by Timothy

I put a napkin to my mouth. I thought I was going to bring up my $5.95 Luncheon Special. The man sitting next to me; his face started to melt into his chicken soup. His eyes, nose and lips oozed down in wet, glistening threads of twisted flesh and veins. He made a strange moaning sound and began to turn toward me. As he turned, the threads of gnarled flesh turned with him while the rest of his face remained melting in the soup. “nuts!” I said as I got up from my stool and staggered out of the restaurant.

Once out on the busy city sidewalk, I took in deep breaths of air. “WHAM!” was the sound as a gigantic leg came smashing down in front of me. And that is all it was. A single leg with a single white sneaker over its single foot. Looking up the hairy leg, I saw near the top a pair of exaggerated looking pair of lips. They appeared thick and extra red like the type you see on clowns. Above the lips, a rather flattened nose and above two huge blue eyes that appeared melded together.

The leg titled slightly as it said, “Sorry old chap. Didn’t see you down there. Tah, tah.” and it hobbled off.

I continued down the sidewalk My stomach was finally beginning to settle down after the incident in the restaurant. Nearing the curb, a man with a brown paper bag was leaning over gagging. “You ok?” I asked.

“Swallowed my pal. Trying, (gag) to bring him up.”

I was anxious and filled with many questions, however, the traumatic tension of the present left no time for time consuming questionings. I could imagine the horror of his pal in the dark, hot bubbling cauldron of acids ready to dissolve his body down into useable proteins. The hopelessness must have been overwhelming. I looked into the man’s bag and saw a bottle of vinegar. I hope this would suffice. Opening the bottle, I poured it over my right hand. “Ok, let me in there,” I told him not looking forward to this. I just figured if it was me in the belly, I would hope someone would want to help and keep me from slowly dissolving away.

I placed my hand as far as I could down his throat trying to force an automatic muscle reflex response. He started gagging and having deep spasms.. Removing my hand, the man vomited. Near his left foot, in a rank and steaming pool of bile was a squirming figure. Taking my handkerchief; trying to keep my own stomach down, picked up the tiny person. I wiped him off and poured a plastic bottle of water the man had all over the tiny figure.

Taking his tiny pal from me, the man said, “Oh my poor Lolo.”

“How did this happen?”

The man holding his tiny pal between several fingers, “I had something stuck between my teeth. He said he could go in and pull it out. As he moved on my tongue, he slipped and slid down my throat.”

Seeing the tiny man was well, at least physically, I went on my way. “Not the best of Tuesday mornings,” I thought. A nice walk in the nearby common I figured was in order. Lovely pink tongues graced this common. As I walked among the gently swaying four foot tall tongues, I ran my hands over the smooth wet tips. Most satisfying and peaceful.

As I continued to stroll, I thought with some apprehension about my up coming high school reunion. I really had no great desire to attend. A few of my past friends in e-mails insisted I should come. The reunion was to take place at the high school. The high school I attended you see. I mean the building I had actually roamed the halls in. The reunion was going to take place at noontime today. Reflecting more on the reunion, I thought it might be fun to see the gang I use to hang with.

The reunion was at the other end of the city. I went to the underground to take a trolley that would bring to a stop not for from my destination of reminisces. Waiting for the subway, I saw a group of Transpigeons. It was a new fad. Many teens and adults were getting pigeon DNA injections. They wore their hair up in black and red stripped cones. They moved in unison with the other. Their hooting sounds were starting to get on my nerves. Also my neck was aching just from watching the strange jerking motions they made with their heads. A chiropractor seeing future patients and money for his pocket, went and gave these bird brains his card. Hey, bird brain. That was a funny witticism I made!

When the car came to a teeth rattling, ear piecing stop, I stepped in. I sat down on a worn orange seat. The car was full. As the trolley ran along its tracks through the tunnel, I began to hear a metallic kind of sound. Something close to the sound of bending metal. The temperature of the car began to rise. And the air became humid. The high humidity and stifling heat was making me drowsy. Trying to keep my eyes opened, I saw a whitish fluid engulfing several passengers. I too felt a thick warm substance beginning to ooze down on top of me. Getting out of my seat, I slipped on the floor that had become wet. It started to undulate. The floor began forming into two thick, gray colored coils. My right foot was starting to sink in-between one. Several passengers who had been standing were sinking into the wet, now pulsating floor. A strong pungent odor began to fill the car. The scent to my embattled senses, reminded me of the smell of bile “My Lord!” I shouted out loud. The trolley was trying to digest us!

Trying to stay alert, I crawled over the hot, sticky coils trying not to get trapped in-between them. Nearing the end of the car, I saw the emergency stop lever. With shaking hands, I reached for it before it eroded from the digestive acids. Pulling down on the lever, the trolley came to a halting stop. The side door open halfway. The rush of cool, damp air of the tunnel disposed of the noxious miasma of the half digested passengers. Only a few of us escaped that trolley car of perversion. The rest, half eaten corpses.

The three of us staggering along the tunnel’s edge headed for the glow of purity from a beam of light streaming through a manhole cover. We did, to our sickening hearts, heard the trolley give out one loud, nauseating burp.

Pushing up and aside the manhole cover, we returned to the safety of the surface. Our clothing were in bad repair due to the corrosiveness of the acids. Having no time to change, I would have to go as is to my high school reunion.