Meanwhile, back at the hospital, the two strangers who crashed into the clock tower on old city hall had just arrived…
Having waited for some time in the oubliet where the families of patients were abandoned, I decided to sing some more tunes to my fellow inmates. Numerous professionals of the hospital attempted to crush my burgeoning musical spirit, but I was resolute. I flashed my index finger and told them that they didn’t own me, that I was my own man, that I could do what I liked, and that I was a being composed of elements no heavier than iron. They were aware of all those facts, they told me, and wanted to see me in private. This was good news. I had probably won a prize.
I walked with two large men, both named Security Man (as far as i was concerned) to a small enclave near the emergency entrance of the hospital. I knew i recognized this hospital, i’d seen it before. THe torpidscraller I was using to track down my victims had it displayed on the packaging actually, as an indication of the kind of flashy memory you might be able to read if only you purchased this brand of torpidscraller.
There, at the entrance, I was enthroned in a regal chair with stately handcuffs attached to an imperious metal clasp. Restrained in grandeur befitting my status, I was again abandoned by lesser primitives of this backward world to consider my own nutrients in private. Good old Glucose, master of the blood.
The truth was that nomatter how many nutrients I considered, (excluding ghost-calcium) I could only think about my buddy. Somewhere inside the hospital he lay, vomiting and asking for change, deep in his flashback to his time spent in hobo-nam. Ye shall be avenged, I pretended. They were probably tubing him up and down with their primitive tubes. And where was I? In some little office spot, with all the nutrients i coudl think of, just mentally enjoying the cycles and rhythms of my body (and any lady’s body too, you know what I mean?).
The waiting was killing me. I took invintory of the items i could see with my eyes wide open, visually scanning with actual real working eyes. I saw the table, the cuffs, the clasp. the clock on the wall that looked like the face of Sir Numberface, who sold me the magic cloak that let me pass through wisconsin undetected. But based on my knowledge of this time period, i knew that the security boys were probably calling the police boys. They woudl totally bust me! Nats!
This was the kind of situation where ordinarily i might give up hope, but ordinarily, I didn’t have exactly the person i was waiting for come into the room i was in, dressed as a doctor, and hugging my body and kissing my face.
“Hey, buddy, what happened to you? did they give you those new clothes?”
“Who cares about my clothes,” he replied in this room with me, “I just cant’ beelive you are here. they think you’ve vanished. i should have known you’d be okay.”
“Vanished? Vanished? OOOH NO.” It was the kind of meaningful realization that I get to have where you dont’ get to know the details until later in the book. It was that kind of realization that only happens to me, and then later, you know, you go back and say “OF COURSE”. Suffice it to say, I “magically got out of my handcuffs and zapped the guy and escaped”.
to be continued…