|| -------- -- -----  A E R I E   O B L I V I A N A . singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora ------------------- ----------- THE CARBONIZE NEIGHBOR--CUP 2--"I AM DRAMPTICA" <-------  ||  Severe Repair  ||  The Carbonize Neighbor  ||  -------> (Cup SRcn002, Created v2 (6/7/99), Copyright 1999) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Granticaine clicked his remote and shut off the TV. The words Emmerdine had spoken to him--the words of a man who knew he'd be dead in seconds, were "Strip mine the blue hill in True, god." His tone had been almost mocking, challenging. Grant wasn't sure why, but he'd lied about what those words were. He told the press and his superiors that the enemy President had said simply, "My family is no part of this--do not punish them." And oddly enough, this lie almost certainly saved the life of Emmerdine's son, a military leader. "Oh, again Grant!" said one of the naked girls at either side of the war hero. "Yeah man, it really turns me on, to see you savage--so savage like that!" the other said. "I was a different person." Grant said. "I can't imagine doing that now." He was eager to discuss the matter, as the whole episode was so disturbing to him. "How did you--y'know--like rip that guy in half like that?" the girl to his left asked. "I--I had my knee to his lower abdomen, and I pushed in with my leg as I lifted him up--I did it very quickly." He paused. "It seemed like the thing to do at the time." "Hey, we were already like, beginning to accept our defeat when your campaign began. We were all watching. Everyone was watching. You were THE only hope. And a guy like Emmerdine--the only safe way to deal with him is to kill him. You ARE Dramptica, dude!." "I am Dramptica." Granticaine repeated thoughtfully. "My brothers were killed in the war. When you killed him, I felt good. You did what everyone would have loved to do. And when you looked at him--after you ripped him in half, and saw that fucking face of his still there you splattered it into nowhere." "I felt that he wouldn't really be dead until his face was demolished. As I said, I wasn't myself." He'd met the girls at a party. He'd been in a hotel, in bed with them, for over a day-and-a-half. It was a wild little orgy, and the most amazing sexual experience Grant had ever enjoyed. But the menage-a-trois and the repeated viewings of his bloody campaign started to make Grant feel very dark and very powerful. At the same time he realized that he was very uncomfortable with all of this--at least at some level. And the thing Emmerdine whispered to him. "Strip mine the blue hill in True, god." Emmerdine had said it as if he were calling Grant "god". And he was saying it with contempt, as if he were challenging Grant. Just then, the phone next to the bed rang, and Grant answered. "Hello?" Immediately, a voice like that of a documentary narrator said "There's a machine out there which just might change your life. If the phrase 'it's your lucky day' has been overused in your life, no more. Again Jake, this is very--" The voice cut off, and there was what felt like a dump truck slamming into the side of the hotel--and all of a sudden the darkness of night outside was replaced by a sunny mid-afternoon. Grant moved the phone away from his ear and looked down at his companions--the one to his left was looking up dreamily at him, but she was different. A quick glance to the right revealed the other girl, also changed--apparently an identical twin to the one on his left. Both stared at him with a dreamy expression. Grant forced himself to remain calm. "What madness is this?" he asked, leaning forward cautiously, feeling the same surge of supernatural force flow through him as he had felt during the end of the war. The naked individuals on either side of him didn't move, but continued to stare. Then, he saw a twinkle of intent in the eyes of the clone to his right, and before she even began to move, Grant propelled himself backward with tremendous force, demolishing the wall behind the bed, and thrusting his body halfway into the next room. He pulled himself through the hole the rest of the way and got himself into a tentative crouch, blinking and spitting dust and debris from his lips, wishing he had some clothes on. He looked around to see if there was anyone in this suite, but he saw no one. He felt confused and noticeably dizzy as he cursed the vulnerability of his nakedness. But there was something so--wrong--about the phone call and the twin strangers. And it was definitely the middle of the night, not daytime. He stood up, ripped the sheets off the freshly made bed of this new room, and opened the door to the hallway. Immediately, he noticed that the hallway was wider than it had been before--about twice so. With the sheets draped around his massive form, Grant set off for where he remembered the stairs had been. -------> ------------------- ----------- -------- -- -----