Don't Stop Til You Get Enough

Originally published in Wicked Hawt magazine
reprinted with (assumed) permission

Another excerpt from 'Devil King Of Children'
a novel in progress by Bill Chambers

[Editor's note: This was written, and thus much more effective, prior to the death of Michael Jackson.]

And so it was written that the infamous Jackson family would reunite yet again for a final farewell concert, only this time it would take place on a billion dollar cruise ship in undisclosed, international waters. The audience was comprised of high profile American celebrities, political and religious leaders from around the world, the five Primi of the Illuminati, fifty contest winners (all from North America), and various members of the extended Jackson clan, including Michael Jackson's ex-wife Lisa Marie Presley. Each guest (including the contest winners) was required to pay $3000 to witness this "once in a lifetime" concert event. Somehow this bizarre situation provided a legal loophole which, for reasons too elaborate to explain, allowed for maximum, untaxable financial gain for the Jackson family, who orchestrated this whole event for the sole purpose of promoting Michael's latest album, "Horrifying" (but also to launder money for the Vatican.)

[page missing]

Seconds before the entire ship capsized, leaving most of the crew and passengers completely unprepared for their violent, watery deaths, all six Jackson brothers, and their parents Joe and Katherine, managed to escape on an inflatable life raft. The brothers routinely picked up Michael (who was catatonic) like a rolled-up carpet and promptly deposited him on the raft. Then the other Jacksons climbed on and quickly set sail before any of the other passengers could board, even though it was the last life-raft and there was room for at least six more. Unbelievably, the Jacksons somehow all survived the storm, only to set adrift aimlessly for days in a yellow raft somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Eventually, hunger, thirst, and maddening endless sunlight took their toll, and, in a cathartic act of revenge and desperation, the brothers gruesomely and unremorsefully devoured their parents. At first they were shocked at how easy it was to dominate the elderly couple, but even more shocking was how quickly and passionately the brothers disemboweled and feasted on the innards of their own parents.

The following are transcripts of conversations from the final hours of the Jackson brothers, as recorded on the digital police wire that Tito was required by Federal Law to wear at all times, and which was recovered months later, tangled in a human skeleton found in a Lebanese drainage ditch.


TRANSCRIPT 1

Jermaine:
It's weird how we are probably the last people alive from that ship... I don't know, it's just really weird.

[long silence]

I mean, they were all there to see us perform and everything, and its just-

Marlon:
Weird, we know, it's all so weird. That's all you fucking say, man, please, just shut the fuck up about how weird it is! Why don't you think about how the fuck we gonna get rescued, or how we ain't gonna starve to death and shit!!

Michael:
I think it's obvious.

[brief silence]

Jackie:
Uh, when we ate Mom and Joseph, it was just kind of one of those things, you know? One of us probably would have killed them eventually anyway, even if we didn't need to… do what we did.

Marlon:
Yo, we ate Joseph for three days, and I don't remember YOU skipping any meals!

Jackie:
Look, I'm just saying that we should concentrate on getting rescued BEFORE we starve-

Randy:
I barely got four bites.

Jackie: (getting exasperated)
Okay, okay, then how the fuck do we decide which one of us gets fucking eaten, huh? What, are we just going to fucking draw straws and shit?!?

[brief silence]

Michael:
I think we should go by which one of us is the least popular.

Marlon:
Hey, why is everyone looking at me? Randy wasn't even in the Jackson 5!!! Kids loved me! I was "Michael's closest brother," remember? Nobody ever liked Tito, let's eat him!

Tito:
You're fooling yourself, bro. I was lead guitar. You were the dead weight. What does everyone else think?

[sounds of general agreement]

Marlon:
Dead weight my ass!! Jackie was the dead weight, and we all know it. He was just the loser hanging out with his little brothers!

Jackie:
I wasn't such a loser when I was fucking Paula Abdul up the ass, now was I? I vote that we eat Marlon, because he's such a bitch-ass. By the way, how's your wife, Marlon? Think you'll ever get back together?

Marlon:
Eat Shit, Jackie!!! I vote that we eat you!! Are you with me, brothers?? Plus he's big enough to feed us until we get rescued! Let's eat Jackie!!

Randy:
I vote for eating Marlon. So that's two votes for Marlon. This doesn't have to be unanimous, does it?

Marlon: (nervously)
Whoa, hold up, hold up. Michael, you haven't said anything, what do you think? Please little brother, remember all the fun times we had? Ain't that worth anything? Let's eat Jermaine instead, he's the one that abandoned the family!! He didn't care about his brothers back then, who’s to say that he wouldn't turn on us now?

Jermaine:
You're a little bitch, Marlon!! You know how hard my life was back then, I had a family of my own, and-why the fuck do I have to explain myself again? Besides, Michael forgave me already, right Mike?

[brief silence]

Marlon:
Jermaine was always trying to hog your spotlight, remember, Mike? I knew my place, but Jermaine had no talent, he was just playing yours!!

Jermaine:
I had two Top 10 singles as a solo artist, bitch! When's your next album coming out?

Tito:
I vote for Marlon.

Jermaine:
Me, too... Marlon or Randy.

Randy:
Fuck You!!!

[awkward silence]

Tito:
So, it's Marlon then, right Michael?

Marlon:
Please, Michael, please. Look at me. Just look me in the eyes. Don't let them kill me!! I'm your brother, man, your fucking brother! I'm begging you, little brother! Please don't let them eat me!!

[brief silence]

Michael:
But they outvoted you. Sorry, Marlon.

Marlon:
Mike, you can't do that, you can't fucking do that!!
[muffled sounds]
Hey get off me, get the fuck off!!

[muffled sounds of screaming followed by silence]


TRANSCRIPT 2

Randy: (whispering)
This is all Michael's fault. All this shit. I say we eat him next.

Tito: (whispering)
Michael couldn't feed the three of us. There was barely enough meat on Jermaine to last one day. No way Mike gonna work. We gotta eat fucking Jackie.

Randy:
Jackie is our oldest brother and my best friend. He's on our side, Tito, let's get Mike instead. He's fucked in the head. All he does is sleep or sit there without talking, cradling Jermaine's skull like some sort of trophy. I'm telling you, he's fucked.

Tito:
I can't turn on Mike. It's like he's got a spell on me, I mean, he can sense what I'm thinking before I think it or something. He's the only one who can get us out of here.

Randy:
You're starting to scare me, bro. He's not in control, he's just one man. Maybe if we kill him, you'll understand.

Tito:
Fuck that. I'd rather kill you. You're still really weak, I bet I could kill you without even waking Michael up. Then he would be so pleased when he wakes to find your bludgeoned head hanging over the side, weeping blood into the great blue sea...

Randy:
Dude, what the fuck are you talking about? You can't kill me, I-
[gurgling sounds]
Get off! Help me Michael-
[gurgling sounds]

[a dull thud can be heard, followed by many furious hitting noises]

Tito:
Jackie! Michael! Wake up, wake up!! Something happened to Randy!!!


TRANSCRIPT 3

This final excerpt documents the apparent final words of Tito, the last survivor of the life-raft. He is talking out loud to himself, using a variety of different voices which seem to represent the people indicated in the transcript.

Tito: (singing)
Here we are, face to face, a couple of silver spoons…

[Tito changes his voice to sound like Michael]

Michael voice:
You betrayed us, Tito.

[Tito then changes his voice to sound like Jackie]

Jackie voice: (screaming)
Murderer!! Murderer!!! For the love of God, don't let me die like this!!!

Tito:
No, it's not like that, don't you see? You'll both live forever in me, through me! Michael is the Eye and Jackie is the Snake, and I am the Great Pyramid!!!

Michael voice:
You killed God.

Tito:
Jesus wasn't God. No man is God. Not even Michael Fucking Jackson. God is Man, not one, but all men. You are not IT, but you are just a vessel for IT.

Jackie voice: (screaming)
STOP IT!!! STOP IT!!! STOP IT!!!

Tito:
What is IT? Well, it is lots of things. The words I say, the way they sound. The smell of death, the taste of life; Your death, the blood- it's all part of IT, and at the same time ALL of IT, and also NONE of IT.

Jackie voice: (screaming)
Michael, do something!!! How can you sit there and not do anything!!! MICHAEL!!!! TITO!!!!

Tito:
SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP WHY WON"T YOU SHUT UP!!! You are dead, all dead!!! ALL DEAD!!! And dead people can't talk!!!!!

Michael voice:
Ahh, but remember, you said it yourself, we live forever through you. It is done.

Tito:
That's right, it's fucking done all right, it's fucking done!!! IT'S ALL FUCKING DONE!!!! IT'S ALL FUCKING DONE!!! I AM EVERYTHING!!! IT'S ALL INSIDE!!! I AM THE FUCKING SEA!!! I AM THE FUCKING SEA!!!!

[static noises]

end of transcript

Some Garbage

“Mornin’ Jim. Thanks for coming in.”

“Thanks for seeing me, sir.”

“So I hear you’ve got some good ideas.”

“Yes, well, I’m thinking, Americans need a new Police Academy sequel, and they need it within the next four months.”

“I like it. I like it a lot… go on.”

“Okay, well, I figure, the last seven Police Academy movies have totally cashed in, so let’s just stick to the formula. But maybe, for some reason, the guys all have to go somewhere wacky, on another special assignment.”

“Like China.”

“Uh, yeah, maybe, or Jamaica or something.”

“And they’re hunting down the Chinese Mafia. I like it.”

“Uh, sure, or Jamaican gangsters, it really doesn’t matter. This thing writes itself.”

“Any returning cast members?”

“Bubba Smith is in, the girl with the big tits is interested, and we found a hilarious stand-up guy who could carry this fucking thing.”

“What about Guttenburg?”

“…Uh, didn’t get Guttenburg, but Bobcat Goldthwait is in if, at some point in the movie, he gets to look at the camera, shrug his shoulders and say ‘Here we go again!!’”

“We need Guttenburg…get Guttenburg.”

“Yes, sir…we also got the big fat black guy.”

“Fat guy?”

“Oh, yes sir, fat black guys are golden comedy treasures, I mean, you got the fat guy getting hit in the butt, the fat guy pigging out in the cafeteria, the fat guy failing in training camp, I mean, you got it all.”

"He has to get hit in the nuts with something.”

“Oh, of course, lots of people get hit in the nuts. I’m telling you, the people need this.”

“The fat guy has to be really dumb.”

“Yeah, whatever you want.”

“Maybe we should have two fat guys.”

“Well, I’m not sure if—“

“And one will be Chinese. What about that guy that makes all the sound effects?”

“…Uh, he shot himself a few years ago.”

“Well, we need a sound effects guy, This IS a fucking Police Academy film.”

“Yes, sir. The stand-up comedian I mentioned earlier does lots of fantastic sound effects.”

“Does he do farting noises? Because that would go well with the fat guy.”

“He does all sorts of noises. And he’ll work cheap.”

“Okay, but if he has a mustache, make him shave it. The last sound effects guy looked like a fucking pedophile!"

“Yes, sir.”

“But Guttenburg can keep his mustache, if it means he’ll sign on.”

“I don’t think he’ll sign on, sir…look, is this thing a go? I kind of need to know by 4:30.”

“Why?”

“Well…if you give me the green light, I can use it as collateral with my dealer, and he won’t smash my kneecaps.”

“Who, Jimmy? He’ll probably just burn your neck with a cigar.”

"Christ, just give me the green fucking light!!”

“Maybe you should ask your boss.”

“My BOSS??!! Do you think I have a fucking JOB?!??”

Album Of The Week: Dick Hyman, "The Eclectic Electrics Of Dick Hyman"

Dick Hyman:

The man with the BEST name in show business, ever.

On top of that, he is a master jazz & classical pianist with probably over 100 albums in his catalog.

Throughout the 1960's, Hyman recorded several albums for Command Records, the infamous psych-lounge label run by the Jesus Christ of the genre, Enoch Light.

Shortly after the Moog synthesizer was introduced to the unknowing public, Hyman recorded two groundbreaking albums, using this newly available technology.

Here's one of them. The discerning ear will notice bits and pieces sampled in several Beastie Boys songs.

Click on the subject line of this blog for the link.

Enjoy!

bc

PS: Of course, the purpose of these free downloads is so you can preview them, and then purchase the music through legitimate means. I would never encourage anybody to subvert the music industry. There it is, in writing. That's exactly how I officially feel.

Urban Slang Word Of The Day: "Front"

M*A*S*H* Action Figures

Yes, I own these.

I can't decide if I should be proud or embarrassed, but nonetheless...

awesome push-button action!!!

notice the extremely rare "Klinger In Drag" in the back left, with regular Klinger on the right.

a side view, featuring the M*A*S*H* jeep

These dolls undoubtedly provided hours of fun for young children all over America in the 70s and 80s.

[She] Wants To F*** Jake Gyllenhaal

This is a video from my good friend Stephanie Holmes.

I play one of the Jakes at the end.

Album Of The Week: Grant Green, "Visions"

Starting today, I'm going to start posting links to downloads some of my favorite albums.

Of course, the purpose of these free downloads is so you can preview them, and then purchase the music through legitimate means. I would never encourage anybody to subvert the music industry. There it is, in writing. That's exactly how I officially feel.

So to start things off, check out Visions, by Grant Green.

Grant Green is one of my absolute favorite jazz guitarists, and despite increasing posthumous fame, he really never quite got his due as one of the supreme players from the halcyon days of Blue Note. If your a jazz snob, that is. And if so, well fuck you. Shouldn't you be busy getting me kicked off of your precious usenet boards??

Anyway, Visions isn't THE quintessential Grant Green album; in fact, aside from his unmistakable tone, this record is kinda unique compared to the rest of his musical canon.

But it's hot as shit, sho nuff muthafuckah!

(hint: click on the subject line of this blog to download. I promise, no viruses, etc)

Here's a sketch I did of Grant Green:

My Response To What Happened To The DTBS Dancers

As you are surely aware, The Dare To Be Stupid Dancers were scheduled to be on the WGG show last week.

The DTBSD was a group of morbidly obese adolescent boys, dressed in Hawaiian shirts, who danced around to "Weird Al Yankovic" songs.

By the second or third song, they're usually rolling around on the floor, red-faced from uncontrollable giggling.

Good stuff- that's why I booked them.

They were based out of Plattsburgh, NY, so I knew they chartered a bus to get down here, equipped with external foghorns to blare Weird Al songs. Those kids were slick, I have to say.

The roads upstate are apparently still pretty treacherous from the storms last week, and, consequently, their bus slid out of control somewhere in the Catskills, flipped over a few times, and then caught fire.

Apparently a few of the kids who weren't instantly killed tried to crawl their way out of the wreckage. As a witness described it, "it was like these big balls of fire, with Hawaiian shirts melted over them like cheese... just like fireballs, with little chubby arms and legs flailing around, screaming for their mothers."

"The creepy part was how those foghorns kept blasting 'I Love Rocky Road' at full volume while those fat kids all burned to death... I still see it when I close my eyes."

So anyway, I think my show might be cursed.

First Vincenzo the Monkey commits suicide, and now this.

And for some reason, part of me feels like some of that fat kid blood is on MY hands.

Well, hey, spilled milk, right?

The next World's Greatest Grandson show is Tuesday June 8th- with special musical guests The Cowmen!!!

Love,

bc

Learn To Breakdance- Lesson 7

Snapping & Popping, Lesson 7

3 more lessons to go, then we'll move on to Top-Rocking.

But for now keep practicing those snaps & pops!

Word,

bc

Random Sketchbook Shit

Train Of Souls

When watching "classic" episodes of Soul Train, I find myself wondering how many of those teenage dancers are now dead, and also how they died.

As the camera pans across the studio, I pick them out.

Dead, drug overdose.

Dead, suicide.

Dead, thrown down the stairs by her boyfriend.

And so forth.


Then I wonder about the ones who are still alive.

Do they bore everyone with stories about being a former Soul Train dancer, or do they intentionally try to keep it from ever coming up in conversation?

The Lost Origins Of Bill Chambers, part 1

An excerpt from the rejected "Jonny Cigar Halloween Special" script


SEAN
"Jonny Of The Night" was a complete failure, and it was cancelled after the third episode. Two weeks later, Jonny was arrested for punching Aaron Spelling in the face while shooting a guest spot on The Love Boat. After that, he couldn’t even get an audition in this town, and just being associated with Jonny Cigar made it impossible to get any work. Eventually, we decided that our only option was to commit suicide. So we all went down to Bill’s apartment, shut all the windows, and turned on the gas oven. Then we just kinda sat there, waiting for the inevitable.


flashback to suicide attempt:

cast is all slouched in their chairs, speaking very lethargically

JONNY
Well, it looks like this is it, boys. It’s only a matter of minutes now.

SEAN
See you on the other side, fellas.

JONNY
Heh heh, yeah, read ‘em and weep, God.

SEAN
Heh heh, yeah, don’t forget to write.

JONNY
So long screwy, see ya in St. Louie- coughs.

DEAN
Guys, there’s something I gotta tell you. I know I went along with this whole suicide pact thing, but I didn’t think you were actually gonna go through with it. The thing is, I don’t want to die. I want to live. All I want to do is get up and turn off the oven, but I can barely move. This isn’t how I want it to end. I don’t want to die, Jonny, I don’t want to die...

SEAN
Hey Jonny, can you turn on the radio or something?

JONNY
Yeah... yeah... the radio.

Jonny musters up enough strength to reach up and turn the dial. He eventually ends up stopping on My Way by Frank Sinatra.

JONNY
There we go... the perfect choice for the last song we’ll ever hear.

SEAN
Yeah... cuz we did it our way, eh Jonny?

JONNY
That’s right Ted... We did it our way.

The song finishes, and the DJ starts speaking.

DJ
That was Frank Sinatra with My Way, by request. And that will do it for tonight’s edition of The Oldies Show, right here on WDOV. I’m your host Gene Birmingham, thanks for listening. Now stay tuned for the Rock N Roll Dynamite Hour with Jasper Wiley.
HEY LOS ANGELES, ARE YOU READY FOR 60 MINUTES OF TODAY’S BEST ROCK N ROLL? AEROSMITH, BOSTON, THE EAGLES, BAD COMPANY, BUT RIGHT NOW WE’RE GONNA KICK IT OFF WITH A LITTLE STEVE MILLER BAND, RIGHT HERE ON THE HOME OF NEW ROCK, WDOV!!!!!

Take The Money And Run starts playing.

Jonny, Sean, and Dean are obviously disgusted, even though they cannot move. Bill has not moved since the scene began.

ALL (but Bill)
No! Dear God No! This song sucks! etc.

Dean manages to fall off his chair and starts crawling off stage.

DEAN
Must... turn off gas... cannot... die... while this song is playing...

The three of them stop moving, and Bill suddenly awakens and sits up, revealing a belt strapped around his bicep and a syringe sticking out of his arm.

BILL
Oh, hey guys. When did you get here? Notices needle in his arm -- Heh, sorry, I wasn’t expecting visitors... Hey, you know who called me today? Andrew Lloyd Webber. I thought he was gonna ask me out again, but it turns out he wants to meet Jonny. That crazy son of a bitch wants to put Jonny in a play or something, can you believe that? Anyway, I told him I’d have to run it by Dean, but it sounded like a good- sniff sniff- Hey, does anyone smell gas?

The Same Old Conversation

"Did you hear about that current event?"

"I heard something about it on television, let me tell you about it."

"Well, I read something similar in the paper, so I guess we are both aware of this news item."

"A man on TV took two aspects of this current event and formed a rational conclusion. I will repeat what I heard as if I arrived at this conclusion myself."

"Yes, and despite my relative ignorance of the complexities of this situation, I have come up with an over-simplified solution."

"Allow me to compliment your apparent astuteness, assuming that you politely do the same."

"Of course, but let's continue our discussion, because I feel smarter and more secure when I enlighten people with obvious ideas and facts."

"I agree. I am so amazed by general information that I feel the necessity to explain it to other people. I think it makes me seem intelligent, and I like to talk, but I never really have anything to talk about."

"Talking about current events and sports helps me relate to people."

"I enjoy sports, too. Did you watch the big game?"

"Of course. The announcer came to a conclusion about one player. I am not too smart, and I only like and respond to things that other people like and respond to, so I agree with the announcer's comment."

"Well, somebody else said something different about that player, so now I say it, too."

"We can playfully question each other's intelligence by disagreeing about the player."

"Only if it is understood that we are both agree about the generalities of the team and the game."

"Then we can discuss sports every morning."

"That is something that occurs naturally in society, so it makes sense not to question it."

"It seems like a good idea that we become friends. People are supposed to have friends."

"Yes, then we can say and do many different things, and respond to basic human interactions."

"This is alleged to be important."

Urban Slang Word Of The Day: "Dis"

Disturbing Childhood Drawings

When I was a kid, I used to write and draw a comic book called "Oswald."

Here are a few random, out of context panels from some of the issues I was able to reclaim from the school psychologist.

Eazy-E & The Mystery Of Blackbeard's Treasure

This is the cover of the first issue of my latest defunct zine.

Not Garfield

High School Hi-Jinx

Not Peanuts

Learn To Breakdance- Lesson 6

Snapping & Popping, Lesson 6

Don't forget- try to "feel" the rhythm; let it guide you.

You should be always be hitting the snaps and pops on the 1s and 3s, get that down as a foundation before you start trying to get super-ill.

You're getting there, though- keep practicing!

bc

All Alan, Alda Time

For some reason, Alan Alda pays regular visits to my dreamscape.

Well, it's not completely random; M*A*S*H* was omnipresent throughout my childhood.

In fact, I was named after Benjamin "Hawkeye" Pierce, which, subconsciously, is probably one of the reasons why I rarely use my real name anymore.

Nonetheless, I've been a huge fan of the M*A*S*H* multiverse for most of my life.

I still remember the fervor surrounding the final episode, even though I was in 3rd grade. It was one of the only times besides "dinner time" that all 6 members of my household were voluntarily in the same room with each other.

Watching that final episode was the catalyst for my personal M*A*S*H* fandom.

I started absorbing the TV series through re-runs, and then I discovered that the show was based on a movie, which was based on a book. This was before my family had a VCR, so seeing the movie was virtually impossible, even if my parents would have let me watch it (I was 7 years old, after all).

That summer, I was permitted to read the original novel, by Richard Hooker. It was nothing like the TV show, except for some of the central characters. It was also really hard to understand, even for a precocious third-grader like me. For instance, there's a part where one of the doctors wants to commit suicide because he became spontaneously impotent. I'll never forget asking my dad what is going on in that scene, what the word "impotent" means, etc, because it led to my dad fumbling through a pre-mature crash course in "the birds and the bees."

I finally saw the film a few years later, which is still one of my Top 10 favorite movies of all time. Robert Altman directs, Donald Sutherland plays Hawkeye, Elliot Gould plays Trapper John, it's got Robert Duvall... Altman's M*A*S*H* follows close to the original novel, and it's a very dark, almost non-linear film that introduced a lot of cutting-edge cinematic devices to mainstream film-making. It's a truly fantastic movie.

So, as the film is based on the book, the TV show was based on the film. But the television M*A*S*H* features an alternate universe, if you will. They cut a few major characters out completely, ret-conned Frank Burns, and the remaining central characters are much more socially redeeming than their cinematic counterparts.

Anyway, as I became more aware of the M*A*S*H* multiverse, I was drawn back to the original novel. I then discovered that the novel had 13 literary sequels, which followed the original characters on various adventures after the Korean War ended. Of course, I own them all.

The sequels vary in quality, but they're interesting in how they establish yet another tangential, parallel M*A*S*H "reality."

Now, why the fuck did I start writing about this again?

Oh right- Alan Alda shows up in my dreams pretty regularly- not all the time, but consistently.

Here are two random "dream journal" excerpts involving Alan Alda:

-Last night, I had a dream that I was at some sort of social gathering and Alan Alda was there. So was another cast member of MASH, but I can’t remember who. I thought that I should alert Alan of this other MASH alumni, but for some reason, I just couldn’t get close to him. Any time I tried to get near him to talk, something would happen and I would be foiled, although I can’t remember exactly what. I just remember being frustrated. Then suddenly Alan seemed like he was my dad, or somebody my dad was friends with or related to. It was like “there’s Alan Alda, and he is a member of my family.” Like, I knew him personally via my dad. They both have the same sort of crinkly, twinkly eyes when they smile.

There was a spiral staircase, too, but I can’t remember anything else.

-Another Alan Alda dream, kind of. I am in somebody’s living room, with wood paneled walls and a beige carpet. There is a sliding glass door which leads to the outside, and a black entertainment system cabinet with a TV against the wall. It’s nighttime, and it seems like I am at a sleepover party, because I am sitting on a couch (also beige) in my pajama bottoms and an old red T-shirt with a sheet over me. Everybody else is in sleep clothes like sweatpants and stuff, and their are three or four guys I don’t recognize, and this guy Jake who I used to be in a band with. Jake is lighting black-cat firecrackers and throwing them at me. I tell him to stop and he doesn’t, and finally I get up and cover his head with the sheet and twist it around his neck like a tourniquet and start strangling him and yelling “Say You’re Sorry!”. Even though I’m using all my might in strangling him, he is kind of laughing through the sheet and saying “No Way!” so I start twisting harder and finally he relents and apologizes. So I release him and he’s all pissed and calls me an asshole. Then he throws a pack of Bambu rolling papers at me, and it is apparent that I gave them to him at some point in the past as a token of friendship. I pick them up and see that a piece of the cover has been ripped off as if somebody made a makeshift filter

for one of those European style spliffs. I put them in my pocket, because suddenly I'm wearing brown corduroys and a light blue T-shirt, and I go outside through the glass door. Then I'm at what seems to be a high school keg party, but something awful has happened. Some sort of explosion or something, there are people everywhere screaming and all bloody and dead and mangled on the lawn and floating in the pool.

I am deliriously wasted; in the dream I feel drunk or tripping, and I can’t decide if what I’m seeing is real. A girl named Jenny who I used to have the hots for in high school is ripped apart like this dead possum I saw when I was five years old and used to give me nightmares. A boy named Jeff who was in many of my classes in high school is lying on the ground, but doesn’t seemed injured. He tells me that he saw a dead frog and the frog’s blood was green, and I called him a liar and he playfully says he’s not, and then I realize that he must have severe internal injuries and he is about to die, so I humor him and say that, yes, it’s true that frogs have green blood.

That’s when Alan Alda suddenly appears. He just kind of walks around the corner of the house, and when I notice him, I notice that there is a rescue team that has set up a first-aid tent next to the pool. He says “I’m Alan Alda, what can I do to help?” I am dumbfounded, but when I look into his eyes and see how passionate he is, I snap out of it and point him to Jeff. Jeff is dead, but he has a smile on his face. I feel like it would be convenient to pass out, and in the dream it feels like I am actually making myself go to sleep, and then Alan puts his hand on my shoulder. I can feel the hand but my eyes are closed. I remember deciding that it was worth it to wake up because he is Alan Alda and he needs my help, and when I make myself wake up in the dream I actually woke up in real life.

my collection of MASH novels