Monty Breakfast was just watching t v and smoking a couple herbal cigarettes on the evening of his day off. Not a care in the world, just the mild sleepy buzz of this internet ordered sim buzz ciggy. He watched a re-run of a old seventy's fishing show, cast that reel, reel em in. Monty felt nearly content, about as close as he gets nowadays without vomiting as a result of the journey. It was Monty's day off, so he squeezed every bit of sleep he could from his perma-stuasted body, like wringing a wet towel of all the water you can. He slept nine and a half hours, the most sleep he had gotten since 2003. He got on the internet to check the news. This summer's trendy teen prank is flea bombs. This is a package full of living fleas. You open it in someone's house or car, loads of laffs.
Maggie Almond watched the live performance of Justin Timberlake, Orlando and Dawn. He rubbed her crotch wildly as the show progressed. She could sure use a man up her right now, a rich handsome man. Do to a wardrobe malfunction, the entire band and all five singers are completely naked now, feeling each other's feelables. Mag came violently while speaking in tongues. Red lights flashed in her closed eyes, a feeling of something vast and ancient opening up with a wind that carry's a flower scent unsmelt for thousands of years. It's o k for girls to masturbate, just like it's o k for girls to kiss each other and make out. Maggie didn't go for all that hot bi-sexual girl scene, it was just too trendy nowadays. Maggie had secret plans however, to take over the world through lucid dreaming.
Drack Bentsome hated Monty Breakfast with every fiber of his spiteful but pretty being.
Monty clicked his mouse across that endless internet. Like Columbus of old, but without the rapid racism and vile penis festers. Out discovering the endless worlds of the information highway.
Drack went to collage for five years after high school. He only needed four years, but the last was just to hold onto that sweet golden fuck filled time. Now he was a manager at SuperBrush, a three story store with a good view over central north Wichita and the hills beyond. Now he felt that nasty ball of hate throb inside his stomach, where is soul also resided, but less obviously. This fucking piece of nothing, Monty Breakfast has really pissed on his personal parade. For one thing, Drack had always been the admired one, the one the girls wanted to sleep with, the one who's opinions everyone would lend an ear to. He was always the one that everyone would want to sit with. Why not? He was handsome, and he had lots of money and self confidence, all the things that made a man valuable. There has been only a very small handful of people ever to upset this status of privilege he has enjoyed. Now a low rent shaved head bastard with a crescent moon ear ring is changing all that, the fucker!
Maggie had seven hundred entry s in her dream journal, and she was adding an average of four more per week.
Missy Orange studied the pictures she had taken with her digital camera. She had taken a long series of pics with this new camera, she went through the images on her twenty one inch flat screen monitor. She had just happened to take a random traffic shot that had a clear picture of Monty Breakfast, and something inside of her stirred. She studied the picture in excitement, something about this man was drawing her like a magnet, she knew she must find him. She had some visual information to help her out. She printed his face into a four by six photo realism page. She noted his vehicle, a brown 78 mustang with one yellow fender and a mostly eaten away black leather top. She knew that she had taken that pic at West street and Noddleapple. So she had a place to begin her stalking, she noted that she took that picture at five p m. She decided to smoke a couple hits of that marijuana that she kept in the fridge and indulged in about thrice a month. She felt warm and tingly and mystical as she got behind the wheel of her nice car and she drove around the area she had taken the picture, looking for that car. No luck on her first go, she drove around for twenty minutes, not seeing that mustang anywhere, she would just sorta broaden the circle on her next go and see if she has any better luck. The city was only so big, if she keeps him in mind every time she is out than it should only be a matter of time before she finds him, then what? That will all depend on the moment. She looked at Monty's picture again on her screen while she fingered her thing.
Maggie began researching dreams, she checked out some books about it from the library, and she would read them on her lunch break at work, and before bed each night. She began wrapping her mind around ideas like dream shareing, dream induction, and dream magic.
Monty spent most of his time cruising the web, a personal obsession of his, a spiritual awaking of sorts. He could see the afterlife being like this, a aimless wander throughout all eternity threw fields of raw information. Maybe that's one of the new things the dead do. Cruise the web, maybe the internet is becoming haunted. Monty put a small pile of Kanna onto his hand and he snorted it up one happy nostril. He gasped with pleasure, throwing his head back, eyes closed into slits. He repeated this two more times. He grinned to himself as he clicked onto the next website. Monty checked the clock, ten P M, well, I had better get some of that sleep, got to be at work at seven a m, Monty thought sadly.
Missy took a long shower with the radio playing classical music, as preformed by an orchestra of harmonicas, kazoos, and slide whistles.
Maggie had a dream about her big sister Nadia. She used to play rock records in the woods behind they're house when they were children.
Missy Orange's last concert experience was radiohead/Beck back in two thousand. She smoked a lot of cannabis that night, she smuggled in a small jay, and many were being passed all around her.
Monty dreams of rain, of the old decrepit cheap house he lived in back in 2002. The place in his dream was in far worst shape, the floor boards nearly ready to give way and plunge the unfortunate walker into the flooded basement. A driving rain, threatening to break through the windows and flood into the house.
So there is Nebby Fletcher being hexed by his ex. She first made a voodoo penis useng some of his pubic hairs that she had gathered when they were still going out. She would fuck him remotely to orgasm is inconvenient places. She then began to apply sticky agents to the voodoo penis, and Nebby got so sticky in the shaft that he couldn't get any good friction. stuff would stick to it, no matter how how he washed it. Sex was impossible, it sticks to the vaginal walls, Condoms are just too frustrating to try to work on, he loses his Woodrow in the long painful attempt. wilted sticky penis godammit, what has he done to deserve this? Nebby oh Nebby hast it come to thus?
Drack thinks back on the most recent situation with Monty Breakfast where things didn't turn out well. Eight a m smoke break. The usual crowd of smokers there, including that Breakfast bastard. He brought couple of hand rolled cigar sized ciggies with tobacco and other herbs that gave it a strange aromatic scent when smoked. Drack had a expensive cigar, he smokes cheaper ones at home, but he spends more for the work ones to impress. Everyone was asking questions about Monty's smoke of the day, this one had blue lotus, wild dagga, an just a sprinkle of powered henbane. So the fools lost interest in Drack's cigar, and they talked about Monty's ciggie instead, those stupid fuckers!
Chambers the cat licked his fur clean outside of Monty's door while waiting for him to return from work. Then Monty would let Chambers in, pet him, call him a good cat , and probaly even give him something to eat, and Chambers was always hungry. Chambers lay curled up there, going in and out of dream filled sleep. In his dreams he was eating fried chicken, licking warm beef soup, lapping up running oatmeal, Chambers always had cool dreams it seems. Once Chambers dreamed he had an extra set of legs and he could catch and toy with up to three mice at a time, what a dream!
Chambers lay sleeping again shortly after that, he got up, moved into the kitchen, jumped up onto a chair and fell asleep again, with a happyness humans could not understand, unless really high.
Drack has had a bad weekend, he lost his whole paycheck at the dog track. Out of beer and food till friday, Drack had seventeen dollers to last five days, includeing gasoline, he was on the edge and no beer went meaner temper. He had already bummed cash off a small handfull of co-workers enough times without paying them back ever to make the crew relunctant to loan him anything more. Don't those assholes know that can I borrow means can I have in a polite way? What's to do? It was then that Drack remembered that Monty often keeps a few cupcakes, or maybe a jumbo twinkie in his car, he also locks it, but a brick could fix that problem. Now he was just waying his options at this point...Drack lit his last cigar, a vanilla and roasted peanut affair, with a long moist slow burn and delicous taste and smell. Each hit off the cigar he took he imagined that it was someting delicious that he was eating, it helped get him through another work day. Drack drove his flash car home. That was the last of the gasoline till payday godammit. That freak Monty Breakfast often could be seen walking to work, it taints Drack's ego to have to do the same.
So there in the sevententh chair is Mack Devoc. He sells drugs, and porn movies, and software that he has downloaded off of the internet. He has a decent liveing going on and he gets to meet lots of girls in his very own home. He also works part time at the superBrush store on Mugmump and Cheese street. A brand new shiney building full of goodies for one and all.
A large box arrived via u p s for Maggy Almond. She signed for it and the postal man left it they're on her front doorstep. She carryed it into her house and she slit open the box with a cruelly sharp exacto knife. She pulled away from the packing material a quarter pound bag of dream herb. This is the plant she had read about on the internet, it was supposed to increase dream recall and assist lucid dreaming. So far she has had only a few lucid dreams, all of them while she was in grade school. Her plan, to make a cup of tea tonight before bed, dreamherb tea. She read up on her books on lucid dreaming during her quiet evening after work. At nine p m she decided to brew that tea, tomorrow she planned to go buy some cigerette papers, and learn how to roll the herb up.
Again MIssy Orange was driveing her car, looking for our Monty Breakfast. Where are you Monty?