Drugged Monkey 8
We wear short shorts.
The vodka must've been laced with alcohol. They talked about personal journal entries debating capitalism versus socialism. I didn't tell them that my journal entries were about ice cream sandwiches. I just nodded and dreamt about that illusive (a hard to obtain sickness) or was it a loose siv (the bane of the miners existence) or elusive (I'm just throwing stones at old ladies by this point) caramel topped Indonesian child that lives under the manhole lids.
His adventures were footloose and fancy-free. I hoped that someday they would be able to correctly reattach his foot, but given that he lived under the road I figured he might not have the proper funding. He came from the future with 8 dollars and 37 cents. I came from the past with baggage and a spare set of keys. The keys opened things like doors and other doors. I didn't have the keys to much else. I spoke in circles and my thoughts traveled in rectangles. The two rarely met. When they did I played Domino Rally with the parts of the people I'd removed at the mortuary. So few viewings have an entirely open casket. I can't even begin to tell you how many sets of legs I have. I have a wherehouse (not sure of it's location) filled with them. I dance around with a mop and sing that song: "He's got leeeeegs... he knows how to use them". Only I really don't know how to use them, but the song is just so catchy.
Once I got arrested for singing that song in a church during the first inning while the mass cot (a very large portable bed) did cartwheels for peanuts. If I could do cartwheels I wouldn't squander them on peanuts. I'd save them for special occasions like weddings and any time a celebrity did anything. I'd maybe do a cartwheel at the check stand if I got a really good discount or the checker forgot to scan something and put it in the bag for free. Although clearing space can be a problem. Old ladies with fistfuls of coupons frown on that sort of behavior in public, but break their hips emulating it in private.
What if there was a super hero action figure grandma whose secret power was that she could break her hip whenever she wanted? We'd tune in each week to watch her do stuff and mangle that hip for audiences. It could be a book, a movie, an origami racecar set, and an alternative pumpkin filling. That poor caramel topped Indonesian boy would never know the splendor of the action figure grandma. Maybe it's best she doesn't exist. After all he was fancy-free and that grandma would've been all kinds of fancy. The execs would've made sure of it. Maybe they'd stretch her face over the bones to make her more fancy than Jesus. Not more fancy than Jesus post spaceship travel and dinosaur discovery, but maybe more fancy than Jesus pre number one single and celebrity teen scandal. I love a good scandal. I imagine they'll be a big one when they find those legs.