I couldn't
believe it. After all that we had done,
after I shared with him the true desires of
my
heart... I just couldn't believe him. As I
stood in his
living room, watching him and Tony
frantically
redress after what I took to be a lurid act
of
passion, I just couldn't take it. I spun
around and
ran out of there like I was running from the
plague.
I heard
footsteps shadowing me, it had to have
been Greg. I sped up, not wanting to see his
face.
Not wanting him to see *my* face, or the
tears
that were now streaming down it. Searing
rivers
of saline, tracing a path down my cheeks
before
finally dripping from beneath my chin. I made
quite
a few futile wipes with the back of my hand,
attempting to dry my face, but to no avail.
The
tears kept coming, like my pain. The hurt
multiplied with each stride I took, and I
didn't even
realize where I was until I almost slammed
into a
parked car.
As I tried
to regain my grounding, I could hear no
other footsteps any longer, Greg must have
given
up on me. I leaned forward on the car,
breathing
deeply and steadying myself. I remember I
looked
up for a moment, and through my tear-induced
hazy view, I could see someone approaching
me. I
didn't know if it was Greg, or possibly even
Tony,
and I didn't care. I didn't have the will to
run
anymore, so I prepared for a confrontation.
My head
was lowered when I felt the comforting
hand on my back. I was startled when I looked
up
and saw the face of someone who looked
vaguely
familiar. I couldn't place him right then,
but I
sensed something wasn't right. However, I
pushed
my intuitions aside, grateful that someone
was
offering a shoulder to cry on. I turned to
him, and
in my delusional mind, I saw a face glowing
with
warmth. I thought he was a good guy... I
didn't
know how wrong I really was.
We didn't
talk, he simply embraced me, and I
continued to blubber. After a moment or so,
he
pulled a small liquor bottle out from his
coat
pocket, and offered it to me. In the state
that I
had been in, I went against my usual judgment
and
took a long drink of the liquid. Anything to
ease the
pain... But something tasted funny in the
alcohol.
It was scotch, but there was a slightly more
chemical taste, and just when I realized what
had
happened, I passed out. I don't remember what
happened next, all I know is that some time
later, I
woke up in a place *very* far from the
parking lot
of Greg's flat.
There was
a ringing in my head and a dull
throbbing when I awoke. I was going to hold
my
forehead in my hands, except when I tried to
move,
I realized that my arms were being restrained
with
something. It took me a while to fully awake,
but
when I did, I saw that my whole body was tied
up
with leather, cords, ropes, shackles,
everything you
picture when you think of a medieval torture
chamber... or bondage movie, for that matter.
I
struggled for the better part of an hour,
without so
much as loosening the bonds when *he* came
into the room.
He strode
in, defiant and self confident. It sickened
me. However, I did finally recognize him. It
was
Ron West, the biggest fraud of a comedian I
had
ever encountered in my life, and leader of
the
pathetic Trinity of the Unfunny. I don't know
how
he came to believe that with only two other
people
he could develop an organization that would
outdo
the SOI. But that's neither here nor there.
The
bottom line was, with an unappealing balding
hairline,
and glasses that only Archie Hahn could love,
I was almost retching from my previous
actions.
He advanced, and behind him I could see
something burning. As he veered off to one
side (I
presumed he was pulling a lever, yet I heard
the
weirdest sound as he did... water gurgling) I
made
out the letters "W" and
"L" in the flames.
I could
only pray that the other SOI members
would -if not for my sake, than for the sake
of good
comedy- arrive soon to vanquish Ron West and
his
Hierarchy of unfunny cronies...
