2.11: Triple G: If I Drink I Will Cry Out!

2.11: Triple G: If I Drink I Will Cry Out!

Trip weaved and swayed through the shanties and shacks. Stinging bugs tickled in his beard.

“Profundits and pundits abound! The lard is risen indeed! Rain ye knowledge ‘pon the ignant! All the girls is weeping in the corner… Fleecing hell… Her life is shit, but not as shit as mine.”

Sheldy Higgs saw Trip stumbling sort of towards her spot and called to him.

“Hey! Triple Threat! Come on! Got some meat here!”

Trip stopped so fast he almost fell over, but managed to right himself like a drunken master. For good measure he aimed a roundhouse kick at a gnat-like insect, but he missed and ended up facing away from Sheldy. Then, because fate can be fickle, he forgot about the last few seconds and continued in the direction he was heading.

Sheldy Higgs was laughing in a wheezy manner at Trip’s antics. When she saw that he had forgotten her, she called to him again.

“Trip! You old scooter! Get yer pads over here and eat!”

Trip heard the words and straightened up. He took several slow breaths and cracked his knuckles loudly. He made a disgusted face and held up two middle fingers right at you, gentle reader, for no real reason. He then executed a spiraling spin maneuver that brought him right to the edge of the space that Sheldy considered hers.

“Were you addressing me Madame?”

“Sit your venter down before you break yer bones you old jar.”

Sheldy was skinny and leathery, but she still had most of her teeth and no noticeable lesions or mangy spots on her blond head. She could still pass for a borger if she had better clothes.

Trip made a move to doff his hat to the lady, but there was nothing but large dread mats where a hat could be. He acted affronted to find no hat to grab and viciously inspected his own feet for a few moments before inhaling deeply and sitting down hard on the ground near Sheldy’s cooking pit. He rotated onto his back setting his legs straight up in the air for a moment, before, in a moment of rare grace, allowing himself to pendulum back to a sitting position while holding a fist full of small yellow flowers he had accidentally grabbed while on his back. He noticed the flowers at the same instant as Sheldy, but his reflexes were faster and he grinned lecherously.

“Here ya go pretty lady! I brung ya some posies!”

Sheldy knew all his tricks, but she took the weeds from him with a crooked grin.

“You stink Trip.”

“Yes. Yes indeed I do.”

Sheldy used some old iron spikes to spear and cut a piece of the brown lump on her cooker for Trip, and she ladled some reddish liquid into a cup for him.

“Meat and vita juice. Everyone eats on Wensdey!”

“Iss’t Wensdey? I have an appointment! A important meeting!

“I don’t know what day it is Trip! Just making noise.”

“Well then. Noise it is,” he reached out and took the platter and grail.

Trip held the meat plate up to his nose, mashing the juice on the plate into his beard. He took a big old wheezy sniff of it.

“Ahhhhhh manooway Sheldy. This is too kind of you. God will probly punish you for feeding me like this.” He winked at her and opened his mouth wide and tore into the meat.

Sheldy pulled out a large bottle of Space Whisky, only half empty.

Trip sighed with happiness at the sight. His diction improved drastically.

“I have tried more drugs than any man or god, but they never did really improve on the classics, did they?”

Sheldy took a big pull of the whisky and handed it over. Trip took a long swig and closed his eyes.

“Remember when we were kids and they tried to foist that hangover free shit on us? That was terrible man.”

Sheldy squinted at him, “Fid scat Trip! How old do you think I am?”

“Ehhhh. All you birds run together after a while.”

“None taken.”

“What?”

“Gimmie that.”

A few minutes later, there was only a small amount of the whisky left and Sheldy topped it and put it under a pile of clothes behind her. They sat quiet for a while. Some barely functioning bug killer bots swarmed past them leaving a strong smell of ozone in their wake. Sheldy looked sideways at Trip.

“You seen the vids? Those kids… Elvis’s crew. They good and vented yah?”

“I saw them taken. Exciting stuff. Hate to see Zombie Grrrl get roughed up though. Think some of them got away.”

“Elvis made this place better, gonna be more slavers soon. You watch.”

“Maybe they vent the sphere soon, maybe be a bunch of slavers here when they do.”

“Hush up! Poison talk!”

Trip shifted his weight to take pressure off his hemorrhoids.

“This ain’t no natural state girl. This giant tin can floating in space. Humankind shoulda died when it’s time came. This all borrowed and stolen time. This should be brave future of equality and science, but you see what we get.”

Sheldy moved her face closer to him and pushed her hair out of her face.

“Trip, you old freak. You think I called you here for philosophizing?”

“Vent. You girls all do run together.”

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