Volition Man (available here) is the second book in my Genre Series.
I’ve been told by a friend and fellow writer that it doesn’t
completely suck.
Well – what more do you need to know?
This is the second installment of Chapter L. If you want to start
from the beginning, the first installment is here.
Chapter L Part Two
Dirgan fell asleep.
There wasn’t much happening for a while after that.
Then Dirgan’s eyeballs started moving rapidly. Inside Dirgan’s
brain, synapses fired and the similitude of music formed in his head.
The music sounded something like Turkey
in the Straw. Dirgan’s mouth
grimaced; he didn’t like that tune. The music changed to the theme
song from All in the Family.
That was better. Images began forming in Dirgan’s unconscious
mind. Spon Ghi, dressed in tuxedo and clown shoes, appeared on an
old vaudeville-type stage.
“Welcome to Dirgan Voleman’s dream,” said Spon
Ghi in a voice Dirgan had never heard him use before. It was an
enthusiastic voice, like you might imagine a game show host would
use… in Calcutta. “Our dream tonight is brought to you by Pepsi,
the cola you have to buy if you don’t like Coke.”
“Pepsi,” murmured Dirgan’s sleeping lips.
“Also by,” said Spon Ghi, “Jack’s Magical
Beans! Don’t have a cow, Man, get Jack’s Magical Beans.”
“The magical fruit,” murmured Dirgan’s lips.
Dagmar appeared on the stage with a giant cartoon
hammer with which she flattened Spon Ghi in one great, fluid-filled
splat. As she pulled the hammer up, Spon Ghi unfolded like an
accordion, soaking up his bodily fluids as his figure rose. Dagmar
and Spon Ghi repeated the process half a dozen times to raucous
laughter from an audience that appeared suddenly around Dirgan.
There was also a bag of popcorn in Dirgan’s hand.
“Popcorn,” murmured Dirgan.
A giant hook appeared from off-stage pulling Spon Ghi
and Dagmar off stage. Apparently it pulled Dirgan, too, because
suddenly he was in a space ship. He was flying near a Swiss cheese
moon. A dish and a spoon were seated behind him.
“Step on it, Man,” said the spoon. “They’re
gaining on us.”
The dish next to him just blushed. In the rearview
mirror, a cat and a laughing dog were in a sleigh pulled by assorted
dishes and cutlery. The cat was whipping on the utensils with a
violin bow.
Dirgan looked around for the cow. There had to be a
cow in a scene like this.
Suddenly there were lots of cows, and Dirgan seemed
to be one of them. No, he was all of them. Dirgan felt the grass
through a hundred cloven hooves, the digestive juices of twenty-five,
four-compartmented, stomachs, and the yearning of twenty-five udders,
with four teats each, needing to be milked.
But there was something else, and it made Dirgan a
little dizzy. Not only was he twenty-five cows, but he was also a
little girl sitting on a soft bag of wool and straw and spooning
curdled milk into his (her) mouth.
“Blecchk!” Dirgan murmured in his sleep.
Sorry about leaving you with a bad taste in your mouth. Who knows
what indignities await our hero? Come back Monday for part 3!
Last time I gave you a completely unrelated video by Bill Cosby. I
might as well make it a trend.
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