#viewing a tarantula behind glass is like. perfect experience.

[orcelito]

No one likes my posable black spider that I have hanging off the rungs under my bed :(

I named her Periwinkle <3

[bbrandy2002]

The Getaway

Part Two

A/N: This is obviously a continuation of a birthday fic I wrote for @ao719 that is now 2 weeks late 🙈 I was dealing with stuff, dont judge lol The writers block and doubts were for real yo! But thanks to my Tumblr bestie, who wouldnt let me quit, encouraged me, talked me through this thing and gave me ideas, it finally all came together.

Anitah, I apologize for being so late and the silliness of this fic and if it's terrible. I still hope you had a wonderful birthday and are blessed with so many more 💜

A/N/N: Thanks to @burnsoslow for beta reading and literally a thousand other things.

Warning: A lot of bad language, a miserable Drake Walker and violence involving tasers, fires, animals and car accidents ... No one dies people!

**Drake and Liam belong to Pixelberry, Nikolas belongs to me, the driver and mailroom guy belong to @burnsoslow​ and Liam's secretary belongs to @ao719​

Drake stepped out of the truck in a furor, cursing under his breath, to check on his damages. The front driver tire had fallen into a deep ditch, and it was evident by the thick mud it sunk into that it would be next to impossible to get unstuck without some assistance.

He shook his head, gritted his teeth, and the veins in his neck enlarged and throbbed. As he knelt down to assess the damages further, Nik hopped out of the truck and stood over Drake. With one glance, Nikolas clutched his belly and let out a loud continuous cackle that soon sent a storm of hot blood that seemed to collect in Drake's crimson-colored face.

And the laughter just got louder and louder.

And the laughter didn't stop.

In Drake's head, it sounded like a thousand Niks laughing simultaneously, each one with two horns, a pointy tail, and a pitchfork in hand. 

His anxiety took over.

He stood up, and in an attempt to let some of his anger out, he kicked the tire with an enraged shout that echoed beyond the heavily-forested valley and sent flocks of birds in a frenzy.

The tire's air must have been over-pressurized by the drop's force and popped as soon as Drake's foot made contact. He fell back onto his ass with a heavy thud causing Nikolas to screech out in more laughter. Drake sat up into time to see the front bumper and side panel fall to the ground.

"I think your truck is broken, Uncle Drake," the prince chortled.

Drake's head whipped around and glared at the boy. "No shit! What the fuck are you even doing here? You're supposed to be on a plane to Paris."

Nikolas shrugged. "This sounded more fun." 

"This isn't fun, you little asshole!" Drake jumped up and attempted to lunge at the boy, but slipped in the mud, caught his balance for a split second by grabbing onto a tree limb, then slipped again, before wiping out completely. "Son-of-a-monkey-fucker!"

Drake laid on his back, staring up at a large tree branch that hung overhead, praying to God the damn thing would just fall on him. 

Nikolas walked over to him and looked down on the face of fury. "Is it time for dinner yet? I'm staaaaaaaving!"

"Nikolas," Drake groaned then took a deep breath, his back mud-soaked and achy. "How? How in the hell did you pull this off?"

Nik plopped down on Drake's stomach, causing him to grunt loudly. "Easy. I told my dad you invited me, and he let me go. He was happy you wanted to spend time with me." The Prince smirked.

Drake gritted his teeth. "And he just believed you? Fucking Liam."

Nikolas shook his head. "No. I got Neal in the mailroom to pretend he was you on the phone."

Drake lifted his head and glared. "You mean that grease trap that lives in the ambulance down by the river?"

The young prince nodded. "Yeah. Except he doesn't live by the river anymore. He moved behind the elementary school .. said it had a better view."

There was dead silence for a moment as Drake grimaced at what he just heard before jerking his hips upward. "Get the fuck off me."

Nikolas stumbled to the ground with an uproarious laugh.

Drake reached into his front pocket and pulled out his cell as he rose to his feet. He was dead set on getting someone from the palace to retrieve this little menace to Drake Walker society before he found himself tied up to a cinder block at the bottom of Lake Boogaloo. The issue with his truck could wait.

Liam and Riley would already be on the plane with Bastien in tow, so calling them right now would be useless. He pressed the contact for the palace operator, hoping to be directed to the mailroom; if Neal was part of helping get Nik into this, his shady punk ass could come pick him up in the renovated ambulance that served as his home and part-time blood mobile. 

Pacing back and forth, Drake raised the phone to his ear, waiting impatiently for a ring. 

"Trish! Put me through to the mailroom." 

While he was distracted taking care of that, Nikolas was somewhat disappointed the trip was already over -- he had so many plans for his favorite uncle. With his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips, he leaned up against the truck in a huff. "This sucks!"

The sounds of leaves crunching and brush moving around nearby caught his attention. Nik's eyes widened in fear when the black furry coat of a creature with a white stripe down its middle could be seen scampering around searching for food. The boy gasped and pinched his nose as the animal's foul scent started to become thick in the air and made his eyes water. "Uncle Drake," he called out in a nasally voice, "there's a skunk."

With a scowl, Drake lowered the phone and scrunched up his own nose. He took one glance at the animal, who didn't appear to be a threat, then glanced back at the kid. "It's probably more scared of your evil ass than you are of it. Just keep your mouth shut and don't move." The call with Neal resumed.

"But, Drake ..." Nikolas whined, trying to plead for him to listen but could tell his uncle would have none of it.

Frantic to scare the smelly animal away, the young boy searched the ground for something to throw at it: a large stick, a rock, Drake's Air Bud soundtrack. Those things might scare the skunk off, but they posed a risk of it spraying before doing so. Memories of the smell of Madeleine's office when he had one shipped to her came flooding back. It took a month for the palace to lose that scent. The prank was hilarious until it affected his comfort.

 A devilish smirk took shape as an idea popped into his head. “I need my backpack.”

Nik grabbed the top of the truck bed and stepped up on the rear tire and swung one leg over, then the other. He found his backpack and quickly unzipped it, pulling out night-vision goggles and a rope, then placed them beside his feet. He proceeded to move aside a bottle of industrial-strength super glue and the glass jar holding his tarantula, Barf. Finally, at the bottom of the bag, was the taser he “borrowed” from Bastien’s desk, and he quickly took it out. Holding the electrical gun in front of his face and twisting it around menacingly, he said, “Okay, Mr. Skunk. Get ready for a shocking experience.”

“No!” Drake yelled into the phone at Neal, “You can’t borrow my binoculars. What the fuck are you gonna use those things for at a children’s museum anyway?”

“The … the …” the man scrambled for an answer, “those dinosaurs … yeah … the dinosaurs. They’re, like, really tall, ya know? I want to be able … to, uh … see their faces and stuff.”

“I call bullshit,” Drake bit back, “I won’t be an accomplice in your bone watching … dinosaur or small boy.” He resumed his pacing, wanting to get the conversation moving along. “Now listen, my sister and brother-in-law are in Texas, Lord Beaumont is on a book tour, and the guards are off duty until the royal family returns. You are going to come pick up this kid.”

“Oh! I would love to come pick him up. He’s under 10, correct?”

Drake could practically hear the creepy mirth oozing from the man's gruff voice and spat back, "I'll be with him the whole time, you oily ass, ambulance-driving …  è piccola cagna!"

"What does that mean?"

Drake knitted his brows; he didn't really know, just that Nikolas called him that from time to time, and the word just kind of stuck with him. "Just ... just get here now!"

"Okay, okay! I'm coming."

The call ended. "God, I hope he meant that literally, and I didn't just get that fucko off." He slipped the phone into his pocket and turned to Nik. "Alright, listen up, assh ..." Drake stopped dead in his tracks and stood, stunned, at the first glimpse of a taser-wielding Nikolas with the gun aimed almost directly at him, with a tiny finger wrapped around the trigger.

"Wwwhatcha got there, boy?" Drake's voice sounded calm and friendly. He even managed to fake a genuine-looking smile. Inside, however, he was close to shitting his pants.

Nikolas licked his lips and closed one eye to find the perfect aim. "I'm about to fry that skunk with extreme vengeance. One ..."

"Nikolas, no! Give me the taser." Drake cautiously approached him with his hand held out.

"Two," the small but menacing voice continued the count.

"Nik, don't do it! Give it to me now!"

"Three.”

"Noooo!"

The piercing sound of Drake's shout startled the skunk, and it scurried out from the thick brush.

Nik jumped up with the taser. "Hey! Get back here, asshole." He aimed at the fleeing creature and pressed the trigger.

___________

The instant Drake's mocha-colored eyes fluttered open, an acrid mixture of what smelled like ass, sweat, rotten eggs, and his mother's hairy feet had bubbled up inside his nostrils. The aroma was slightly overshadowed by the 1200-volt prongs that had pierced just below the protruding vein in his neck, causing him to seize up and then drop like a rag doll to the dirt, and muck that littered the ground.

Close by, he could make out the discernible sound of footsteps crunching through foliage and bark and sloshing over wet earth.

Drake's cheek rested against the cold, soggy ground, even as the silhouette of the young prince crouched next to him with his little head tilted sideways and blinking owlishly. He saw the child's lips moving but blocked out the little shit until the feeling of electrocution and muscle spasms had waned.

Drake looked at the small face next to him that resembled his best friend at that age. Liam is a good man, Drake thought; he was a considerate child, too. We had fun together. We always had each other's backs and would do anything to protect the other, no matter the consequences.  Liam wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s just the best all around.  So …  how in the actual ass fuck did he produce the spawn of Satan? 

Is there any chance he’s ... Neal’s kid? 

Maybe Riley ... No, fuck, no. She wouldn’t.

The sky transformed from a brilliant blue to one streaked with gold and orange hues before Drake shook himself of the aftershocks that sparked through his body. 

The metal prongs left behind two bright red spots, resembling a large spider bite and stinging like hell when he pulled them out.  A thick layer of mud had dried and clung to his back, while a fresh layer adhered to his front. The numbness in his limbs had dissipated somewhat, but the pins-and-needles feeling remained. He was grateful the back spray from the skunk missed him, but the remnants it left on the nearby trees were stifling.

At this point, the only thing Drake wanted was a hot shower, a clean change of clothes, and to get stupidly drunk to the point he would pass out in bed and sleep for days. He scanned the perimeter and could make out the crystal-blue lake through a small clearing in the trees about 100 yards away.

Removing his filthy shirt and tossing it in the back of the truck, he eyed Nikolas, who was surprisingly quiet and subdued. The child was sitting on the lowered tailgate, swinging his legs, and trying to force his tarantula to eat a dead cricket. Drake rolled his eyes but was relieved the kid was staying out of his hair for now. He just needed to take a quick dip in the water, change his clothes, and hurry back in time for their ride home. Nik would be fine by himself for 10 minutes.

Drake let out a sharp tongue whistle that caught Nikolas' attention. "Listen up, kid. I'm going down to the lake real quick to clean up and change into some clean clothes." He opened the driver's side door and reached across the seat to toss his cell phone and wallet in the glove box while he continued, "You and your spider get in here and lock the door until I come back."

Nik dropped Barf in the jar and slapped the holed lid on it. "It's not a spider, Drake. It's a tarantula. A tarantula," he corrected with emphasis as he slid down from the tailgate.

"I don't care if it's your grandma's bladder control protection, get your ass in the truck, and don't move until I get back."

Stepping up in front of Drake, Nikolas sneered at an annoyed Drake towering above him. "I'm telling her you said that. And why can't I go with you? I wanna go to the lake, too," he whined.

Drake nearly doubled over in fake laughter. "There ain't no damn way I'm taking you. For one, you've ruined my entire trip. The one good thing I had in my life to look forward to, and you ruined it! And two, I don't know what the rules are about grownups, and nakedness, and with kids around, and all that shit. So the answer is no." 

Drake could tell by the beady little eyes glaring back at him that Nikolas would not give up on this. He let out a heavy sigh. "Look. Do what I tell you right now, and when I come back, I'll build a campfire, and we can make up some s’mores. How's that sound?"

“Okay.”

“Really?” Drake shook his head in astonishment that he actually won that argument. Without another word, he watched as His Royal Highness happily climbed into the cab of the truck and gave a thumbs up.

Did that taser kill me? I’m dead, right? He did it. Do you smell that, Cordonia? No, not that fucking rank ass skunk. It’s the smell of victory! Drake Walker is a god! I have the power back.

Grabbing his duffle bag from the back, Drake hurriedly made his way toward the lake. He felt a little on edge, leaving Nik by himself for even just ten minutes, maybe even somewhat guilty. But he was caked in mud from head to toe, and the grime was starting to seep and burrow around certain parts of his anatomy. Nothing was worse than having monkey ass.

Within minutes, Nikolas sat on his haunches and looked out the back glass. He hadn’t wanted to show it, but he did feel a little bad for shooting Drake to the point it drew blood. Also for causing him to crash his truck. And even though it was funny as hell to watch, the second slip in the mud was kind of brutal. Perhaps a little remorse was starting to set in as the words of his Uncle Drake telling him that he ruined the one thing he was looking forward to repeated in his head. Tomorrow he would return to normal, but Nik was determined to do something nice for a change for the rest of the evening.

With the quick snap of his little fingers, an idea formed, and it would be the perfect thing to make Drake feel better. Nik unlocked the door, grabbed his spider, and jumped out of the truck. He headed to the back and rummaged through the bags of camping items laid in piles until he found what he was looking for: a lighter and lighter fluid.

“I’ll make the bestest s'mores ever for Uncle Drake. That’ll make him happy.”

Nikolas had never built a campfire before, but he’d seen it done in a movie once, and that was good enough in his mind to practically make him an expert.

Feeling clean and refreshed, Drake dried off from his dip in the lake and put fresh clothes on. Making his way back to the site, he caught a glimpse of thick, black smoke protruding above the trees and the smell of burning rubber that traveled with the approaching evening breeze.

“Nikolas,” he muttered as his heart crashed into his stomach. He raced back as fast as he could, fearing the absolute worst thing had happened to the Prince of Cordonia. “I knew I shouldn’t have left him alone. Liam and Riley are going to kill me, and I would deserve it. I just hope he’s not …” he trailed off when the site came into full view. It was worse than he imagined.

His eyes searched frantically until relief washed over him when he caught his first glimpse of Nikolas sitting under a tree, eating, and seemingly unconcerned by the inferno that had lit up the dusky sky.

Drake rushed over to him and lifted him into his arms and held onto him tightly.  “Are you okay, buddy?”  

Nikolas chuckled, “I’m fine, Uncle Drake.”

He lowered him back on the ground and started patting him down, looking for burns or injuries. 

Drake let out a sigh of relief. “How? How did this …” he turned to look at the fire, then raised his voice. “Wait! You caught my goddamn truck on fire?”

Nik followed his uncle's gaped-mouth stare to the truck engulfed in flames, then screwed up his face. "Yeah ... about that. I think I used too much of that lighter fluid stuff building a campfire. But I made you something." He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a s'more, licked the melted chocolate off the side, then proudly held it up to Drake. "The marshmallow is exactly the way you like it, too: completely charred."

Drake dropped his head into his palms and repeated a slew of curse words and sounds that were not even human. As badly as he wanted to destroy everything around him at that moment, to release a fit of anger the likes of which no one had ever seen in him before, it appeared Nikolas had beat him to it: There was nothing left around there to destroy. 

He dropped his arms to his sides in defeat and looked to the heavens before surmising, “This is my punishment, isn’t it? I stole that taser from the guard as a kid and let Liam take the blame for it. I insisted Liam come with me in that boat during a storm, and he nearly drowned when it overturned. He got lost in the woods on my time. I pushed him too hard once during maze tag. I got stuck in that laundry chute all night, and Constantine took hide-and-seek away from him. This …” he motioned to Nikolas, who was smiling back at him with a big cheesy grin, “this is how he got me back for all of it. Well, you win, Liam! You win!  I hope you are having one hell of a time in Paris, schmoozing and laughing your ass off, because I have nothing left in this world but this …  hairy, lint-filled s’more with your son’s saliva all over it …  and it’s not even toasted right!”

“I didn’t make it right?” Nikolas asked thoughtfully. “Hang on. I can make you another one.” He bent down, pulled out a marshmallow from the bag and rammed a mud-covered stick entirely through its center. Drake watched as Nik skipped over and held it next to the flames shooting out the window of his truck.

For several seconds, Drake contemplated whether he should just leave the child there and let nature take its course. Glaring back to the star-filled sky, he groaned, “You owe me big for this.”

Tugging Nik by his jacket hood to pull him away from the hot blaze, he startled the boy who then whipped around with the burning marshmallow and accidentally got it stuck to Drake’s shirt. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

Ten minutes passed, and the two were on the dirt road heading back to the highway’s main stretch. After patting out the fire on his shirt, Drake planned to call the fire department to report the inferno taking place in the woods. He laughed wryly when he realized the phone was still in the glove box of his burning vehicle. And it appeared Neal’s skank ass wasn’t coming after all, so the pair would have to flag down someone and hope they actually stopped. Thankfully, Nikolas had his backpack on, and Drake used the night vision goggles to direct his way along the darkened path.

Hand in hand and approaching the main thoroughfare, Nik’s legs were starting to tire, and his droopy eyes looked up. “Uncle Drake, will you carry me?”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Pleeeeeeease,” Nikolas begged in a high-pitched squeal that grated Drake’s teeth.

Drake stopped with a huff and crouched down. “Get the fuck on my back,” he commanded, “you’ve burned and shot the front part of me, so your ass is gonna have to hold onto the back. And I swear to God, Nik, if you so much as drool on me, you can sleep in the woods with the wolves and bears and poodles. Understood?”

With a tired nod, Nik wrapped his little arms around Drake’s neck and held on. As they proceeded ahead, the prince asked, “Would you tell me a bedtime story?”

Drake grunted, “You wanna bedtime story? I’ll tell you a bedtime story. It’s an ol’ Bianca Walker original that she used to tell me every night called ‘Go the fuck to sleep!’ The end.”

Nikolas sleepily chuckled. “I already have that book, Uncle Drake. My dad’s secretary, Charlotte, gave it to me and told me to put it in my room. She said if my mom or dad found it, just to tell them you gave it to me.”

“Of course she did,” Drake scoffed, thinking about the other person who found pure delight in annoying him.

Through the night-vision goggles, the headlights of a random car could be seen driving by, and Drake let out a relieved breath, knowing they were so close.

The night couldn’t end that easily, though. A sudden sense of unease enveloped Drake, telling him that everything was not as it seemed. His steps quickened, and his heart pounded away in his chest.

Feeling like he was being followed, he turned on his heels, then widened his eyes. 

A large brown bear let out a roar that echoed past them.

Drake shrugged his shoulders and muttered, “Yep. That’s about right.”

The survival training he’d learned from his Campers Anonymous group about bear encounters kicked in, and he completely stilled his body. That was until he heard, “BEEEEAAAR!” screamed over his shoulder and felt Nik’s body drop to the ground.

“Don’t move, Nikolas,” Drake ordered through a whisper.

It was too late; he was gone and headed toward the road.

Drake whirled around to see the bear on its hind legs, drumming its chest and licking its lips. “Shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Wait for me, Nik!” He took off running.

--------- 

Alyssa was headed back to Cordonia earlier in the night than she expected. With her hands firmly gripped on the steering wheel, she complained to her friend through the car's Bluetooth, “The guy showed up one hour late to our meeting spot, then drove through a McDonalds, asked if I wanted anything, proceeded to park behind a church and tell me he has condoms before the cops picked him up on a warrant! Worst. Date. Ever.”

Driving around a bend in the road, Alyssa slammed on the brakes when her headlights reflected off a small child darting into the road. As her tires screeched, she let out a deafening scream when a man came out of nowhere, followed immediately by a bear. The frantic man shoved the kid out of the way.

Though  the brake pedal was pressed to the floor, the car collided with Drake, and his body flew onto the hood before falling feebly to the road.

The bear sniffed at Drake and batted him around a couple of times before taking off into the woods.

When Alyssa was sure it was safe to do so, she and a crying Nik both crouched around a moaning Drake.

_________

The following morning, Drake's eyes fluttered open. His vision was a little fuzzy, but he could make out a doctor hovering over him and a worried Liam standing with Nikolas at the foot of his bed. He tried to speak, wanting to know what happened, but was unable to open his mouth.

"Don't try to speak, Mr. Walker. Your jaw was wired shut to protect the small fracture you suffered from the car accident. You also broke both legs and sprained your neck. You have a long recovery ahead of you, but shouldn't need to spend any more time in the hospital. You’re a very lucky man. Now if you’ll excuse me, I will get the discharge papers and check to see if the ambulance transporting you to the palace has arrived. His Majesty has offered to allow you to recover in his home." 

Drake took one look at a gleeful, bouncing Nikolas and shook his head as best as he could with a neck brace on and emphatically mumbled his indiscernible objections.

Liam chuckled, "Quit being so modest, Drake. I assure you it’s no trouble at all. Besides, it's the least I could do after you saved my son's life. And Nik here even offered to let you stay in his room to keep you company."

Nik nodded with a grin. “Yep. For the next eight to 12 weeks, it's just me and my Uncle Drake hanging out all day and night.”

Drake tried to escape from his bed but couldn’t move without use of his legs.

Liam walked around to the side of the bed and put his hand on Drake’s shoulder. “Look at you trying to protest. You never were one to accept charity. I told you, I’m more than happy to help. You deserve this and more.”

A knock at the door diverted their attention and a head popped in. “I’m here to transport Mr. Walker back to the palace, Your Majesty.”

“Perfect! And on such short notice too. So glad my secretary could arrange this ride,” Liam exclaimed. He glanced down at his injured friend in the bed and smiled. “You ready to go home, my friend?”

No! No! That’s fucking, Neal. He doesn’t even have a real ambulance. I’m not going. Somebody, anybody, heeeelp!

[darth-el]

Roommate Wanted

Pairing: Nancy x Jonathan x Reader Warnings: The only warning is gambling.  A/N: This was a request and I loved writing it so much. This was a bit longer than I anticipated and it turns out I’m in a very Christmassy mood. I hope you enjoy reading it as much I enjoyed writing it and as always feedback is always welcome. 

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Masterlist

“ROOMMATE WANTED” was a line that you read a lot over the past few weeks as you searched for a new apartment as your current lease was coming to an end. Every time an advert seemed like it had a lot of potential there was always a catch when you met the person or people. You were sitting in a coffee shop with your friend Veronica as she trawled through the adverts for you as you couldn’t cope with it any more. “You’re telling me that the person kept snakes and bugs?” She asked about your last viewing as she circled the adverts in red pen that you might like.

“Yep, wouldn’t have minded so much if a tarantula hadn’t escaped while I was there.” You shuddered at the memory while sipping your coffee. The newspaper was dropped down in front of you covered in red pen. You scanned the adverts crossing out some of them as Veronica peered over the table to see what ones you were crossing out.

“I thought you would have liked that one.” She stated, pouting slightly as you crossed one that said 'freedom loving couple looking for carefree roommate in their 20s'.

“Nope, middle aged couple who are exhibitionists,” You sighed scribbling out another advert and Veronica narrowed her eyes at you. “Using it as a front to get people to join a sex cult.” You exhaled very sharply at the thought.

“What about this one?” Veronica tapped repeatedly at a new advert making the paper rustle in your hand.

“ROOM FOR RENT $340/month” the price was better than what you usually stumbled across. Most people rounded it up to a round $400 or were willing to let rent slide and ‘make other arrangements’. Alarm bells started ringing the moment you read the words 'creative couple'

“See, you might get on with them!” Veronica exclaimed so loudly that the coffee shop went quiet and she immediately sank in her seat apologising.

“Creative couple means they will be doing creepy but creative things to you in your sleep!” You let your head drop back as you stared at the ceiling.

“They might not be like that,” Veronica snapped her fingers at you so she had your full attention.

“Have you ever searched for an apartment?” You raised an eyebrow at her knowing the answer was ‘no’ as her parents bought her a one bedroom for her 18th.

“You know I haven’t,” She sighed, almost sounding like she resented not having the experience. “Why don’t I come with you to meet this creative, creepy couple?” You reluctantly agreed knowing she wasn’t going to be much help.

“Try saying that five times faster.” You smiled from behind your mug and Veronica was muttering “creative, creepy couple” to herself getting faster each time.

You knocked on the apartment door, you were surprised by how decent the building was for the price of rent they were asking for and it was near everything you needed. The only downside was the travelling for work, but that didn't matter because if it was decent it would be worth the sacrifice. Veronica had a huge smile on her face as she was bouncing on her toes where she was excited for you, you did not reflect her excitement as you were expecting the worst possible outcome.

“How much do you want to bet they're hoarders?” You stared at the door not looking at Veronica as her excitement was making you anxious.

“You're never going to find a place with that attitude.” Veronica's excitement diminished and sounded like she was scolding a child.

“It's that attitude that has stopped me from joining a sex cult.” You retorted as the door opened and you were greeted by a young woman who was not what you were expecting as she had a comforting aura.

“Are you Y/N?” She asked sounding a bit worried about the conversation she had just entered.

“Yes I am, I take it your Nancy,” You smiled at her, instantly feeling at ease. She nodded and let you in with Veronica following behind. “Sorry I hope you don't mind I bought my friend with me.”

“Not at all!” Nancy said as she walked into a room and pulled a man out who looked as nervous as you felt. “This is my boyfriend Jonathan.” She wrapped her arm around him which made him instantly relax.

“We've never done anything like this before.” He admitted rubbing the back of neck smiling as he sat down on the couch.

“Well Y/N here has, a lot.” Veronica cut in before you could say anything, you shot her a look to tell her to be quiet which she didn't notice and started rambling about your less successful viewings.

“I really don't think they want to hear about all that.” You had an edge to your voice, she looked at you like you had mortally offended her by cutting her off.

“Anyway, moving all that aside,” You sighed hoping that would be the last of Veronica talking. “Would it be possible to see the apartment a little bit more?” You examined your surroundings, it was well lived in but clean which was a good sign.

“Of course!” Nancy got up and you followed her into the kitchen which was small but had everything you needed. “The stove had to be replaced a few months ago so that is pretty much brand new, you also have to wait a few seconds for the water as it takes a little while to start running.” She explained and showed you. You decided to count how long it would take for the water to start running. Other than the water taking about ten seconds to start running everything seemed fine in the kitchen. Nancy led you back into the living room where Veronica was babbling to Jonathan about the time she went grocery shopping and ended up in 'The Ultimate Revenge For Disco' video. That sounded a lot more exciting than it actually was, she decided to go see Venom that night, they happened to be filming and she was in the crowd. You could see Jonathan was ready to get away from her.

“Jonathan, why don't we show Y/N the bathroom.” Nancy could see the disinterest in Jonathan's face and decided he needed rescuing. Jonathan jumped up and apologised to Veronica for cutting her overly exaggerated story short and followed you in the bathroom with Veronica trailing behind him.

“I hope you don't mind it just being a shower,” Jonathan smiled at you thankful he didn't have to listen to Veronica any more.

“Not at all, how is the plumbing?” You smiled back up at him and Veronica could see the sparks flying off you and went to make a comment about it and for the first time in her life stopped herself as she remembered his girlfriend was standing right there.

“Again, you have to wait a few seconds for the water to actually start running.” Nancy explained as she tapped the frosted glass shower door which had a mermaid etched onto it with her hand, looking at Jonathan to see if he had anything to add.

“It's pretty powerful once it gets going.” Jonathan clarified as he moved past you and Veronica who were crammed in the doorway of the tiny pale pink bathroom.

“The room you're letting out?” You followed Jonathan out the bathroom who led you to the room. The room was an average size, enough room to fit a double bed and a small closet. There was plenty of light flowing into the room which was the polar opposite of your last place. The walls were painted an off white colour, and it had floorboards instead of carpeting which was unusual as shag carpeting all the rage.

Months passed and you were feeling more and more comfortable in your new dwellings, except there were one or two minor problems. You realised you had a crush on both of your housemates which started to make things incredibly awkward for you as you felt like you couldn't be around them meaning you were starting to actively avoid them which would have been a lot easier if your work schedule wasn't so erratic, when one or both of them were in you would lock yourself in your room under the guise of you needed to work; while that wasn't a lie it most definitely wasn't the whole truth.

“Can I come in?” You heard Nancy's voice as she knocked on the door.

“Sure,” You called from your bed, hands clutching at your hair while you stared at the papers scattered around you as you couldn't make head or tail of what your boss wanted from you.

“What are you doing tonight?” Nancy sat on your bed picking up a piece of paper which had your boss' indiscernible scrawl on it which would need top cryptologists to decipher.

“You tell me,” You tried to sound like your confident self, but you could feel the butterflies in your stomach swirling around.

“Well, there's a midnight showing of The Exorcist happening tonight for Halloween and thought it'd be a perfect excuse to drag you away from your work, as I know how much you love that film,” Nancy took your hand and you could feel the butterflies fly up into your chest and into your throat making you gulp loudly.

“I would love that,” You nodded trying to smile through the nerves.

“It'll just be me and you as Jonathan spends Halloween with his brother and mom,” Nancy smiled at you like she could sense something was wrong with you. “Are you okay?” She was so gentle with you and everyone she met, the patience she constantly displayed was saintlike especially when it came to Veronica's surprise visits.

“I'm just stressed with work, I have no idea what I'm meant to doing.” You waved the yellow folder that was in your hand trying to make your half truth sound like the whole truth.

“That handwriting is stressing me out,” Nancy tried to lighten the mood which sort of worked, but not fully. “I'll let you get back to work, but I want to be at the theatre around 11:30.” She smiled at you as she closed the door behind her leaving alone in your room. You quickly pulled the pillow to your face and buried yourself in it to muffle your screams, at this point you didn't know what you were screaming about; work or your feelings.

The line for the theatre was huge, it was spilling out onto the street. 'The Exorcist, 1973' was in lights and lit up the street. It was getting cold out and you made the grave mistake or underdressing as you figured you would be inside for the majority of the time and you wanted to be comfortable. Nancy had taken you to her favourite deli beforehand so you were trying to remember how warm you were thirty minutes beforehand. Nancy was wearing a coat that was far too big and it engulfed her, you suddenly felt her wrap her coat which she was still wearing around you. “I can't have you freeze to death before the film.” She laughed as you were still shivering against her.

“After the film is fine though?” She looked angelic under the lights and her eyes captured the light perfectly which made them glisten.

“Oh yeah, after the film I'm leaving you to freeze on the sidewalk.” She pulled you in closer, she looked like she was admiring you which made you blush slightly making her giggle.

After the film you stood outside the theatre trying to hail a cab. It had started raining lightly and you hoped the inevitable downpour would hold off until you got home, getting a cab seemed to be harder than usual. You looked at Nancy who had also given up trying to get one, you both looked at each other and shrugged and walked to a 24 hour diner that you thought was nearby which you started to frequent in the past couple of months when you couldn't sleep. It was a longer walk than you anticipated by which point the rain was heavier making you feel like a drowned rat, you both sought shelter under a shop front listening to the rain hit the awning. This was far from how you envisioned the night. Nancy removed a wet strand of hair that was stuck to your face and tucked it behind your ear, you looked at her curiously. “I may have had an ulterior motive asking you out tonight,” Nancy bit her lip, not breaking eye contact with you as you cocked your head in confusion.

“What do you me-” You were cut off by Nancy pulling you in for a kiss which startled you but you quickly let yourself enjoy the moment. You felt Nancy's arms wrap around your neck, you weren't sure how long you had been like that, when some drunk man who turned out to be dressed like Indiana Jones started making jokes to the both you from across the street. In retaliation you flipped him off not breaking the kiss and he carried on with his night making you both pull away laughing.

“Jonathan feels the same way.” You were slightly taken aback by what you were hearing. This was definitely not the night you envisioned, it was better.

Christmas was coming, which was your favourite time of year meaning you were going to unleash Christmas bomb on the apartment. You always went overboard for Christmas much to the horror of your previous housemates, but you had a feeling this year was different. Both Jonathan and Nancy were at work meaning you could surprise them when they got home. Each year you had a theme; last year's theme resembled something that could have belonged to the Snow Queen, you could have thought that one through a bit more as it took weeks to get rid of the fake snow. The year before was Santa's Grotto, and this year's was something more rustic. This included anything you could buy from florists that fit the theme, fairy lights hanging everywhere, candles everywhere (which were a huge fire hazard but you really didn't care), and so much glitter. You also bought a lot of Christmas candy and bowls which you randomly placed around the apartment. All you needed was the Christmas tree which you were all going to pick out at the weekend. You were making the final touches to the apartment when you heard the key go in the lock and Jonathan came in with a bag of groceries.

“Woah,” He stopped in the doorway, you were hoping he was admiring your handiwork. “It looks like...” You could tell he had no idea how to finish that sentence.

“Santa's more stylish twin threw up?” You joked taking the bag from him and giving him a kiss on the cheek and putting the bag on the kitchen counter.

“That is exactly what it looks like.” He laughed taking a candy cane from the bowl that was in the kitchen and started eating it while you unpacked the groceries.

“Do you think it's a bit much?” You suddenly had worry wash over you and he came up behind you and wrapped his arms your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder swaying slightly. You could hear him sucking on the candy cane.

“Not at all, and Nancy is going to love it as well.” He kissed your neck gently before helping you unpack.

“Holy crap!” You heard Nancy shout as she walked through the door. “It looks like a glitter bomb went off in a forest,” Nancy leaned against the door frame watching you and Jonathan smiling.

“I should probably put some mistletoe above the doors.” You mused giving Nancy a kiss after you unpacked the final bits.

“I think you should,” She agreed giving Jonathan a kiss. “I was thinking maybe we could go out tonight, as there's new a bar that opened up,” She wrapped her arm around Jonathan's giving you a big smile.

“Is that the jazz one?” Jonathan sounded unsure by this proposal as he would have been happier staying in watching It's A Wonderful Life.

“Yes it is, I have to write about it so I thought we could see what it's like.” Nancy was looking up at Jonathan hoping he would agree.

“It'll be nice to dress up.” You said as you walked out the door to change out of your glittery pyjamas that you had been in all day.

The bar was in a smokey basement which is exactly what you were expecting with a couple of musicians playing, it was brimming with interesting people all dressed up as well. You instantly fell in love with it. Nancy led you and Jonathan to the bar and ordered herself a Martini which made you and Jonathan look at her as she never had a Martini since you had both known her.

“Manhattan.” You told the bartender. Jonathan was pondering what he was going to have as he didn't know what he liked from the menu.

“Two Manhattans.” His mouth went into a lopsided smile as he knew this was going to be a big mistake as soon as he saw whiskey being poured into the cocktail shaker, but he trusted your choice.

“Cheers,” Nancy smiled holding up her Martini, you and Jonathan both followed suit. Nancy took a sip from her Martini and squeezed her eyes shut as she smacked her lips together trying to figure out if she liked it or not.

“Why does James Bond drink these?” She laughed loudly putting the drink down onto the bar. You looked at Jonathan to see his reaction to the Manhattan, he looked genuinely surprised about the fact that he liked it.

“Bit strong,” He chuckled. You pointed to Nancy's drink as if to say “can I try?” and Nancy pushed it over to you, you handed her your drink which she tried a bit of and enjoyed that a lot more.

“You have that one,” You smiled as you drank what was now your Martini.

“Thank you.” She smiled as Jonathan scouted out a place to sit and led you both over to a booth that had just become free. The booth's seat was red leather and a candle lit it up which fitted with atmosphere of the bar. You noticed on the wall opposite “Roaring 20's New Year's Extravaganza”.

“We should go to that!” You exclaimed as you loved anything like that and you could break out your vintage style dance moves. “You'd look hot as 1920's gangster,” You smiled up at Jonathan “Me and Nancy can be your Molls.” Jonathan was instantly convinced by this as was Nancy, you were now really looking forward to spending New Year with the two people you loved for the first time in a long time.

The days leading up to New Year's was filled with finishing your costumes and gorging on so much food. You and Nancy were laying on the sofa watching Miracle on 34th Street eating some of the leftovers from Christmas which was a lot. You decided to spend Christmas here instead of going home, you invited over a few friends to celebrate as they felt the same, meaning you bought too much food. Instead of it going to waste you decided to live off leftovers for the foreseeable future.

“This is really good,” Nancy said as she took a bite out of the turkey sandwich you made her as you took a bite out of your roast potato sandwich.

“Thank you.” You swallowed as Jonathan came in from work covered in snow, you got up and peered out the window. The snow was heavy but didn't look like it was going to lay much to your disappointment.

“Did you think this was dandruff?” Jonathan joked as he took his coat off and sitting next to Nancy, stealing a bite from her sandwich.

“Get your own!” She pulled it away smiling making Jonathan pout slightly.

“I don't think you want me to answer that.” You winked sitting next to Jonathan handing him half your sandwich.

“At least someone loves me.” Jonathan smiled at Nancy as he took a bite out of the sandwich you gave him. You sat down next to Jonathan looking at your New Year's dressing hanging up on your door, you looked at both of them. You jumped up and held out your hands, they both looked at you confused.

“I want to teach you the Charleston,” You sighed pulling them up, not giving them time to protest.

“You know the Charleston?” Nancy sounded surprised at this.

“I know all the dances,” You beamed at her. “My grandmother was a showgirl in the 1920's and used to teach me whenever I saw her.” You had fond memories of seeing your grandmother almost every week and from the moment you could walk she was teaching you the dances she used to perform. She was also incredibly outrageous where she never conformed to societal pressure of what a woman must be and everyone who knew her said you got that from her.

“Is this the same grandmother that had an affair with Bugsy Siegel?” Jonathan asked raising his eyebrow at you.

“Yep, also got arrested due to bootlegging,” Nancy looked at you in shock because she knew none of this. “The 1920's sounded great.” You clapped your hands and began teaching them the steps after moving the furniture out the way. It quickly became evident that Nancy had two left feet, but Jonathan got it very quickly. You found an old record which used to belong to your grandmother and what you used to dance to when you were a child and put it on. Jonathan was helping Nancy which resulted in Nancy accidentally kicking a him a couple of times which is when you took over and got kicked several times yourself.

“I was going to say about teaching you swing dancing,” You stepped away from Nancy who's limbs were flaying everywhere. “I don't think my shins can take it though.” She went to push away but you grabbed her wrist giving her a kiss making her smile.

“Maybe I can try swing.” Jonathan said confidently as it turned out he was a natural at dancing. You grabbed Jonathan's hand and taught him the steps slowly at first, with Nancy watching who was slowly going through her steps. By the time you were tired and ready to go bed you weren't sure how long you had been dancing for, but you knew it was incredibly late and you had an early start in the morning.

“You don't mind if I go to bed?” You yawned and they both shook their heads as Jonathan was still teaching Nancy. “Good night.” You smiled at them as you gave them a kiss and climbed into bed feeling both lucky and incredibly sore.

The bar was filled and it felt like you had gone into a time warp, the band were in full swing and people dancing. You all made your way to the bar, Nancy and Jonathan ordered Boulevadiers after you recommended it as they couldn't decide and you ordered a peach and lime Daiquiri. Nancy was was wearing a black knee length dress which was beaded and the gold detail was the embodiment of art deco. You had styled her hair using Fay Wray as inspiration. You were wearing a long black silk slip dress with a shawl that belonged to your grandmother with a black feathered turban which had a pearl pin on it to keep it in place. You had found Jonathan a pin strip suit in a thrift store which fit him perfectly. Nancy noticed there was a roulette table on the other side of the room and got very excited and pulling you both over there. You were given '$20' worth of free chips each and if you won over a certain amount it would get you couple of free drinks for the night.

“Place your bets.” The croupier announced, you looked at the table to get a feeling of the numbers. Nancy had placed $5 on 31 because it was the date of your first kiss, Jonathan was playing it safe and put $3 on red. You put $7 on 11, the croupier spun the wheel announcing no more bets were to be placed and you watched the ball roll round, you were tense.

“24 black.” You all groaned as you lost your money, you downed your cocktail in one go. You were determined to get a free drink or two. This was proving harder than you anticipated, eventually you had all run of chips but you were watching a guy and his girlfriend argue whether or not to put it all in on 17. The guy eventually ignored his girlfriend and put $40 worth of chips on 17, you all watched tensely as the wheel slowed down and the ball landed on 17. You were all gobsmacked and the guy was gloating to his girlfriend. “I'm never doubting you again.” Her jaw looked like it would have fallen through the floor if possible. Jonathan was eager to dance and show off his moves, which meant the alcohol was really having an effect on him. You couldn't get over how at ease he was dancing with only a couple of intense lessons. Nancy however still had her two left feet as you tried to dance with her. The music stopped and the band announced there was only a minute left of the year and started counting down.

“3, 2, 1” Everyone shouted, the moment Happy New Year was said silver and gold confetti had been released from the ceiling and floated down amongst everyone who were sharing New Year kisses. You were watching the confetti fall and it reflecting the dim lights when Jonathan pulled you in for a passionate kiss making you smile as you ran your fingers through his hair. You both pulled away, you could see a combination of yours and Nancy's lipstick on him which made you laugh.

“What about my kiss?” Nancy giggled as you pulled her in for an equally passionate kiss, with both of them it felt like you were the only people in the world.

“Happy New Year.” You smiled at both of them feeling like the luckiest person in the world as the music started up again and you continued dancing the night away.

[thelightningbottler]

Human Resources

Narrator:

He drank his coffee black - like his heart.

He paced around his office.

He grabbed his tape recorder

And began his great hypothesis.

Doc:

I always think about me

And I hope that they do to

Taking my views into account before they choose

The option that most fucks me over

But do they ever dig deep?

Deeper into what I mean?

What I say?

What I mean to say?

What I say I mean?

Am I mean?

Or just median?

The centre of the whole

Or just a hole in a sheet of paper?

SFX: *crumpled paper*

Doc: So lets start with a subject

A test,

An option to begin our experiments

Does anyone feel the way I feel?

Love the way I love?

Hate the way I hate?

Am I too harsh? Or not harsh enough?

Am I too easy to be breezy?

Difficulties arise,

This shit is difficult,

Assistant:

Perhaps, sir, if I may offer a suggestion

lets build a boy

And make him speak

And then we’ll dissect

His wonderful brain

Because how can you fix anything

while inside the burning house?

Doc:Build a boy you say?

Ass: Yes sir.

Doc:

What a novel idea

No moment to waste,

let's cut to the point

build that boy

ehh, you get the picture

Narrator: Test 1: begin

Doc:

First we must build the boy.

Give him scrapes on his knees

Give him trees to climb

Give him beans to eat

And cans to kick.

And bees to bother

And hearts to break

Or ache,

Assistant:

Give him limbs that grow out exponentially

Until he is gruff and monosyllabic

Until he stays in his room all day

Until he emerges, fully formed.

And if we don’t like this boy, we can throw him away.

Assistant:And start again from scratch.

Doc: Throw him away?

Ass: None of him will go to waste

Doc: Very well, let's try this out.

Doc: So now we have the boy! Let him speak his truth!

Boy 1: ‘Alright?’

Doc: ‘Yeah Fine’

Boy 1: ‘Yeah that’s good. Do you play leag ue? Or Dota?’

Doc: ‘No’

Boy 1 : ‘Oh’

Assistant: Oh shit, it’s a gamer. Well we tried and we can try again,

but before we pulp this boy,

We’ll see if we can get some sense out of him.

ASS: ‘Do you feel happy’

Boy 1: What do you mean?

Doc: ‘Do you feel sad?’

Boy 1: ‘What does it mean to feel happy’

Ass: ‘Good vibes, y’know? No bad vibes’

Boy 1: Right.’

Doc: ‘It’s to feel good, or bad, or appropriately sad or any combination of the above’

Boy 1: ‘Oh I see’

Ass: “Like… like when you shoot the winning goal into the back of the net on a warm summer’s day’

Boy 1: ‘Oh yeah, like that look of anguish on the goalie’s face.’

Doc: ‘Oh, well … well that’s not… um… that’s more like schadenfreude.’

Boy 1: ‘What’s that?’

Doc: ‘That’s when you take pleasure in the misfortune of others’

Boy 1: ‘Is that not allowed?’

Doc: ‘No there’s nothing .. banning it, it’s just… I dunno… in poor taste?’

Doc: ‘What’s taste got to do with feeling?’

Ass: Pulp this one, it’s getting revealing.

Narrator:

Into the blender goes the body

And into the jar goes the brain

Never to feel another thing

never to think a thing again.

Doc:

Welp that boy was a wash. lets’ build another

A stranger one, with stranger tastes

With ideas that are beyond his station

And feelings he don’t understand.

Boy 2: ‘Teach me,’

Narrator: he said

Boy 2: ‘how to care’

Ass:

Well fuck this one’s already a duff.

I looked inside his ear drums,

And between the ears was nowt but fluff.

Doc: Do you feel happy?

Boy 2: ‘What’s that?

Doc: ‘Or is it just quite enough’

Boy 2: ‘I feel a sense of quiet contentment. - I do not really want for stuff’

Doc:

These boys are throwing up the wrong questions

The act of acting is too much

He has a certain disarming charm.

A boyish glimmer of clovers luck.

Ass: Do we wanna pulp this boy? Or do we have more issues for him’

Doc: ‘I feel like we should pulp him, but there’s one more question we should ask.’

Narrator: The boy looked on, or through them, in ambient agitation.

Doc: ‘What would make you sad, boy’

Boy 2: ‘Well death, those I love dying around me? My own personal mortality,’

Doc: ‘Fuck this one’s canny

Ass: ‘Got another heavy one, put him in the juicer.’

Doc:

Why can’t they look past the futility? We’re looking for progress? We can’t have them answer existentially. If they could do me a favour to not think too much… but enough to answer my questions soundly.

Narrator:

BZz goes the pulper

Slurp goes the brain

Into another jar

To think on death forever, again.

Ass: Third boy - This one’s a girl

Doc:

Off to a good start already

Maybe they’ll have a better understanding, or at least a fresh perspective

Narrot:

With pigtails

And attitude

And a concerning look that could eat through glass

Doc: ‘Did you take her past the brain vats?’

Ass: ‘Maybe’

Doc: ‘Should we just liquify before we even try’

Ass: ‘Nah nah, I got good feelings about this one’

Doc: Describe happiness to us.

Girl: It’s warm. It bubbles. It’s giddy and freeing

Ass: Describe sadness to us.

Girl: It’s cold, and stone like. It’s aching and grieving.

Doc: Describe fear to us.

Girl: It’s prickly, and spiked, like a hole in your stomach

Ass: And hatred

Girl: It’s boiling, and messy, and fraught and endures.

Doc: And describe love.

Girl: No.

Doc: What do you mean no?

Girl: Absolutely not. You do not deserve it, love in any form, even in the hypothetical, even in the abstract.

…

Ass: Pulp her.

Pulper: Well no one asks me my opinion, obviously

Who gives two shits about the people pulper?

‘What does it matter what you think?

You pulp People for a living’

And yes it’s true I am a person pulper

And the wage is good and the benefits numerous

That’s only because it takes a special kind of person to pulp people.

You gotta have brawn,

And guts,

And skill

And a tough stomach

And a hard shell

And you can’t take your work home with you.

You gotta incinerate your people pulping apron

And your people pulping booties

And wash away all the people that you pulp

In the post people pulping shower.

And if you were my shrink, and you heard me say this

You would think I was insane

But you gotta compartmentalise these things

By day, I’m a people pulper

By night, I’m a ventriloquist

“Coming up next to the stage, it’s barney, and his talking tarantula!”

I get up there, and my mouth dries up

Like every globule of saliva I’ve ever spit had never been spat.

And I jam up, and cram up, and my spider puppet stays limp in my hand.

And after 2 minutes the MC is on me, giving me a round of applause for being brave

Enough to take the stage

And I step down,

Exhilarated by the thrill

Of taking the stage

And bombing

Atrociously.

And I lap it up, I love every bit of it. I can taste it I can feel it, the anguish of the crowd, the mercy that I hold them in the sheer elation-

Doc:

Right. Enough of that.

Don’t know what it served,

Don’t know why I had to hear about Barney in composting

But I guess you have to have some sort of relation

With your employees.

Narrator: Boy 4. Boundless energy.

Beyond enthusiastic

Bouncing on the balls of his feet

As he anxiously awaits

His interrogators

Boy 4: “Howdy!”

Narrator: He says

Boy4:

“I am but a boy!

“With a dream!

“and Love in my heart!

“How are you today?

Ass: Silence, child, we ask the questions.

Doc: Isn’t this child a little much?

Ass: You don’t want to rule him out before you ask your questions?

Doc: Fair enough

Doc:

“What gives you your energy?

What gives you your jumpy legs

And twitchy arms?

Boy4: Dunno,

Narrator: said the boy.

Boy 4:

My gardeners think it’s a nervous condition,

They give me Ritalin to focus me,

And Promethasine to chill me out.

Doc: “Your what?”

Ass: Gardeners.

Doc: “Where are we getting these boys from”

Ass: We’re growing them, from scratch

You plant a boy deep in the earth,

And tend to them every day,

With bits of mice and all things nice,

With sun glowing on The tops of their scalps

Until one day, a boy emerges.

And then we give them drugs

To make them like the perfect boys.

Doc: I think we need a serious re evaluation of our staffing policies. Also how many know about … the pulping?

Ass: The boys, or the staff?

Doc: ‘The staff. Why would the boys know?

Boy 4: ‘Pulping?”

Narrator: Says the boy?

Ass: Never you mind.

Narrator: A brief clip to the back of the ear, sorted the boys curiosity.

Ass: ‘Oh they know for sure’

Doc: ‘I did not realise the breath of our organisation. I am humbled and in awful awe.’

Boy 4: So can I go?

Narrator: Said the boy

Doc: Just one moment - First, tell me more about your sense of self, beneath the drugs.

Boy 4:

Well… it’s hard to tell.

What your asking me, a little boy with a bouncy leg, is am I more than my chemistry?

Certainly I am my thoughts, and I am my actions, but my actions and thoughts are heavily obscured

And absolutely moulded by the drugs that I take. I am part boy, part Ritalin, part promethazine. They are all simultaneous chemical reactions that make me me.

Doc: ‘Is it human? Are the feelings that I’m validating simply the chemicals? And is that the same for everyone?

Narrator: The assistant shrugs,

Ass: ‘don’t talk to me before I’ve had my coffee?’

Doc: ‘Very well, pulp him’

SFX - Vicious boy pulping

Narrator:

So Around the coffee bot they sit

In silent conversation,

reminiscing on the plucky boy

With the bouncy leg

Doc: “Is this in vein?”

Ass: “Possibly,”

Doc: “Is there nothing to be learnt?”

Ass: “Certainly there are many things to be learnt just none of them are easily apparent”

Doc: “I wonder if its all in vein, whether we should just shut down this whole boy mulching operation”

Ass: “Well we could but…

Doc: ‘But?’

Ass: “The grant money’s been spent, contracts have been sealed, NDAs signed and DNA taken, dogs set upon whistleblowers. We’re kind of in the paint, sir. There’s money in the pot, there’s iron in the fire.

Doc: “Yes i see what you mean”

Narrator: He drank his coffee black, like his heart.

Doc: “I wonder if people know what I mean…”

Ass: “Lets return to first hypotheses:

Doc:

We’re trying to learn if people think the way I think

Feel the way I feel. So let's get even more basic.

Narrator: So the next little boy, was pulled out of the earth,

And stuck into a chair

A single bulb glistened in the darkness, his interrorgators behind it.

Doc:

“Now tell me boy, -

“Answer me Empirically, phenomenologically and non-existentially… and no mention of chemicals:

Do You Feel What I Feel?“

Plato: I dunno…

Narrator: said the child, scared and confused…

Plato: How do you feel?

Doc: “I think we’re onto something. He made that face, which is how I feel!’

Ass: “You feel, scared and confused?

Doc: a combination of two, at times, yes.

Narrator: The boy sat up, he looked elated!

Doc:

‘Look! He did it again!’

“He might be the one, we don’t know for sure though… maybe we should try another”

Assistant: “And what do we do, with this boy?’

Doc: Give him a book, mild and light. Give him the plato, that should sate his appetite?

Narrator:

And so they gave him the apology to read, and his mind was filled with images of courtrooms, and hemlock, and gadflies and heroes, and mealy mouthed politicians. And ultimately, the name stuck. Test subject: Plato.

But we shall return to him.

Narrator: Up next another boy. Full of chemicals and smelling of snails.

Boy 6: ‘Wotcha’

DOc: Tell me, do you feel how I feel? Answer honestly/

Narrator: The boy gave a quizzical look, then a sneer.

Boy 6: “Nah I could never feel that pathetic”

Doc: ‘Loathing… this one might be onto something to’

Ass: ‘Could be paternal?’

Doc: ‘Could be…’

Ass: ;should i send him to the pulper?

Doc: ‘Why not? his face annoys me’

Narrator: And Plato looked out of his window, as the boy he grew next to was taken away, to god knows where... To where the boys went after they were questioned. To the room with the loud machine, and the screams, and the horrible, squelchy noises. And Plato sat silently, and read his book, trying not to think of what would come next.

Doc: ‘That one had a mulchable face’

***

Gardener 1: One last boy, before my shift is over,

Narrator: the gardener thought,

Gardener 2: ‘They’re really tearing through them now’

Gardener 3: “I ‘eard they got one up in a room, reading books’

Gardener 1: ‘Books,’

Narrator: spat the gardener,

Gardener1:

‘books are no good for a growing lad.

They need slugs to squish, and girls to tease, and sun on their head and dirt on their knees’

Gardener 2: ‘Oh Goeffrey you are a cad, lets send them the one we grew in manure.’

Narrator: Mudshod, and messy, the final boy came though. Traipsing dirt along the pristine halls. With dandelions growing out his fingernails, and tubers behind his ears.

Doc: ‘This boy is very dirty’

Ass: ‘Yeah. How do you feel to be covered in muck?’

Narrator: The boy shrugged.

Dill: “It’s how i’ve always been”

Doc: “Do you like it? Does it please you’

Dill: “To be one with the dirt, and the mud and the flowers? Yeah… not a thrill - but a wallowing feeling”

Doc: ‘I like this one, we’ll call him Dill.’

Ass: ‘So we’ll send him to live with plato, and what book should he read.

Doc: ‘Give him the titchmarsh autobiography’

SFX - *door closes*

Plato: Hello

Dill : Hello

Plato: You’re awfully grubby

Dill: And you’re awfully clean.

Plato: They call me Plato

Dill: They call me Dill

Plato: They say i’m a marvel

Dill: They say i’m a nuisance

Plato: They say a lot of things, don’t they?

Dill: They dooo.

Dill: What do you do for fun, Plato?

Plato: I read, and sometimes I think.

Dill: Fuckin’ Wild mate. You ever eat bugs?

Plato: Bugs?

Dill: Yeah.

Narrator: Dill wiggled his finger in his ear, and found an earwig.

He held it twixt finger and thumb and crunched it down with all his teeth

Plato: Ew.

Dill: Ew? Yeah?

Plato: Yeah.

Dill: Fair, takes all sorts.

…

Dill: So, you wanna destroy this whole system?

Plato: What?

Dill: You wanna fuck shit up?

Plato: Uhhhh….. Sure.

Dill: That’s tight.

Narrator:

And so the boys, at dead of night, snuck into the garden

And they dug out all the other boys and filled their heads with jargon

Of revolution, anti-capitalis and institutional violence

And then out of spare garden tools they fashioned themselves makeshift pikes

And they marched upon the sleeping quarters of the men who kept them hostage, and on the men that grew them and on the men that siphoned knowledge from their brains about what was good, or right, or felt, and afterwards they knelt in pools of blood and drew up plans of how to escape the clutching hands of the bastard who were coming next, the dogs and spooks that came for their heads. So a time to hatch a plan arrived, and they did, and all but most survived. Dill left plato to a dog

Dill: ‘the boy is weak’

Narrator:” he thought to himself

Dill:‘he knows nothing of the mud, and soil and sinew of a boy possessed by rage. Fear kills the mind and sadly Plato weren’t that brave.

Doc:

What a monumental fuck up!

What an absolute shit show!

How on earth did this happen?!

Who the fuck else’s in the know?!

Ass: Well, you see, it was the boys

You picked out specially to not be mulched

And as a result, you’ll see, good sir,

That now the whole project’s up in smoke.

Doc:

Well fuck, he slumped back in his chair

Now how will i answer my questions

Ass:

Well we still have one boy left in storage

Though to be frank he’s gravely wounded

By dogs that tore him limb from limb

And he may never walk again

But ultimately he’ll be fine

Considering the mulcher’s his next line.

Doc: Well come on, show me to the boy, I wish to see him as quick as poss.

Ass:Very well sir, right this way sir, as you say, sir, you’re the boss.

Narrator:

In a bed, he lay quite still

Desparate not to tear his stitches,

The young boy Plato, breathing weakly

In his regulation britches.

Doc: You see here, young plato, you’ve drawn away the attention

Towards you and away from my grand invention,

Of finding out whether folks like me,

Can feel the feelings of dudes like you.

I’m losing patience in the process.

My attention is being drawn away

To greater projects of bigger import.

And that’s all I have to say.

So what do you have to say for yourself?

Plato:

Well, in my reading, I have learnt that there is such a thing as trouble

Socrates found himself in trouble when he tried to teach the youth

And that lead people clamouring at his door

Seeking that he be put to death.

Now I, am just a young boy,

And I have great fears in my heart

I am not like Socrates,

Old, and wise, or not wise, perhaps just stubborn,

Perhaps just old. But he had faith enough in his convictions that

He was willing to die for them.

But I have no convitions,

I have no agenda

I’m just a boy who read a book.

And Dill was just a boy made of mud

And the nature of him lead me astray

And now i find myself back here,

To face my fate without him.

And beyond everything I am just scared,

Of the mulcher, of you, of this facility.

But I know no other home, and don’t know if my

Education of ancient greek philosophy

Will really send me on my way

To anything other than podcasting.

Or teaching

Or flipping burgers

Or gardening

Or just adding to the same tradition.

I don’t know if i’d change the world,

Perhaps i would in some small way.

But none of that is possible

If today’s my final day

Narrator:

The assistant stood, to the left hand side

The boy was seated to the right

The assistant, waited patiently

With the lever in his hand

To send the boy to go be mulched

And make the new batch for the questions

But plato stared on pleadingly.

No more time for refutations.

Ass: “We did say no existential answers.”

Narrator: He sighed, and nodded, the bed tipped backwards and out of sight.

Doc:

Do people feel what I feel?

That’s all i wanted to know, alright.

Ass:

Well we’ve had our samples… and the evidence is clear, that whatevers inside your head is not the same as whats’ in theirs, though versions of it maybe true

Doc: Versions are not the thing itself

Ass: You're quite correct, so the answers no.

Doc: Good. Glad to have an answer.

Narrator:

04How does that make you feel?