Rat Face, Part 7:
Rat Face dreamed of tall pine trees and a stiff breeze. Raw gasoline. Black smoke. He was running through palmetto. He ran and they followed. Brownshirts--four of them. They screeched through their mouthplates. He could not turn. If he did they would catch him, turn him into meat. They would feast on his red strands and pale skin and toss his offal to the pigs. Grunts and screams followed him down a slope and into a clearing. From the clearing he could see the Gulf. Oh god the beautiful Gulf. If he could make it to the Gulf . . .
"Time to wake up."
Rat Face woke to blinding white light. Grit teeth.
"He's up," someone said.
Rat Face tried to rise, but found himself strapped in. "I can't see," Rat Face said. "What's going on?"
"Turn it off," someone said.
A metallic click. The light was gone, leaving blinked afterprints, red-yellow circles seared into his mind. He tried to break the straps but strong arms held him down.
"Relax," someone said.
Rat Face opened his eyes. He was in a small dark room lying on some kind of table. Before him stood two tall black-haired, black-eyed women in gray canvas jump suits. The right one had a face like a porcelain doll. She eyed Rat Face with a curiousness reserved for small ugly children.
"I need to go," Rat Face said.
"No you don't," said the woman on the right.
"But I'm Rat Face," he mumbled. "Rat Face don't quit."
"Oh, we know all about you, Rat Face."
"Who knows about me?" Rat Face said.
At this moment a dark door opened and two figures emerged. They joined the gray-clad women at the table. These two wore horse masks.
"You're from Aesop's," Rat Face said.
"Yes, the horse masks," said the woman on the left. "So little you know. Perhaps we'll tell you more?"
"I like learning," Rat Face said.
"We'll tell you a story. But you have to behave. Is that something you can do--behave?"
Rat Face smirked. "What choice do I have?"
"Not much of one, I'm afraid," said the woman on the left.
"Well, lickity-shit," Rat Face said. "Beer me a story."
Rat Face dreamed of tall pine trees and a stiff breeze. Raw gasoline. Black smoke. He was running through palmetto. He ran and they followed. Brownshirts--four of them. They screeched through their mouthplates. He could not turn. If he did they would catch him, turn him into meat. They would feast on his red strands and pale skin and toss his offal to the pigs. Grunts and screams followed him down a slope and into a clearing. From the clearing he could see the Gulf. Oh god the beautiful Gulf. If he could make it to the Gulf . . .
"Time to wake up."
Rat Face woke to blinding white light. Grit teeth.
"He's up," someone said.
Rat Face tried to rise, but found himself strapped in. "I can't see," Rat Face said. "What's going on?"
"Turn it off," someone said.
A metallic click. The light was gone, leaving blinked afterprints, red-yellow circles seared into his mind. He tried to break the straps but strong arms held him down.
"Relax," someone said.
Rat Face opened his eyes. He was in a small dark room lying on some kind of table. Before him stood two tall black-haired, black-eyed women in gray canvas jump suits. The right one had a face like a porcelain doll. She eyed Rat Face with a curiousness reserved for small ugly children.
"I need to go," Rat Face said.
"No you don't," said the woman on the right.
"But I'm Rat Face," he mumbled. "Rat Face don't quit."
"Oh, we know all about you, Rat Face."
"Who knows about me?" Rat Face said.
At this moment a dark door opened and two figures emerged. They joined the gray-clad women at the table. These two wore horse masks.
"You're from Aesop's," Rat Face said.
"Yes, the horse masks," said the woman on the left. "So little you know. Perhaps we'll tell you more?"
"I like learning," Rat Face said.
"We'll tell you a story. But you have to behave. Is that something you can do--behave?"
Rat Face smirked. "What choice do I have?"
"Not much of one, I'm afraid," said the woman on the left.
"Well, lickity-shit," Rat Face said. "Beer me a story."
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