Title:   BEER BOTTLE BLUES

Co-authored by:        Bill  and  PM--Maria

Date finished:   May 30, 2002

 

 

     The sound of wild music was still in my ears as I walked in the woods.  The party had been fun, a little too fun, and even after a full half hour of being lost and separated from the beer, I was still bumping into trees.  The trees seemed to be more green and the birds more red and yellow and sounds were playing in my head.  Someone had probably messed with my color settings and sound while I was passed out after drinking so much. 

 

     A huge red bird with enormous blue wings and green eyes was sitting on a branch.  "Hello", I said to it, "Parles vous francais?"    "Oui, biensure, je suis un oiseau Francais j ai vole veaucoup de kilometres", it replied.

 

     Sprechen ze Deutch?", I replied, since I didn't know any French, myself.   "Nein, das versteh ich nicht, parla d italiana?", the bird said.

 

     "Sorry", I replied, "I need a mutually incomprehensible language for us, so we can be awash in pure nonsense, which can be refreshing after a stressful day at the office."

 

     "Oh, come on, you weren't at the office; you had a party and now you understand all languages because of the alcohol and illegal drugs you used to get there," said the bird.

 

     "Yes," I replied, "but don't forget that I've been bumping into trees for the past half hour, and that can adversely affect one's memory for some things a wee bit, especially if you use your head for the bumping, as I have been doing."

 

     "The world you live in now is all imaginary," said the bird, "so enjoy it and later, when you wake up, you will smile."

 

     "My head hurts too much for this to be a dream for me," I replied, "but maybe it is for you, so I think I'll pinch you to wake you up!"   With a loud scream, I walked against a tree and lost my pair of glasses.

 

     "Where are you, bird?" I called out blindly, still hoping to get a good pinch in.  "All I can see are colors and stars."

 

     "I'm over here," cooed the bird sweetly, "between the crocodile, and the land mine, right next to the bottomless pit."

 

     "Then I'll try to fly, because my head is so light, it will give me wings; and I'll try to land on the back of the crocodile,"  I replied.

 

     It was about then that the crocodile rolled over, making it impossible for me to land on its back, so I began to flap my ears to fly, but just couldn't get off the ground for some reason.

 

     Then I felt my wings growing on my shoulder blades, the place where they used to be in the old times.  Unfortunately, being old-style wings, they were not very technologically advanced, nor aerodynamic, and still had a few of the old bugs in their design, such as the one that tended to make them fly me upside-down and in left-hand circles.  The crocodile was smiling at me, and as I felt my head becoming a little clear, I knew I had to find myself a way out of there.

 

     It was then that I saw a little beer bottle with a lable that said "Drink Me", and thinking that, like Alice in Wonderland it might make me big as a house so I wouldn't have to fear the crocodile, I drank it.  And then a perfect person arose in front of me, my heart started beating faster, and my breath was paused.

 

     Yes, the person was perfect, in all things but one;  everything she said was a lie.  Or was she a he?  It was so confusing; the words of the person invited me to come into the water.

 

     "You lie, there is no water," I screamed, "There is only beer!   I hate beer, please don't do this, and I'll do anything you wish."

 

     "Anything, including giving up beer, which I know you love more dearly than life itself?" replied the he/she person.

 

     "Oh yes, I'll do that," I answered, but thinking of the lies of the person, I was lying as well.  Actually, my blood was 80% beer now, and if I stopped drinking, I knew I would turn into a descicated frog in some museum display; so I told the he/she person that I would stop, but only if he/she would let me pinch the huge red bird which was still sitting on the branch, dreaming all of this, since my head was still hurting, and I couldn't possibly be dreaming it.

 

     OK, then the beer disappeared, but instead whiskey filled the pond and the big bird was out of its mind, screaming, "How I love this, how I love this," as it landed on my head.  The bird was very heavy, and it pooped all over my back in its excitement, as I reached to give it a good pinch and wake it up from this alcoholic nightmare that I wasn't sure which of us was having.  I avoided the stinking dirt and pinched the big bird in its belly; the skin was rough, but I succeeded. 

 

     The bird squawked loudly, and awoke from its dream, but I immediately fell into the dream of another creature, instead, one with two heads that couldn't stop arguing between themselves.  I closed my ears with my fingers, but I still could hear him talk loudly and answer crazy questions like, "Where did you get the lemon juice, from the secret source?"

 

     It was then that I realized, if there was a secret source of lemon juice, and if I could control it, mixing it with beer perhaps, I might become rich and be able to buy my way out of these crazy dreams and into a more idyllic future.   So, I started talking with honey in my voice, "Dear friends, I like your beautiful faces, and did you become so beautiful by drinking lemon juice?  Perhaps, I can help you to find the source."

 

     Flattered by being called beautiful, and duped by being called friends, one head told me, "We don't need your help, thanks, because we already know where the source is," and the other head said, "Yeah, you just have to go down that street and enter the third house on the right."

 

     "Oh, thank you," I replied, "but I don't want to disturb you, so I'll walk with you to be sure I am in good company and I'll take care of you both."   So it was that all three of us (or both of us, depending on how you count them) entered the third house on the right, just down the street, a lemon yellow house, with lemon trees in the front yard, and a fountain full of yellow liquid.    "Hahahahahaha," I was laughing out loud, thinking of my fortune from mixing the lemon juice with beer, and wondering if I could transport it by making a canal.   I would need the services of a civil engineer, I decided, to design the canal, and a bulldozer to help me dig it.

 

     "Where do I find these two things," I spoke out loud.  "What two things?" one of the heads asked me.  "A civil engineer who can make a plan for a canal, so I can become rich by transporting and selling the lemon juice."    "No way," the other head said", and they started talking together again.

 

     I could see that the two were plotting against me to protect their secret source of lemon juice from commercial exploitation, so I put a paper bag over their heads and spun them around to make them dizzy while I stole what lemon juice I could and made my escape.

 

     I wanted to run and find a way to get out of this, so I could analize the lemon juice at home.   I had a sneaky suspicion that it might contain a wonder drug that could cure cancer and AIDS, and thereby make me famous, as well as wealthy.   And because of the beer I wanted to mix with it, users would become alcoholics, so I could open my own clinic to treat them.

 

     It was then that a sneaky leg from yet another person's dream stretched out in front of me, making me trip and fall head first into a huge vat of chicken livers being slowly cooked over a large fire.   The smell of cooking livers and sweet lemon made me so sick, I puked my stomach out.   That, in turn, made the pot overflow and extinguish the fire, so I climbed out and continued down the road, bedraggled and smelling a little odd, but otherwise OK.

 

     The fresh air of the trees made my head clear and I realized that I had been in a drunken nightmare.   I could still hear loud party music in the distance, and I decided to make a bee line back to the beer cooler, which was softly calling my name. 

 

                                                                                             THE END