It's Tuesday, so here's the Teaser!
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“Ah, come on, Jack. Jesse, Jesse Whitfield. You remember, that crazy, homeless bastard?”
“Of course…I remem…Jess…but…” Confusion had joined morphine, two against not really even one at this point, the formidable tug-of-war team determined to see lucidity covered in sloppy, slimy mud. Why is…IV guy…Jesse…? “Who…are you?”
“A friend. What did youse talk about when you saw him today? What did he tell you?”
Ah, well, no more energy to focus or figure out needed to be scraped from his on empty batteries now. With that one question from the insincere smile at the other end of his nose, this bizarre and off-putting conversation pulled up short. “Sorry, can't say..." He had better places to be anyway then knocking on this conundrum’s door while wearing cut-offs to a black tie soiree. "...attor… nery/cli…ent…” Lashes went a’visiting, bumping once…twice…to stop for an extended stay with their southern kin. “…pri…vledge. Now, if...you will...ex...” Where were…Mustang…empty…lot…Ennis fucking…Ennis spank –
“Oh, not you don’t, Jack.” Four slaps, quick and sharp, against a slackened jaw. “No falling asleep on me now. Where is it?”
“Fucking ass…hole…” Anger stepped up, taking the anchor spot for the home team, a one-handed yank, and the marker flag returned to the middle of the mud pit, fuzzy and stupid retreating to the concessions stand for nachos and a slushee. “Don’t you fuck…ing touch…” Fish flopping time again, Jack struggled against drugs and fatigue, pillows and blankets, IVs and immobilizer to reach a less beached whale, tied to the tracks, deer out in the open on hunting season’s first day, helplessly vulnerable position he found himself in. Skinny ass…guy is in…serious need of…some bed…side manner…interven…tion. “…me a – hey, get – away - put that – god – damnit!”
“Where is it, Jack?” Case files, legal pads, law books, Post-It notes, newspaper, take-out menus, boxers, pencils, pens, Tic-Tacs, the hands violating his message bag indiscriminately dumping his life across the floor. “Where is it?”
“Stop – what -” Jack could take comfort for help was but a convenient thumb press away, the call button ready and eager to summon an angel of mercy in SpongeBob scrubs from the nurse’s station just a few scant yards down the hall. This is...so going on my...com...ment...card where...where...is... Help to retrieve said call button the fish flopping had bounced out of reach for his IV imprisoned hand to dangle by a slick white cord off the side of the bed was but a few scant feet across the room turning his message bag inside out, demanding answers to enigmatic questions and all Jack could take from that was panic. “Shit.”
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See youse tomorrow!
B