PART SIX: "THE NIGHTMARE"
Ben awoke sometime later. All was quiet. The car was stopped. He shaded his eyes from the late afternoon sun and looked around.
"Where am I?" Ben asked himself groggily, struggling to sit up straight in the seat.
Ben looked out the car windows. He was parked in a dirt parking lot, behind the sanctuary of the church. Only three other cars were nearby and there was no one around. He must be a bit early, but he had arrived. Ben had successfully - miraculously - gotten to his destination. Now he was just sitting there staring ahead with a frozen, emotionless expression.
"I guess I should go in," he softly suggested.
"No, I don't think so," he countered.
"But I came all this way," Ben argued with himself, "I ought to at least put in an appearance."
"No!" Ben reached what he thought was a sensible conclusion, "I can't let anyone see me like this. I've got to get out of here!"
Ben backed the car up carefully and turned it around. Then he bounced roughly across the unpaved lot and turned out onto the road. He eased down on the accelerator and the humming of the tires began once again, lulling him back into total darkness.
Time passed, time that Ben was never conscious of or was able to recall later. Just as a car, when the motor conks out, will continue to coast forward, Ben proceeded into the night completely unaware of where he was, where he was going or what he was doing. His brain was shut off but his body was still moving. Nothing registered and nothing mattered. No one will ever know what happened during this time period.
Sometime later Ben's brain suddenly clicked back on. His eyes were cloudy and heavy. At first he thought he might be dreaming, but then he realized he was not. He had been caught in a black void, frozen in a cryonic state. Now he had somehow popped back into reality, as if the switch that had been thrown to shut him off had suddenly been turned back on. He sat up with some effort and ascertained that he was still in the car, but the car was not moving, and all was silent and dark.
Where am I? he thought. What am I doing? He struggled to stir himself, to regain consciousness, but his brain was scrambling all incoming information. I've got to get home quick! I've got to get out of this car!
He fumbled along the steering column. He could switch the battery on and the digital clock would light up. Then he would know what to do. Unfortunately all his hands felt in the dark was the empty ignition switch. The keys were missing.
Luckily Ben's brain was too polluted to register panic. Despite the confusing circumstances, he remained strangely calm, almost detached. He was fighting his way out of a dream, if he could just wake up! He decided to relax and sleep a while longer. Then he would know what to do. He had plenty of time. He leaned his head back against the headrest.
More empty moments went by unnoticed while Ben's breathing leveled out. As soon as he began to snore, however, he woke himself up with a snort. Slowly his brain chugged back into action and he began to re-emerge into a foggy version of reality. He stretched and looked out the windows. It must be getting late now, and he was still stuck on the side of the road. What road, he had no idea, but it looked to be a back road, a two-lane blacktop somewhere out in the country. There were no houses, no gas stations, no cars anywhere around. Just dark trees and pin-point stars above. It was eerily quiet.
Ben, what the hell have you gotten yourself into? he scolded himself. Do you have any idea where you are, how you got here or where the keys are? You idiot!
Before he got too frustrated, he decided to feel around more thoroughly, and found the keys on the floor at his feet. Just chill, he told himself, gaining confidence, Everything's under control.
Eventually locating the correct key and maneuvering it into the ignition switch, Ben felt his spirits lift, but his happiness was short-lived. The car did not respond. Nothing happened. The car was dead.
Ben's thought processes were locked up, so instead of going through a list of possible solutions to his problem, he simply sat there wondering why what was supposed to happen didn't happen. Again, was he dreaming this? Was this really happening? He couldn't be sure. So he just sat a while, wondering where he could get another drink to clear his head. He checked the glove compartment and felt under the seat just in case. He might have hidden a bottle somewhere. It wasn't implausible.
No such luck. There was no booze in this car. If he could just get to a gas station...
He cracked open the car door and the interior light came on. The brightness hurt his eyes, so he pulled it back shut. Suddenly he noticed headlights approaching in the distance and felt a tinge of fear. What if that's a cop? I'll get busted for sure! The interior light was still shining brightly. Go off, damn light! he screamed silently in his mind, Go off or they'll spot us!
Before the car got too close the light went out and Ben was engulfed in darkness once again. He slid down in his seat and held his breath as the car finally passed. Then all was safe and quiet again. And he still needed a drink. He leaned against the door and carefully clicked it open again, as if by being surreptitious he could sneak past the interior light. Of course it illuminated fully as soon as the door cleared the trigger mechanism, and Ben yanked it shut again. This time, however, before the light extinguished he happened to notice the dashboard. Suddenly the gear shift indicator came into focus and Ben realized the car was still in drive. He hadn't shifted into park!
Now his situation was remarkably funny, and he laughed at himself as he corrected the issue and started the car. He had no idea which way to go...except forward...so he pulled out of the grass and sped off down the road, planning to stop at the first place he could find that had beer for sale.
TO BE CONTINUED...
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF KEN AND BEN
PART FIVE: "DEPARTURE"
Ken awoke for the second time that day, once again into the dense fog, but this time he felt no fear. He felt no stiffness or pain. He felt nothing. His mind was not registering such details. He got up and walked across the hall and found Ben cleaning the spare room. He was dusting a bookshelf with a rag, all the contents of the shelf stacked on the floor.
"What's going on?" Ken asked hoarsely, scratching his head.
"Hey, sleepy head!" Ben addressed him affectionately, "Thought you might sleep all day!"
Ken looked at him through half-closed eyes. "What are you doing?"
"I'm doing what you needed to get done!" Ben replied, pausing from his work. "Somebody's gotta do it!"
"Oh, thanks," Ken said sleepily, "I appreciate that." He stretched and tried to force his eyes open a bit wider. "I'm sorry I keep crashing out on you. I really should've been helping."
"Don't worry about it," Ben said, lifting a shot glass to his mouth and throwing his head back. As he lowered the glass he swallowed forcefully and then coughed briefly. "I got this under control," he strained, "You can go on back to bed and rest some more. I'll be fine." He turned towards a dresser and took up a pint bottle with a black label, refilling his shot glass with the brown liquid it contained.
"Can't," Ken said tiredly, his eyelids sagging again. "I gotta be at church tonight...in like, one hour..." He sleep-walked out of the room and back across the hall.
"Church?!" Ben said with a start, holding the shot glass in front of his face but looking past it with worried eyes. Oh crap! he thought, quickly glancing at the clock, How sober can he be in one hour? He tried to process the calculations in his mind, but it frustrated him. He threw back the shot of bourbon, then set the glass and the bottle down. We're screwed! he realized, and wondered what he could do. How could he possibly pull this off?
Quickly he pulled open the drawer of the dresser where he had stashed the schnapps. I can cover the smell, he reasoned, I can cover the smell and fake my way through this. I've done it before, I can do it again. Nobody will know.
He grabbed the bottle out of the drawer and held it up. Empty. Drop...dead...empty...
That's why I started on the bourbon, he remembered vaguely, and a wave of paranoia swept over him. This is definitely not good. What am I going to do? Do I have time to go buy more schnapps? No! That won't work! Maybe some black coffee...
He spun around frantically and found Ken standing in the doorway, dressed rather sloppily for church, but obviously ready to leave. He was swaying a little, but he was awake and alive.
"We gotta go now," Ken said without emotion, his face pale and blank.
"Now?!" Ben asked in a tone of disbelief. He looked back at the clock but suddenly couldn't distinguish the numbers. How much time had just passed?
"Yes, now," Ken uttered evenly, "Time to go. It takes a while to get there."
Ben straightened up and smiled pleasantly at him. "No, no, no, my friend!" he said, approaching Ken and taking him by the shoulders. "You're in no condition to go anywhere. You better let me handle this." He began steering Ken back to bed. "I've got everything under control. You don't have to worry about a thing."
With Ken safely tucked back in the bed, Ben walked out to the car and settled in behind the wheel. He fumbled with the keys for just a moment, but recovered without incident and laughed it off to himself. He was in a superior mood. While Ken drifted back into a dreamless sleep, Ben started the car and pulled out of the driveway. Before he was out of the neighborhood Ken had fallen into a deep, soundless darkness. He would remember very little.
As Ben maneuvered through the city streets he changed lanes and made turns with graceful precision. He was calm and relaxed. His speed was perfectly normal. Nothing he did was out of the ordinary.
Soon he was zooming up the on-ramp and merging onto the highway, the roadway beginning to hum beneath the tires. There was a pleasant warmth in his belly, a steady buzz in his ears and a detached haziness to his vision. He was content in his euphoric state, a condition he referred to as "in the zone." He was one with his existence, though separated from reality. He existed in another world, one that was upside-down, but he could negotiate the right-side-up world. He could pass through with ease, drawing no attention to himself. He was an invisible intruder, maneuvering in and out of other people's lives unnoticed and unheeded. A stealth stranger to all.
Peripheral scenery was now passing by in jerky fast motion, and every ten minutes Ben's mind would register his present location with no memory of his previous progress, like snapshots of points along a journey flashing before his eyes. He maintained rock-steady composure throughout a flawless execution of forgotten action. It was a movie playing out, fast-forwarded through the boring parts and paused briefly for glances at scenes that were only momentarily important, just to check his current position in the plot. How long this continued he did not know. Soon the film began to slowly fade into white and black spots, that raging, swirling "snowstorm" that indicates the end of the presentation, that final portion of the tape that has nothing at all recorded on it.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Ken awoke for the second time that day, once again into the dense fog, but this time he felt no fear. He felt no stiffness or pain. He felt nothing. His mind was not registering such details. He got up and walked across the hall and found Ben cleaning the spare room. He was dusting a bookshelf with a rag, all the contents of the shelf stacked on the floor.
"What's going on?" Ken asked hoarsely, scratching his head.
"Hey, sleepy head!" Ben addressed him affectionately, "Thought you might sleep all day!"
Ken looked at him through half-closed eyes. "What are you doing?"
"I'm doing what you needed to get done!" Ben replied, pausing from his work. "Somebody's gotta do it!"
"Oh, thanks," Ken said sleepily, "I appreciate that." He stretched and tried to force his eyes open a bit wider. "I'm sorry I keep crashing out on you. I really should've been helping."
"Don't worry about it," Ben said, lifting a shot glass to his mouth and throwing his head back. As he lowered the glass he swallowed forcefully and then coughed briefly. "I got this under control," he strained, "You can go on back to bed and rest some more. I'll be fine." He turned towards a dresser and took up a pint bottle with a black label, refilling his shot glass with the brown liquid it contained.
"Can't," Ken said tiredly, his eyelids sagging again. "I gotta be at church tonight...in like, one hour..." He sleep-walked out of the room and back across the hall.
"Church?!" Ben said with a start, holding the shot glass in front of his face but looking past it with worried eyes. Oh crap! he thought, quickly glancing at the clock, How sober can he be in one hour? He tried to process the calculations in his mind, but it frustrated him. He threw back the shot of bourbon, then set the glass and the bottle down. We're screwed! he realized, and wondered what he could do. How could he possibly pull this off?
Quickly he pulled open the drawer of the dresser where he had stashed the schnapps. I can cover the smell, he reasoned, I can cover the smell and fake my way through this. I've done it before, I can do it again. Nobody will know.
He grabbed the bottle out of the drawer and held it up. Empty. Drop...dead...empty...
That's why I started on the bourbon, he remembered vaguely, and a wave of paranoia swept over him. This is definitely not good. What am I going to do? Do I have time to go buy more schnapps? No! That won't work! Maybe some black coffee...
He spun around frantically and found Ken standing in the doorway, dressed rather sloppily for church, but obviously ready to leave. He was swaying a little, but he was awake and alive.
"We gotta go now," Ken said without emotion, his face pale and blank.
"Now?!" Ben asked in a tone of disbelief. He looked back at the clock but suddenly couldn't distinguish the numbers. How much time had just passed?
"Yes, now," Ken uttered evenly, "Time to go. It takes a while to get there."
Ben straightened up and smiled pleasantly at him. "No, no, no, my friend!" he said, approaching Ken and taking him by the shoulders. "You're in no condition to go anywhere. You better let me handle this." He began steering Ken back to bed. "I've got everything under control. You don't have to worry about a thing."
With Ken safely tucked back in the bed, Ben walked out to the car and settled in behind the wheel. He fumbled with the keys for just a moment, but recovered without incident and laughed it off to himself. He was in a superior mood. While Ken drifted back into a dreamless sleep, Ben started the car and pulled out of the driveway. Before he was out of the neighborhood Ken had fallen into a deep, soundless darkness. He would remember very little.
As Ben maneuvered through the city streets he changed lanes and made turns with graceful precision. He was calm and relaxed. His speed was perfectly normal. Nothing he did was out of the ordinary.
Soon he was zooming up the on-ramp and merging onto the highway, the roadway beginning to hum beneath the tires. There was a pleasant warmth in his belly, a steady buzz in his ears and a detached haziness to his vision. He was content in his euphoric state, a condition he referred to as "in the zone." He was one with his existence, though separated from reality. He existed in another world, one that was upside-down, but he could negotiate the right-side-up world. He could pass through with ease, drawing no attention to himself. He was an invisible intruder, maneuvering in and out of other people's lives unnoticed and unheeded. A stealth stranger to all.
Peripheral scenery was now passing by in jerky fast motion, and every ten minutes Ben's mind would register his present location with no memory of his previous progress, like snapshots of points along a journey flashing before his eyes. He maintained rock-steady composure throughout a flawless execution of forgotten action. It was a movie playing out, fast-forwarded through the boring parts and paused briefly for glances at scenes that were only momentarily important, just to check his current position in the plot. How long this continued he did not know. Soon the film began to slowly fade into white and black spots, that raging, swirling "snowstorm" that indicates the end of the presentation, that final portion of the tape that has nothing at all recorded on it.
TO BE CONTINUED...
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF KEN AND BEN
PART THREE - "RUDE AWAKENING"
Ken's eyes opened but the fog was still thick all around him. The world was upside-down. Was he awake or was this a dream? He slowly sat up and put his feet on the floor, groaning with the stiffness and pain. The room was quiet and spinning slightly, but it was his room, and he was sitting on the edge of his bed. One look at his bedside table and he began to comprehend some of what had happened. There sat the empty bourbon bottle, the empty rum bottles, and an empty malt liquor bottle.
"Oh, God," he mumbled, his mind swimming with the cloudy memories, his body aching with regret. "Here we are again."
"You just lie back down and rest," Ben said calmly and quietly, "You're a little under the weather, but you'll feel better soon enough."
Ken looked up with squinting eyes and saw Ben was dressed and pulling on his shoes. He was going somewhere. At this early hour? Ken lifted the large beer bottle off the nightstand and held it up. "What is this?"
"That?" Ben answered casually, "That was a little nightcap I had after you fell asleep. The finishing touch to a lovely evening."
"You went back out for more?" Ken asked, a tinge of unbelief in his voice. "You drove to the store in your condition?"
"Relax," Ben assured him, "Nothing out of the ordinary. Nobody noticed a thing."
"But..." Ken started to protest.
"I was fine," Ben cut him off, gathering up his wallet and keys. "Perfectly in control. I'm not one of those klutzy amateurs, my friend, swerving all over the road..." He held up his arms with clenched fists to simulate gripping a steering wheel. "Steady as a stinkin' rock, baby. I might even drive better than you do."
"Oh, God," Ken moaned and laid back down on the bed with one hand holding his pounding head.
"Just chill for a few minutes," Ben said dismissively, "I'll be right back with reinforcements." He moved through the doorway.
"No!" Ken called to stop him. "I've got to be somewhere tonight!"
Ben stuck his head back in the room. "Exactly," he replied in agreement, "We're going to need something to get us going. Grease the cogs. Oil the hinges. Otherwise we're going to be as stiff and creaky as a rusty gate."
"God help me," Ken whimpered with anguish, "I don't want to live like this."
But Ben, singing happily to himself, was already halfway to the car.
PART FOUR - "REINFORCEMENTS"
When Ben returned from the store, Ken was at the kitchen table, staring down into a bowl of soggy cereal.
"Hey, buddy!" Ben sang out cheerfully, setting his package on the counter with a loud clink! "Whatcha eatin'?"
"Nothing," Ken mumbled slowly in response. "I feel sick. If I eat this I'm going to puke, but if I don't I'll feel worse." He continued to stare hopelessly at his untouched cereal.
"What you need is a stomach-settler," Ben advised, pulling mini-bottles out of his coat pockets and setting them on the table. "This is just the medicine you need."
Ken looked at the bottles disapprovingly. "More flavored rum," he acknowledged flatly, "Genius idea."
"Yeah, I know!" Ben replied, ignoring Ken's sarcasm. "This stuff is perfect for breakfast." He cracked open a random bottle and poured the entire contents into his mouth. He paused with a grimace, then swallowed hard. "Oh yeah!" he exclaimed with a forceful exhale reeking of sweet-smelling alcohol, "That's the ticket!" He moved his head and shoulders around to loosen up. Then he examined the selection in his hand and commented authoritatively, "The cherry blend is exceptionally tasty." He looked for a reaction from Ken but got nothing. "Dude, it's only like sixty proof. What's the harm in a little pick-me-up?"
"Because," Ken said angrily, getting up from the table, "I've got to be somewhere tonight!"
"Okay, okay!" Ben put up his hands in defense. "I know, I know!" He retreated to the kitchen counter and reached into his package. "That's why I got this!" He pulled out a bottle of clear liquid.
Ken dumped his uneaten cereal into the sink and turned to face him. "What is that?"
"Peppermint schnapps!" Ben announced proudly, holding the bottle like a game show assistant.
"Peppermint schnapps?" Ken questioned, not understanding the point.
"Yes, peppermint schnapps!" Ben repeated happily. "This will get us through the day..." he explained with condescending inflection, quickly screwing the cap off the bottle. "...we'll feel like dynamite...but smell minty fresh!" He smiled excitedly as if he had just unveiled a mastermind plan, holding the bottle out to Ken. "No one will suspect a thing!"
"You are the stupidest idiot on the planet!" Ken reacted furiously, pushing past Ben and abruptly leaving the room. As he exited he called over his shoulder, "Dynamite eventually explodes, you know!"
Ben chuckled to himself and spoke to the empty room. "You gotta quit taking my analogies so darn literal." He stood motionless for a few seconds to allow the rebuttal to sink in. Then he shook his head with a smile and lifted the bottle to his lips, chugging four gulps in quick succession.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Ken's eyes opened but the fog was still thick all around him. The world was upside-down. Was he awake or was this a dream? He slowly sat up and put his feet on the floor, groaning with the stiffness and pain. The room was quiet and spinning slightly, but it was his room, and he was sitting on the edge of his bed. One look at his bedside table and he began to comprehend some of what had happened. There sat the empty bourbon bottle, the empty rum bottles, and an empty malt liquor bottle.
"Oh, God," he mumbled, his mind swimming with the cloudy memories, his body aching with regret. "Here we are again."
"You just lie back down and rest," Ben said calmly and quietly, "You're a little under the weather, but you'll feel better soon enough."
Ken looked up with squinting eyes and saw Ben was dressed and pulling on his shoes. He was going somewhere. At this early hour? Ken lifted the large beer bottle off the nightstand and held it up. "What is this?"
"That?" Ben answered casually, "That was a little nightcap I had after you fell asleep. The finishing touch to a lovely evening."
"You went back out for more?" Ken asked, a tinge of unbelief in his voice. "You drove to the store in your condition?"
"Relax," Ben assured him, "Nothing out of the ordinary. Nobody noticed a thing."
"But..." Ken started to protest.
"I was fine," Ben cut him off, gathering up his wallet and keys. "Perfectly in control. I'm not one of those klutzy amateurs, my friend, swerving all over the road..." He held up his arms with clenched fists to simulate gripping a steering wheel. "Steady as a stinkin' rock, baby. I might even drive better than you do."
"Oh, God," Ken moaned and laid back down on the bed with one hand holding his pounding head.
"Just chill for a few minutes," Ben said dismissively, "I'll be right back with reinforcements." He moved through the doorway.
"No!" Ken called to stop him. "I've got to be somewhere tonight!"
Ben stuck his head back in the room. "Exactly," he replied in agreement, "We're going to need something to get us going. Grease the cogs. Oil the hinges. Otherwise we're going to be as stiff and creaky as a rusty gate."
"God help me," Ken whimpered with anguish, "I don't want to live like this."
But Ben, singing happily to himself, was already halfway to the car.
PART FOUR - "REINFORCEMENTS"
When Ben returned from the store, Ken was at the kitchen table, staring down into a bowl of soggy cereal.
"Hey, buddy!" Ben sang out cheerfully, setting his package on the counter with a loud clink! "Whatcha eatin'?"
"Nothing," Ken mumbled slowly in response. "I feel sick. If I eat this I'm going to puke, but if I don't I'll feel worse." He continued to stare hopelessly at his untouched cereal.
"What you need is a stomach-settler," Ben advised, pulling mini-bottles out of his coat pockets and setting them on the table. "This is just the medicine you need."
Ken looked at the bottles disapprovingly. "More flavored rum," he acknowledged flatly, "Genius idea."
"Yeah, I know!" Ben replied, ignoring Ken's sarcasm. "This stuff is perfect for breakfast." He cracked open a random bottle and poured the entire contents into his mouth. He paused with a grimace, then swallowed hard. "Oh yeah!" he exclaimed with a forceful exhale reeking of sweet-smelling alcohol, "That's the ticket!" He moved his head and shoulders around to loosen up. Then he examined the selection in his hand and commented authoritatively, "The cherry blend is exceptionally tasty." He looked for a reaction from Ken but got nothing. "Dude, it's only like sixty proof. What's the harm in a little pick-me-up?"
"Because," Ken said angrily, getting up from the table, "I've got to be somewhere tonight!"
"Okay, okay!" Ben put up his hands in defense. "I know, I know!" He retreated to the kitchen counter and reached into his package. "That's why I got this!" He pulled out a bottle of clear liquid.
Ken dumped his uneaten cereal into the sink and turned to face him. "What is that?"
"Peppermint schnapps!" Ben announced proudly, holding the bottle like a game show assistant.
"Peppermint schnapps?" Ken questioned, not understanding the point.
"Yes, peppermint schnapps!" Ben repeated happily. "This will get us through the day..." he explained with condescending inflection, quickly screwing the cap off the bottle. "...we'll feel like dynamite...but smell minty fresh!" He smiled excitedly as if he had just unveiled a mastermind plan, holding the bottle out to Ken. "No one will suspect a thing!"
"You are the stupidest idiot on the planet!" Ken reacted furiously, pushing past Ben and abruptly leaving the room. As he exited he called over his shoulder, "Dynamite eventually explodes, you know!"
Ben chuckled to himself and spoke to the empty room. "You gotta quit taking my analogies so darn literal." He stood motionless for a few seconds to allow the rebuttal to sink in. Then he shook his head with a smile and lifted the bottle to his lips, chugging four gulps in quick succession.
TO BE CONTINUED...
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF KEN AND BEN
PART ONE: "BLACK FRIDAY"
The afternoon was sunny and pleasant. The world was right-side up. It was a typical day like any other: relatively uneventful and calm.
Driving along in his car, Ken tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the cheerful Christmas music on the radio. The holiday season had officially begun, and early shoppers were stampeding the stores for so-called "Black Friday."
If only Ken had known how black it was about to get.
The kids had gone to their mother's, and there was really nothing pressing on Ken's schedule, except to get those two bedrooms at home cleaned up and organized. A little "spring cleaning," thought Ken, although this is fall...or perhaps winter. He chuckled to himself. Well, whatever you call it, I've got to get those rooms fixed up for when my brother and his kids come for Christmas. I need to clean out the closets, weed out the old clothes, and dust those bookshelves...
Suddenly Ken started as a hand came down on his right shoulder and gripped him tightly. He swerved slightly at the shock but recovered quickly and maintained control of the vehicle. Looking in the rearview mirror, he could see a dark figure in the back seat. He cringed as the shadow leaned forward between the gap in the front seats, and the tired, haggard face came into view, almost resting on Ken's upper arm.
"Hey, dude, I just had a wonderful idea," mumbled Ben, his voice soft and scratchy as one who has just awakened from a long, deep sleep.
"No, no bright ideas!" Ken recoiled from the warm, affectionate touch and turned his nose away from the tempting, aromatic breath. "Just stay back there! Lie back down and don't bother me! I'm not dealing with you right now!"
"Oh, stop it!" Ben laughed derisively, "You're so freakin' immature." His voice was gaining volume, and quickly becoming more alive and clear. "I just had one simple little thought, that's all. No need to get all high and mighty with me."
Ken gripped the wheel and focused hard on the road ahead. Watch it, he thought to himself, You don't want to get him riled up. He'll start some kind of trouble.
"Cut the crap," Ben said, all humor draining from his face, "You know I can hear you. I'm right here."
Ken's hands tightened on the steering wheel as he realized Ben was now in the passenger seat, glaring at him with an irritated, contemptuous scowl. Ben switched off the radio and the car fell silent.
"What in the hell is the matter with you?" Ben asked rudely. "What are you trying to prove? And to who? Like anybody cares."
Ken kept staring straight ahead, hoping to avoid a confrontation with Ben. "I'm acting like a responsible adult."
"Who are you kidding?" Ben laughed, "I know who you are! You don't have to play that game with me, man! I'm your buddy! I'm a part of you!" He nudged Ken's arm. "You and I go way back, partner. We've been together longer than you or I can remember. Stop acting like you don't even know me. Quit pretending you don't freakin' love me!"
"I don't love you!" Ken reacted forcefully. "I don't need you anymore! I have a life that is important, a life with a purpose. I have children that depend on me. I have people at church, friends and family who love me."
"That is the stupidest load of crap I have ever heard you say," Ben stated harshly but evenly, "But very noble and admirable." Ken started to smile, thinking he might have scored a point, but Ben added viciously, "Just like every other pie-eyed moron stumbling through life oblivious to the horse crap they're walking through."
That stung a little, but Ken managed to maneuver around it. "Wow. You're in a good mood!" he commented sarcastically, trying to laugh Ben off and disarm him.
"I tell it like it is," Ben stated matter-of-factly. "You can go around denying that your life sucks but that doesn't change the reality of it. Face it. You're a washed-up loser, like me. We're never going to amount to anything." Ben craned his neck, looking out the windows, searching. "We might as well embrace the one thing that we're really good at. There's a store that's open right up here."
Ken felt his spirit stumble, but he fought hard to recover. "I'm not stopping at any store!" he said firmly, "You don't know what you're talking about, and I'm not listening anyway."
"Will you grow up?" Ben spat. "Are you going to let other people dictate your life? You've got to take care of yourself, man, otherwise you're nothing but a dumbass idiot drone."
Ken slowed to a stop at a red light. "Look, let's not get into this right now. I just want to get home and get a few things done." The light turned green and he drove on.
Ben squirmed restlessly in his seat. "You know what this is really about," he muttered grumpily, "You know what we need."
"No, we don't!" Ken stood his ground, avoiding eye contact with Ben. "Just be quiet and we'll be home in a minute." He concentrated on his driving. For a few blessed seconds the car was quiet.
"You think anybody really loves you?" Ben broke the silence. "I mean, really understands you, feels what you feel, loves like you love, lives in the same world you do?"
"Just stop," Ken said flatly, "Just be quiet." He felt his resolve starting to slip. He took a deep breath and held on, ignoring the nagging questions, praying for simple silence in his troubled mind. The problem was, the more he tried to disregard Ben's presence, the more he was aware of it, the more he felt it, and the more it was overpowering him. He glided smoothly to a stop at another red light and exhaled a tired sigh.
Ken turned and casually glanced at the car stopped beside him. In it was a man and a woman with a child in a car seat in the back. Just as his attention registered the scene, the woman reached over and ran her fingers through the man's hair. The man leaned towards her and they kissed, and when they broke apart they were both smiling widely, clearly enjoying themselves. Then the woman turned in her seat and was saying something to the baby in the back seat, as he kicked his feet and waved his arms with excitement.
"That's an adorable scene, isn't it?" Ben said softly, "The happy family, the beautiful wife...the joy of love...the blessing of a normal life..." Ben could see the longing in Ken's transfixed gaze. He could hear the gurgling of boiling jealousy churning in his gut, smell the fear of opportunities forever lost, and feel his grip on his resolve loosening.
Ken tore his eyes away from the scene. The light had changed. He sped off through the intersection, still feeling the weight, the regret, the pain.
"That's not your world," said Ben softly, affecting false reassurance. "You're not like them anymore, and you never will be again. You're in another world now. Another dimension. An alternate existence."
Ken didn't speak. Scars were beginning to reopen, wounds were beginning to sting again. He started to feel angry. Cheated. Rejected. Terribly alone.
"I know it hurts," Ben continued, "But that's just how it is. It's just me and you, dude, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner we'll get along, and the better." Ken kept his eyes on the road, and wished Ben would simply evaporate or burst into flame. He didn't want to listen to these words. They were twisted. They were lies. Or were they?
Ben was looking out of the passenger window, and suddenly spoke up. "Oh, hey! Pull in here right quick. I need to pick up a little something."
Ken relaxed his pressure on the accelerator just a bit, but continued on past the store. If he kept going, maybe Ben would eventually give up and fall silent.
"Hey!" Ben yelped, "You missed the turn!" After a grunt of exasperation, he gave Ken's arm a gentle pat with the back of his hand and pointed up ahead. His voice became calm and controlled. His demeanor was nonchalant. "Just go around the block up here and we can double back."
Instead Ken whipped the car into the nearest parking lot and came to an abrupt halt.
"No! I said no, dammit!" His voice was strained but firm, his eyes were furious. His knuckles were white on the wheel and his breathing was thick. He was pissed, but he was breaking. "You're not going to do this anymore! Do you hear me! I mean it! This is stupid! It's irresponsible! It's crazy!" His voice cracked but he took a deep breath and calmed himself. "It's...it's not God's will for me," he said softly, "I've come too far. There are too many people depending on me." He gathered his strength and turned to look straight in the face of Ben. "Now, I would like you to get out and leave me alone. 'We' are finished. Forever."
Ben shrank back a little and was impressed with Ken's newfound fortitude, but he would not give up so easily. He knew how to get inside this guy's head. He knew how to crack this nut. He approached from a different angle.
"Oh, hey, I'm sorry, dude," he said with compassion, and placed a hand gingerly on Ken's shoulder.
"No...just...don't..." Ken tried to retreat, but Ben intensified his grip, squeezing the shoulder with caring concern. Ken felt his body slacken. Suddenly he was feeling too tired to fight.
"I get it, man," Ben said defensively, "I'm not like everyone else, these so-called 'friends' who pretend to be interested in you but know absolutely nothing about you. Those phony meddlers who just want to rip you open and spill all your filthy guts all over the place for everyone to gawk at and ridicule. They don't understand. They don't know who you are! They don't give a rat's friggin' ass! They don't have a clue what it's like to be you!"
Ben was on a roll now. He was in Ken's face and hoarding his full attention, chiseling his way into his very core. "I know exactly how you feel! I know precisely how you think!" Ben backed off and added comfortingly, "And I know how you hurt."
Ken swallowed hard and kept a tight hold on his emotions.
"It's been an awful fifteen years," Ben went on, "But unlike everyone else, I've been right here with you, down in the trenches, all through the nasty, god-awful divorce and this crap-hole of a life you've been condemned to. We've had a hell of a bad trip, man. It has definitely sucked."
Ken blinked back a tear, and thought to point out that in fact, Ben had helped cause all those bad things to happen - that much should be obvious - but Ben was peering right into his eyes, right into his very soul, and suddenly the point didn't seem all that important.
"Don't think I haven't felt it too, man," Ben said, leaning closer, his voice becoming softer and more soothing. "Listen," he said with sincere concern, "I love you, man. I swear to God I do. I never meant to hurt you in any way. I've only tried to help. I've only tried to relieve some of that hellacious pain inside you. You would have never made it through without me, right? You are who you are today because of all we've been through together, right?"
Ken started to say, "But is what I am today such a good thing?" but Ben cut through his thoughts and went on.
"We've got to stick together, man," he said encouragingly, "We can help each other. You help keep me in check and I help you forget about some of that pain you carry around. You and I are one, baby! No one's going to come between us!" He patted Ken's shoulder and Ken grimaced reluctantly.
"Come on!" Ben said cheerfully, "You've got those rooms to clean, right? All we've got to do is swing back around to the store, I'll grab a little something to get the blood flowing, and we'll be a couple of cleanin' fools! It'll be fun! Otherwise you know you'll end up crashing as soon as you get home and you won't get anything done. You'll plop right down and fall asleep in front of the TV."
Ken did feel a bit tired and knew Ben's prediction was probably accurate, but he knew it was wrong. This was a bad idea.
"Oh, come on!" Ben badgered tactfully, "Who's gonna know, ya big sissy?! Are we gonna live an exciting life or die of boredom?" Then he eased up a bit. "Just one little bottle. I swear. That's it. Once that's gone I'm done. Knock back a few, put on a cool buzz, no problems. Life goes on." He watched Ken struggling to stand firm and added with a whisper, "No one will ever...know..."
Ken still resisted, but he was teetering on the edge. I guess one night...with one little bottle...
"Sure!" Ben smiled triumphantly, "Let's crush the memory of that miserable ex-wife of yours!" This last statement slammed a door in Ken's brain, and that door was to the room of reason.
"Okay, okay," Ken said weakly, realizing he would never win this argument. "Let's get it out of your system and be done with it." He threw the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot to go back around the block.
"By the way," he said, "That was totally out of line, man. Completely unnecessary. You don't have to bring her up. That doesn't work on me anymore." He glanced over at Ben, and felt a cold emptiness in the center of his chest when he saw the sly grin on his evil twin's face.
"Sure it doesn't..." Ben said unctuously, and Ken drove on fearfully but purposefully, knowing he was steering straight into hell.
PART TWO: "DESCENSION"
When the car pulled out of the parking lot of the store, Ben was now behind the wheel and Ken his captive passenger. It was only a short distance home, but Ben took an odd turn which would take them the long way around to their destination.
"Where are you going?" Ken asked nervously.
"Home," Ben answered dryly.
"This way?" Ken countered, and then he heard the rustling of the brown bag. Ben was fishing a mini-bottle out of the purchases he had made. Ken felt uneasy. "What are you doing?"
"Just a quick appetizer," Ben quipped playfully and slammed almost the entire mini-bottle in one gulp. After exhaling dramatically and shaking his head for effect, he downed what remained.
"Can't you wait until we get home?" Ken complained, "What if a cop sees you?"
"Ah, just shut up, will ya?!" Ben lashed out hatefully. "Just shut up! I'm in command now! I will pilot this ship as I see fit!" Then his demeanor changed altogether and he smiled pleasantly. "You just sit back now, and enjoy the cruise." He pulled out another mini-bottle and cracked it open. "Become one with the numbness, dude. It'll all feel better in a minute. You'll remember. It's like heaven."
Another mini-bottle gone.
"I thought you said just one little bottle," Ken commented sarcastically, averting his gaze out his window.
"Well, yeah," Ben explained, "I did buy just one bottle, but they had these little free samples of flavored rum at the cash register. They looked tasty and harmless." He smiled innocently as he opened another. "And by golly, they are!"
Another mini-bottle gone.
"Free samples, my ass," Ken said, turning abruptly and pointing to the bag in Ben's lap, "and I happen to notice that pint bottle of bourbon has a white label. You said you were going to get the lower-proof green label, you liar. That stuff you bought is 100-proof."
Ben frowned mockingly. "I'm sorry. They were out of the green label."
"Bull...crap..."
"White label was on sale?"
Ken shook his head. "Huh-uh."
"Look," Ben said, "You want your car to perform better, you gotta use higher octane gas."
"Is that right," Ken responded flatly as he turned away again in disgust.
"This is the bourbon equivalent to Amoco Ultimate, baby!" He patted the brown paper bag with affection.
"You're hopeless," Ken said wearily, still staring out the side window, not wanting to watch Ben's reckless behavior. "You know that, don't you? You're going to kill us both."
"Yes I am!" Ben cheered without care, "And we're gonna have a good time while we do it!"
"Don't talk like that," Ken turned on him, feeling a bit strange and dizzy. "It's not funny...asshole!"
"Oh-ho! Listen to Mr. Foul Mouth!" Ben teased, "I ought to wash your mouth out with alcohol!"
Ken turned away, too exhausted to respond. It was no use. He was no longer in control. His eyelids were getting heavy, and everything around him was fading to gray. He was wandering into a fog, crossing over into a meaningless, painless dream world. The more he thought about it the less he cared, and the more his fears melted away the less he fought against the transition.
"Hey," he said to Ben, his eyes now closed, his head beginning to sag down onto his chest, "I gotta be somewhere tomorrow night. It's important."
"No problem," Ben said. "Everything's under control. All systems are go, no foreseeable complications." He raised the last mini-bottle to his lips and drained it effortlessly. He looked in the passenger seat and Ken was gone, drifting into a comatose state. Ben pulled the brown paper bag off of the white label bourbon and raised the bottle in a toast to his sleeping companion.
"Nobody loves you like I do," he said happily, and brought the bottle to his mouth with a satisfied, tipsy smile.
TO BE CONTINUED...
The afternoon was sunny and pleasant. The world was right-side up. It was a typical day like any other: relatively uneventful and calm.
Driving along in his car, Ken tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the cheerful Christmas music on the radio. The holiday season had officially begun, and early shoppers were stampeding the stores for so-called "Black Friday."
If only Ken had known how black it was about to get.
The kids had gone to their mother's, and there was really nothing pressing on Ken's schedule, except to get those two bedrooms at home cleaned up and organized. A little "spring cleaning," thought Ken, although this is fall...or perhaps winter. He chuckled to himself. Well, whatever you call it, I've got to get those rooms fixed up for when my brother and his kids come for Christmas. I need to clean out the closets, weed out the old clothes, and dust those bookshelves...
Suddenly Ken started as a hand came down on his right shoulder and gripped him tightly. He swerved slightly at the shock but recovered quickly and maintained control of the vehicle. Looking in the rearview mirror, he could see a dark figure in the back seat. He cringed as the shadow leaned forward between the gap in the front seats, and the tired, haggard face came into view, almost resting on Ken's upper arm.
"Hey, dude, I just had a wonderful idea," mumbled Ben, his voice soft and scratchy as one who has just awakened from a long, deep sleep.
"No, no bright ideas!" Ken recoiled from the warm, affectionate touch and turned his nose away from the tempting, aromatic breath. "Just stay back there! Lie back down and don't bother me! I'm not dealing with you right now!"
"Oh, stop it!" Ben laughed derisively, "You're so freakin' immature." His voice was gaining volume, and quickly becoming more alive and clear. "I just had one simple little thought, that's all. No need to get all high and mighty with me."
Ken gripped the wheel and focused hard on the road ahead. Watch it, he thought to himself, You don't want to get him riled up. He'll start some kind of trouble.
"Cut the crap," Ben said, all humor draining from his face, "You know I can hear you. I'm right here."
Ken's hands tightened on the steering wheel as he realized Ben was now in the passenger seat, glaring at him with an irritated, contemptuous scowl. Ben switched off the radio and the car fell silent.
"What in the hell is the matter with you?" Ben asked rudely. "What are you trying to prove? And to who? Like anybody cares."
Ken kept staring straight ahead, hoping to avoid a confrontation with Ben. "I'm acting like a responsible adult."
"Who are you kidding?" Ben laughed, "I know who you are! You don't have to play that game with me, man! I'm your buddy! I'm a part of you!" He nudged Ken's arm. "You and I go way back, partner. We've been together longer than you or I can remember. Stop acting like you don't even know me. Quit pretending you don't freakin' love me!"
"I don't love you!" Ken reacted forcefully. "I don't need you anymore! I have a life that is important, a life with a purpose. I have children that depend on me. I have people at church, friends and family who love me."
"That is the stupidest load of crap I have ever heard you say," Ben stated harshly but evenly, "But very noble and admirable." Ken started to smile, thinking he might have scored a point, but Ben added viciously, "Just like every other pie-eyed moron stumbling through life oblivious to the horse crap they're walking through."
That stung a little, but Ken managed to maneuver around it. "Wow. You're in a good mood!" he commented sarcastically, trying to laugh Ben off and disarm him.
"I tell it like it is," Ben stated matter-of-factly. "You can go around denying that your life sucks but that doesn't change the reality of it. Face it. You're a washed-up loser, like me. We're never going to amount to anything." Ben craned his neck, looking out the windows, searching. "We might as well embrace the one thing that we're really good at. There's a store that's open right up here."
Ken felt his spirit stumble, but he fought hard to recover. "I'm not stopping at any store!" he said firmly, "You don't know what you're talking about, and I'm not listening anyway."
"Will you grow up?" Ben spat. "Are you going to let other people dictate your life? You've got to take care of yourself, man, otherwise you're nothing but a dumbass idiot drone."
Ken slowed to a stop at a red light. "Look, let's not get into this right now. I just want to get home and get a few things done." The light turned green and he drove on.
Ben squirmed restlessly in his seat. "You know what this is really about," he muttered grumpily, "You know what we need."
"No, we don't!" Ken stood his ground, avoiding eye contact with Ben. "Just be quiet and we'll be home in a minute." He concentrated on his driving. For a few blessed seconds the car was quiet.
"You think anybody really loves you?" Ben broke the silence. "I mean, really understands you, feels what you feel, loves like you love, lives in the same world you do?"
"Just stop," Ken said flatly, "Just be quiet." He felt his resolve starting to slip. He took a deep breath and held on, ignoring the nagging questions, praying for simple silence in his troubled mind. The problem was, the more he tried to disregard Ben's presence, the more he was aware of it, the more he felt it, and the more it was overpowering him. He glided smoothly to a stop at another red light and exhaled a tired sigh.
Ken turned and casually glanced at the car stopped beside him. In it was a man and a woman with a child in a car seat in the back. Just as his attention registered the scene, the woman reached over and ran her fingers through the man's hair. The man leaned towards her and they kissed, and when they broke apart they were both smiling widely, clearly enjoying themselves. Then the woman turned in her seat and was saying something to the baby in the back seat, as he kicked his feet and waved his arms with excitement.
"That's an adorable scene, isn't it?" Ben said softly, "The happy family, the beautiful wife...the joy of love...the blessing of a normal life..." Ben could see the longing in Ken's transfixed gaze. He could hear the gurgling of boiling jealousy churning in his gut, smell the fear of opportunities forever lost, and feel his grip on his resolve loosening.
Ken tore his eyes away from the scene. The light had changed. He sped off through the intersection, still feeling the weight, the regret, the pain.
"That's not your world," said Ben softly, affecting false reassurance. "You're not like them anymore, and you never will be again. You're in another world now. Another dimension. An alternate existence."
Ken didn't speak. Scars were beginning to reopen, wounds were beginning to sting again. He started to feel angry. Cheated. Rejected. Terribly alone.
"I know it hurts," Ben continued, "But that's just how it is. It's just me and you, dude, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner we'll get along, and the better." Ken kept his eyes on the road, and wished Ben would simply evaporate or burst into flame. He didn't want to listen to these words. They were twisted. They were lies. Or were they?
Ben was looking out of the passenger window, and suddenly spoke up. "Oh, hey! Pull in here right quick. I need to pick up a little something."
Ken relaxed his pressure on the accelerator just a bit, but continued on past the store. If he kept going, maybe Ben would eventually give up and fall silent.
"Hey!" Ben yelped, "You missed the turn!" After a grunt of exasperation, he gave Ken's arm a gentle pat with the back of his hand and pointed up ahead. His voice became calm and controlled. His demeanor was nonchalant. "Just go around the block up here and we can double back."
Instead Ken whipped the car into the nearest parking lot and came to an abrupt halt.
"No! I said no, dammit!" His voice was strained but firm, his eyes were furious. His knuckles were white on the wheel and his breathing was thick. He was pissed, but he was breaking. "You're not going to do this anymore! Do you hear me! I mean it! This is stupid! It's irresponsible! It's crazy!" His voice cracked but he took a deep breath and calmed himself. "It's...it's not God's will for me," he said softly, "I've come too far. There are too many people depending on me." He gathered his strength and turned to look straight in the face of Ben. "Now, I would like you to get out and leave me alone. 'We' are finished. Forever."
Ben shrank back a little and was impressed with Ken's newfound fortitude, but he would not give up so easily. He knew how to get inside this guy's head. He knew how to crack this nut. He approached from a different angle.
"Oh, hey, I'm sorry, dude," he said with compassion, and placed a hand gingerly on Ken's shoulder.
"No...just...don't..." Ken tried to retreat, but Ben intensified his grip, squeezing the shoulder with caring concern. Ken felt his body slacken. Suddenly he was feeling too tired to fight.
"I get it, man," Ben said defensively, "I'm not like everyone else, these so-called 'friends' who pretend to be interested in you but know absolutely nothing about you. Those phony meddlers who just want to rip you open and spill all your filthy guts all over the place for everyone to gawk at and ridicule. They don't understand. They don't know who you are! They don't give a rat's friggin' ass! They don't have a clue what it's like to be you!"
Ben was on a roll now. He was in Ken's face and hoarding his full attention, chiseling his way into his very core. "I know exactly how you feel! I know precisely how you think!" Ben backed off and added comfortingly, "And I know how you hurt."
Ken swallowed hard and kept a tight hold on his emotions.
"It's been an awful fifteen years," Ben went on, "But unlike everyone else, I've been right here with you, down in the trenches, all through the nasty, god-awful divorce and this crap-hole of a life you've been condemned to. We've had a hell of a bad trip, man. It has definitely sucked."
Ken blinked back a tear, and thought to point out that in fact, Ben had helped cause all those bad things to happen - that much should be obvious - but Ben was peering right into his eyes, right into his very soul, and suddenly the point didn't seem all that important.
"Don't think I haven't felt it too, man," Ben said, leaning closer, his voice becoming softer and more soothing. "Listen," he said with sincere concern, "I love you, man. I swear to God I do. I never meant to hurt you in any way. I've only tried to help. I've only tried to relieve some of that hellacious pain inside you. You would have never made it through without me, right? You are who you are today because of all we've been through together, right?"
Ken started to say, "But is what I am today such a good thing?" but Ben cut through his thoughts and went on.
"We've got to stick together, man," he said encouragingly, "We can help each other. You help keep me in check and I help you forget about some of that pain you carry around. You and I are one, baby! No one's going to come between us!" He patted Ken's shoulder and Ken grimaced reluctantly.
"Come on!" Ben said cheerfully, "You've got those rooms to clean, right? All we've got to do is swing back around to the store, I'll grab a little something to get the blood flowing, and we'll be a couple of cleanin' fools! It'll be fun! Otherwise you know you'll end up crashing as soon as you get home and you won't get anything done. You'll plop right down and fall asleep in front of the TV."
Ken did feel a bit tired and knew Ben's prediction was probably accurate, but he knew it was wrong. This was a bad idea.
"Oh, come on!" Ben badgered tactfully, "Who's gonna know, ya big sissy?! Are we gonna live an exciting life or die of boredom?" Then he eased up a bit. "Just one little bottle. I swear. That's it. Once that's gone I'm done. Knock back a few, put on a cool buzz, no problems. Life goes on." He watched Ken struggling to stand firm and added with a whisper, "No one will ever...know..."
Ken still resisted, but he was teetering on the edge. I guess one night...with one little bottle...
"Sure!" Ben smiled triumphantly, "Let's crush the memory of that miserable ex-wife of yours!" This last statement slammed a door in Ken's brain, and that door was to the room of reason.
"Okay, okay," Ken said weakly, realizing he would never win this argument. "Let's get it out of your system and be done with it." He threw the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot to go back around the block.
"By the way," he said, "That was totally out of line, man. Completely unnecessary. You don't have to bring her up. That doesn't work on me anymore." He glanced over at Ben, and felt a cold emptiness in the center of his chest when he saw the sly grin on his evil twin's face.
"Sure it doesn't..." Ben said unctuously, and Ken drove on fearfully but purposefully, knowing he was steering straight into hell.
PART TWO: "DESCENSION"
When the car pulled out of the parking lot of the store, Ben was now behind the wheel and Ken his captive passenger. It was only a short distance home, but Ben took an odd turn which would take them the long way around to their destination.
"Where are you going?" Ken asked nervously.
"Home," Ben answered dryly.
"This way?" Ken countered, and then he heard the rustling of the brown bag. Ben was fishing a mini-bottle out of the purchases he had made. Ken felt uneasy. "What are you doing?"
"Just a quick appetizer," Ben quipped playfully and slammed almost the entire mini-bottle in one gulp. After exhaling dramatically and shaking his head for effect, he downed what remained.
"Can't you wait until we get home?" Ken complained, "What if a cop sees you?"
"Ah, just shut up, will ya?!" Ben lashed out hatefully. "Just shut up! I'm in command now! I will pilot this ship as I see fit!" Then his demeanor changed altogether and he smiled pleasantly. "You just sit back now, and enjoy the cruise." He pulled out another mini-bottle and cracked it open. "Become one with the numbness, dude. It'll all feel better in a minute. You'll remember. It's like heaven."
Another mini-bottle gone.
"I thought you said just one little bottle," Ken commented sarcastically, averting his gaze out his window.
"Well, yeah," Ben explained, "I did buy just one bottle, but they had these little free samples of flavored rum at the cash register. They looked tasty and harmless." He smiled innocently as he opened another. "And by golly, they are!"
Another mini-bottle gone.
"Free samples, my ass," Ken said, turning abruptly and pointing to the bag in Ben's lap, "and I happen to notice that pint bottle of bourbon has a white label. You said you were going to get the lower-proof green label, you liar. That stuff you bought is 100-proof."
Ben frowned mockingly. "I'm sorry. They were out of the green label."
"Bull...crap..."
"White label was on sale?"
Ken shook his head. "Huh-uh."
"Look," Ben said, "You want your car to perform better, you gotta use higher octane gas."
"Is that right," Ken responded flatly as he turned away again in disgust.
"This is the bourbon equivalent to Amoco Ultimate, baby!" He patted the brown paper bag with affection.
"You're hopeless," Ken said wearily, still staring out the side window, not wanting to watch Ben's reckless behavior. "You know that, don't you? You're going to kill us both."
"Yes I am!" Ben cheered without care, "And we're gonna have a good time while we do it!"
"Don't talk like that," Ken turned on him, feeling a bit strange and dizzy. "It's not funny...asshole!"
"Oh-ho! Listen to Mr. Foul Mouth!" Ben teased, "I ought to wash your mouth out with alcohol!"
Ken turned away, too exhausted to respond. It was no use. He was no longer in control. His eyelids were getting heavy, and everything around him was fading to gray. He was wandering into a fog, crossing over into a meaningless, painless dream world. The more he thought about it the less he cared, and the more his fears melted away the less he fought against the transition.
"Hey," he said to Ben, his eyes now closed, his head beginning to sag down onto his chest, "I gotta be somewhere tomorrow night. It's important."
"No problem," Ben said. "Everything's under control. All systems are go, no foreseeable complications." He raised the last mini-bottle to his lips and drained it effortlessly. He looked in the passenger seat and Ken was gone, drifting into a comatose state. Ben pulled the brown paper bag off of the white label bourbon and raised the bottle in a toast to his sleeping companion.
"Nobody loves you like I do," he said happily, and brought the bottle to his mouth with a satisfied, tipsy smile.
TO BE CONTINUED...
CELEBRATE HEROES, NOT PARADE OCCUPIERS
Unfortunately, amid the rows of passing troops, vehicles and marching bands, along came a rag-tag group of eight or ten sloppily-dressed, angry-faced, sign-toting protesters pumping their fists and chanting, "We are the 99%!" In the middle of heroes and veterans who bravely serve their community and country, these arrogant malcontents just couldn't resist advertising their completely unrelated cause of class envy.
While no one begrudges these mobs their right to free speech, the 99% of citizens who came out to participate in a celebration of cops and soldiers would have preferred they kept their dumb demonstration over on the State House grounds.
Apparently even cows have more brains than these Occupy losers, these "useful idiots" for the left.
AS THE IMMIGRATION DEBATE HEATS UP, SO DOES FRITO-LAY'S FLAVOR LINE
Yes, one of the positive results of the growing number of immigrants from countries to our south pouring into America is the noticeable increase in the number of really good Mexican Restaurants, as well as the expansion of Frito-Lay's product lines into hotter, spicier offerings. Say what you will about "jobs being taken away from Americans" and "Emergency Rooms overwhelmed by illegals seeking minor medical care with no insurance" and "all these stinkin' signs written in English and Spanish," one good thing about the Mexican Invasion is the increment in flavorful snack foods that set your mouth on fire. Just the other day I was traveling in the Southwest, and by "Southwest" I mean the "Gilbert/Outer Lexington" area, and happened upon a little nondescript convenience store where I decided to stop and purchase a soda and a snack of some sort. Due to the fact that there are an abundance of Mexicans that work in the many fields that surround this area, this mini-mart had a plethora of piquant palatables of which I could partake.
I found, for instance, these new varieties of Cheetos and Doritos labeled "FIERY FUSION," which feature the flavor of "Sizzlin' Cayenne and Cheese." They are very spicy and hot, and the burn stays with you for quite a while, which if you are a connoisseur of spicy snacks is a good thing. They also have a flavor much different from the traditional "Flamin' Hot" line for which Frito-Lay is rather famous. Those products are somewhat generically spicy-hot, whereas the "Fiery Fusion" line is more "cheesy-hot." If you are a fan of hot snacks you'll love 'em. If you're not, then you have probably already ceased reading this blathering blog of bullcrap and moved on to something else more entertaining.
There is also the "FLAMAS" line, which is Spanish for "Flames," obviously. This branch of snacks features a heated version of Doritos as well as some twisty corn snacks called "Turbos," which is Spanish for "Turbos." These snacks, or "botanas" as indicated on the "Spanish-first, English-second" packaging, have the contrasting flavors of hot peppers and lime. Mexicans are big on hot peppers and limes, which are apparently prevelant commodities in their part of the world and thus, important ingredients in their style of cuisine. They do have a point, seeing as how Margarita cocktails complement hot salsa and chips rather exquisitely while one is awaiting the arrival of the main course at any given "restaurante de Mexicana." Hotter and spicier versions of Frito-Lay's corn chips are not the only examples of America slowly turning into another third-world country. I have also spotted Ruffles potato chips bearing the name "Queso Jalapeno," which is Spanish for "questionable jalapeno flavor." These crispy snacks are nothing like a hot version of the good-old-USA-made, Cheddar-Sour Cream Ruffles that you know and love, these taste like Ruffles dipped in spicy Cheez-Whiz, which is pretty good if you like that sort of thing. I'm not so sure, but at least they didn't re-title them "Rufflitos."
PSALM 152
God of Wonder! God of Awe!
From the pit of destruction you have saved me again;
From the depths of despair you have snatched me once more.
Though I was but scum of this earth,
Too lowly even to be considered human,
Your hands of grace have found me
And raised me up as a mighty eagle
To soar high above my adversaries,
To ride the winds of your empowering Spirit.
Praise you, Magnificent Father,
For your comfort and mercy,
Your bulwark of eternal, unconditional love
When I deserved nothing,
When I was at my worst,
And all hope was lost.
From the pit of destruction you have saved me again;
From the depths of despair you have snatched me once more.
Though I was but scum of this earth,
Too lowly even to be considered human,
Your hands of grace have found me
And raised me up as a mighty eagle
To soar high above my adversaries,
To ride the winds of your empowering Spirit.
Praise you, Magnificent Father,
For your comfort and mercy,
Your bulwark of eternal, unconditional love
When I deserved nothing,
When I was at my worst,
And all hope was lost.
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