing with you, chump? We haven't done anything yet! The last guy we had in here, I had the skin on his left leg removed and replaced with a knit wool leg cozy! Think about how much that would itch, wool where your skin used to be!"

"You, uh, you do realize that he's hypnotized, right, and so can't really make out what you're saying if you talk that fast? Look, just... I've got this under control, man, I'm a professional."

"Can you make him cluck like a chicken?"

"I didn't come here to be insulted, okay? I happen to be--"

Cluck, cluck.

"See, now this guy's like laughing at me and I'm trying to keep him hypnotized. Please stay quiet. Geez."

"Jesus. Sensitive."

He felt for all of us.

"Okay, Henry. Tell me more about this agent. Tell me about the Sad Man."

He has a sad gun. Misery gun. He's the saddest man in the world and it gives him power.

"What does he mean by 'misery gun?' Ask him. Is this something new, some new invention?"

He takes baths. The sadness just comes sliding off of him. Comes out his pores. He can't escape it, so he spends hours in the bath, staring at the tiles or crying. It comes off of him and finally he gets out, gets his gun. Mmm...

"Hey. Tell me about the gun, Henry."

It's hollow. He holds it under the water and it fills up.

"You're talking about a water gun, man?"

Mmm... yes.

"Oh, okay. All right, forget about the gun. Tell me about the Sad Man, instead. What's his real name?"

I don't know. All I know is-- if he shoots you with his gun, you'll wish you were dead. Everything you've ever done comes back. Washes back. Aims for the ... mucous membranes. Can practically smell it. Despair in his clothes.

"He's delirious. This is useless."

"Well, I've got a contract with your agency, so I'm not done until that minute hand rolls around to 15 after and my hour's up."

The Sad Man carries a gun of despair and it leaks. His pockets are wet. His eyes are wet. He can speak in tongues, they say.

"Speak in tongues?"

Yeah. They say that everybody hears what they want to hear, so he can go anywhere he wants. He can infiltrate. He just says something and you hear "I have clearance to go wherever I want."

"We're supposed to believe this? Look, we'll pay you for the full hour, but I’m gonna duck out and get the sap. After a brief lead sock workout, I bet I get more outta him than you have. Comic book bullshit."

"Suit yourself, man."

He suits himself. He has a suit that looks like himself and he can go everywhere in it.

"Look, Henry, he's gone. You can drop the bullshit. You and I both know that you're nobody and we never should have bothered you."

Fa ma lo theem aow wa ko key ben pee.

"See, I knew we could be reasonable about this."

Loo ken bee wo.

"No problem. No problem. Hey, and about the hypnosis thing? Nothing personal, right? I don't want anyone to get the wrong impression."

Posted by Michael at February 21, 2003 09:49 PM