Slippin' Into Darkness Part 3
by Butch Rosser

 Home | Columns | Fiction | Transcripts

When he was a younger man he routinely got up on Saturday around 6:15.  The house was his, the TV was his, and he'd watch some cartoons and college football until his parents lurched out of bed at the crack of noon.
 
But that was before he'd gotten old (22) and cynical (more like 85), before the world had pressed the ejector button and flung him into Outcastia.
 
So, with all that true, how the hell was he up at 10?
 
The show was tonight, and it had been a couple of months for KTO.  Obstenibly, they were going to the beach for promotion for the show, but of course in reality they were going to ogle any and all attractive women.    He cleaned out his flask, as usual tracing a fingertip over the bullet wound, and replaced it with as much orange juice as it could hold.   The roomates were bringing along things besides fliers, but he took note to snatch the football on the way out.
 
As the afternoon began he felt an odd sense of calm, which naturally scared the fuck out of him.  He'd contemplated taking a nap, but he feared his skin would burn quick and really the juice was keeping him awake.  They were formulating a playlist for tonight, and he was getting the lion's share of the picks.
 
"We're not doing an 'NSync medley!"
 
"Well, hold on here--it's not like we're doing it straight.  We're doing it punk.  Plus, it'll be fun to screw with people."
 
Well, if it was one thing they were known for, it was screwing with people.
 
"Ah, all right.  But if it bombs tonight, you fucking owe us."
 
With that, the obligatory celebratory mushroom & pepperoni pizza was on.  Since the ordinace had yet to pass, maybe he could buffer it with some Heinekens. Actually, that was a good idea...go home, catch the football, take a nap, get up in time for the party & show.
 
A broad smile crossed his face for the first time in two months.  Screwups they may be, but the idea of doing more shows always got him amped and excited...
 
That was the last thought he had as he was struck in the head.