Write A Story

[Paddington]

So...yea....like it can't be Thanksgiving unless it's really Thanksgiving.
It can't be night unless it is really night.
It can't be the year 2009 unless it is really the year 2009.
Yea...

[icelandic_iceskater]

[i]"on the 18th of april in '75..."[/i]

[Paddington]

Somebody was put in a coma by way of bludgeoning....and on the 25th of November, 2008, he woke up. At about 7:30pm. He was alone in a cold, secret government hospital. Nobody was in sight, but there were robots zooming down the hallway. All he could hear was the faint sound of the janitor's radio down the hallway. The Savage Nation was playing and Mr. Coma Man became very, very paranoid.

[Paddington]

Fifteen minutes passed and Mr. Coma Man remembered his name - Jack Tripper. All Jack had the energy for was to crawl to the door and peek out into the hallway. Then he collapsed.

[fides quarens intellectum]

At 6pm, he - oh, wait

[jeffpugh]

He woke up a day later, roughly thirty minutes before noon. He was back in his bed. Someone had attended to him. Suddenly, a nurse came in the room.

"Ah, you are conscious again, Mr. Tripper," she remarked as she scribbled on her clipboard. "We have been amazed at your miraculous recovery."

She went on to explain.

[Paddington]

Jack asked her, "you've been explaining for like 1.5 hours already, and I get the thing about the aliens. Could you just leave already?"

Nurse Sally said, "sure, but don't forget to ring when your waste bags are full. And, don't even think about escaping. Or we will kill you, and you will miss our Thanksgiving feast tomorrow. We're serving Rice Krispie treats!"

[jeffpugh]

"... rice crispy treats..." Jack continually repeated to himself, long after the nurse had left... he had to think of a way out, but he had to buy his time. Lots of waiting was his plan...

[T-Bone _]

"I hate Rice Crispy Treats," Jack remembered, then began gnawing his arms off so he could release himself from the strait-jacket...

[Paddington]

Jack wakes up with a sore mouth and blood-crusted shoulder, washes it with a moist towelette and rings Sally for bag-service.

Sally comes in with her supply cart, and gets to cleaning. She kisses Jack on the forehead and leaves a plate of home-made Krispie treats and glass of Hawaiian Punch.

He is surprised to like the taste, and thinks about how taste buds change with time.
"Tomorrow's banquet is sounding swell," he thinks.

From the other side of the room and behind a curtain he had yet to notice is groaning and sobbing. Jack waddles like a drunk duck, pulls back the curtain, and sees his shy roommate suffering and spitting. "That kinda looks like.......Elvis!!!!???? I mean, if he lost 175 lbs. Ewww..."

Edited November 26, 2008 by Paddington

[Paddington]

Jack wakes up at 1:55 pm on Thanksgiving, leans over, falls out of bed on his shoulder and tries to yell for help, but his voice box cann't manage more than a whisper.

He crawls army style to Elvis' bed and finds his roommate to be not there.

Sally comes in and scolds Jack. She hoists him onto the bed while injuring both of their backs. Jack asks where Elvis went and when the Krispie-feast was to begin. Sally gives him a dirty look and warns him to stop snooping around. She walks out in a hussy.

Jack yells, with his full voice, "when are we having Krispies?!"

Sally turns around and tells him that he missed the food, folks and fun. She slams the door.
Jack notices that his bags are full and sighs.

[Paddington]

Jack is feeling as low as he can go about now, but the right-wing radio loving janitor comes by just in time to change his bags, give him a plate of Krispie Treats and sodas, and, most importantly, a warm smile with head-pat.

"I'm Charlie, but you can call me Chuck. Now, if you need anything, and I mean anything, just let me know, and there's a good chance that I will help you out - at least partially," says the scruffy janitor with keys jingling.

"Where did Elvis go? And what's Sally's problem? Where am I?" asks Jack.

"Now we gotta be hush-hush about some things," says Chuck. "But, we will have more of these conversations. And, be assured, that I have the keys to the snack closet."

Chuck leaves, but not before he turns around to give Jack a Santa-wink.

Jack eats.

[jeffpugh]

Long after eating, he spends much time in meditation on all of these small events that have occurred. Elvis. The janitor who is like the garbage man from Dilbert, the snack closet...

"anything," he muses.

[Paddington]

He wakes up at 8:35am to Sally softly stroking his greasy, unkempt hair. She moves in for the kiss. Jack kisses his way out of the kiss.

"I don't know Sally," says Jack. "On the one hand, you're the only chick I know, you dig me and I have a thing for nurses, but, on the other hand, you really creep me out. And, plus, I'm going through some things right now, like learning to walk again, and sleeping 20+ hours a day. I think we'd better slow down. And, by 'slow down,' I mean there's nothing there."

Sally straightens and collects herself, fighting back tears. "If I tell you what they did with Elvis, will you agree to a date?"

"Yea, and geesh I was starting to think there was no Elvis," says Jack.

Sally looks paranoid and tells Jack that she left treats in the drawer. She leaves.

[jeffpugh]

After a long while she comes back. Jack was sleeping. She comes in at 23:00 all hush-hush.

"Listen," she whispers. "I'm not supposed to say this, but Elvis faked his death. It was all a sham. He really finished a bottle of placebo. After rushing him to the "morgue", they slipped him in a limo and drove off. He ended up here, and now he lives his life in seclusion, entertaining the patients who come in here."

"Where is here?" Jack insisted. "No one has given me a straight answer... not even the janitor..."

"Don't listen to the janitor... he's insane like the rest of us. I can't tell you where you are now. I have neither the imagination to break it to you, or the time. Now kiss me."

"What?"

"Kiss me."

She stares blankly at him, then makes a move. Before Jack knew it, she smooched him, and he fell into a deep sleep.