Rat Face, Part 6:
This was no good, Rat Face thought. The man was going to gather his friends. In Trash-Town no one had friends, but men would gather in solidarity if they felt slighted. And men were always feeling slighted. Usually they deserved it. Rat Face knew this. He had once been one of these men.
"What'd you hear about Lex?" he said to Emmie.
"I heard he was on the outs, and that someone was going to help along the inevitable. Naturally I thought of you."
"It's tough beans," he said. He took a sip of his milk. It felt different in his mouth--extra frothy, maybe.
"Tough for you, maybe. Nothing that hasn't come before. Porks, Lex--all these good for nothings. Lex was no star, not in my sky."
"He took care of me."
"I know. You've told me a dozen times."
"I have?"
"You get drunk and won't shut up. Kinda like you're doing now."
"I've only had one drink. . ." Rat Face started to say, but trailed off. He felt dizzy, slippery, like his head had gone to jelly. Afraid he might drop his glass, he went to set it on the counter and found that he had already dropped it on the floor. Glass shards and splintered ice.
"What?" he tried to say, but his mouth was stuck at "Wuh--"
And as he slipped off the bar stool he found himself lifted and carried by four horses. The four horses of the apocalypse, he thought, just before everything went black.
This was no good, Rat Face thought. The man was going to gather his friends. In Trash-Town no one had friends, but men would gather in solidarity if they felt slighted. And men were always feeling slighted. Usually they deserved it. Rat Face knew this. He had once been one of these men.
"What'd you hear about Lex?" he said to Emmie.
"I heard he was on the outs, and that someone was going to help along the inevitable. Naturally I thought of you."
"It's tough beans," he said. He took a sip of his milk. It felt different in his mouth--extra frothy, maybe.
"Tough for you, maybe. Nothing that hasn't come before. Porks, Lex--all these good for nothings. Lex was no star, not in my sky."
"He took care of me."
"I know. You've told me a dozen times."
"I have?"
"You get drunk and won't shut up. Kinda like you're doing now."
"I've only had one drink. . ." Rat Face started to say, but trailed off. He felt dizzy, slippery, like his head had gone to jelly. Afraid he might drop his glass, he went to set it on the counter and found that he had already dropped it on the floor. Glass shards and splintered ice.
"What?" he tried to say, but his mouth was stuck at "Wuh--"
And as he slipped off the bar stool he found himself lifted and carried by four horses. The four horses of the apocalypse, he thought, just before everything went black.
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