Sorry I Ruined Your Orgy

by Bradley Sands

  A Suicidal Amputee Tries to Kill Himself by Rolling Off His Bed, Down the Stairs, Through the Screen Door, and Into Traffic; Some Dominican Kids Poke Him With Sticks Too, and an Eagle Shits on Him

  for Jereme Dean

  The suicidal amputee’s legs are playing a video game. The video game is called God Abuse. It is in two-player mode.

  The suicidal amputee’s left leg is trying to get the amputee to kill himself by rolling off his bed, down the stairs, through the screen door, and into traffic.

  The suicidal amputee’s right leg is trying to convince him that he has everything to live for.

  The suicidal amputee’s left leg is evil.

  The suicidal amputee’s right leg is good.

  The suicidal amputee’s left leg presses up on the control pad to roll him out of bed.

  The suicidal amputee’s right leg pushes the B button to make him think about the wetness of a hooker’s mouth.

  The suicidal amputee’s left leg presses down on the control pad to roll him down the stairs.

  The suicidal amputee’s right leg pushes the Z button to make him think about the cheapness of Baron Rothschild Vodka.

  The suicidal amputee’s left leg presses right on the control pad to roll him through the screen door.

  The suicidal amputee’s right leg pushes the B button to make him think about the time he shot a gook in the face.

  The suicidal amputee’s left leg presses left and then down on the control pad to roll him into traffic.

  The suicidal amputee’s right leg presses up up down down on the control pad and the X button and the A button and the Y button and the B button to turn the suicidal amputee into a monster truck.

  The suicidal amputee’s left leg presses left on the control pad to make him crush cars and extinguish lives.

  The suicidal amputee’s right leg pushes the X and Y buttons at the same time until the drivers’ screams fill his heart with joy.

  The suicidal amputee’s left leg pushes the start button and the pause button at the same time to make some Dominican kids poke him with sticks and an eagle shit on him.

  The suicidal amputee’s right leg taps rapidly on the B button until he doesn’t care about the Dominican kids or the eagle shit because his heart has exploded all over the black asphalt.

  Want to Hear Something Really Creepy?

  I wrote this on a couch,

  not my couch.

  A couch of undeterminable origin

  in an unknown terrain.

  I wanted to write this on my couch

  but after sitting down on my couch

  and beginning to write

  I was no longer on my couch

  but on someone else’s.

  Magic Show

  Detective watches the magic show. The amphitheater could hold ten thousand people, but he is the only person in the audience. He wonders if Magician would stop the show if he were to get up to leave. Curiosity overtakes him. He stands, waves to Magician and Lovely Assistant as he walks down the aisle. He leaves through the door. The usher with the red fedora has vanished. Perhaps Magician has made him disappear? Detective opens the door a crack, peeks inside. Magician has not stopped the show. But what happened to the rabbit in the hat trick? Magician was performing the trick when Detective exited the theatre. He had only just started the trick by extending his top hat towards Detective to prove it was an ordinary top hat.

  Instead of the rabbit in the hat trick, Magician has made the ceiling vanish and the stars turn into flying giraffes and the flying giraffes attack the Earth. Detective is not impressed. He has seen other magicians perform this trick before. He has seen flying giraffes attack the Earth before. He has seen the Earth covered in blood that spouted out of people’s necks after flying giraffes devoured their faces. Detective is not impressed.

  He crashes through the door, shakes his fist, shouts, “I am not impressed!” His words echo through the amphitheater.

  Magician ignores his complaints, holds out Rabbit for Detective to inspect.

  But what happened to the flying giraffes attacking the Earth trick? Detective is confused. He uses the full extent of his analytical mind to determine what happened to the flying giraffes attacking the Earth trick, comes up empty.

  Magician puts Rabbit in a top hat, taps the top hat with his wand, says Magic Words, makes the animal disappear. Lovely Assistant waves her arms excitedly. Whoa, Detective thinks, What happened to the rabbit? He uses his analytical mind to determine where the creature went, fails. He is ashamed of himself, wonders if he should stop calling himself a detective. If he is unable to solve a mystery, he should probably refer to himself by another title. His customers are not willing to pay him fifty bucks a day plus expenses for him to feel ashamed when he is unable to solve their problems. Perplex-tive, he thinks. He needs to get all new business cards so they read, John Johns—Perplex-tive for hire. People will pay him to be perplexed. There are so many people in the world. Some of them must want to take advantage of a service where he provides his bewilderment on demand.

  Magician taps the black top hat with his wand, says Magic Words, pulls Rabbit out of the top hat. Lovely Assistant waves her arms excitedly. “Whoa,” Detective says out loud this time while clutching his heart. The shock of Rabbit’s return almost gives him a heart attack. But it does not give him a heart attack, because he has a healthy diet and exercises on a regular basis. Since he is not dead, Detective claps furiously to show his appreciation for Magician’s ability to leave him perplexed. Detective pumps his fist in the air, hoots, stamps his foot on the floor. Magician and Lovely Assistant bow. They freeze and do not move. Detective waits, wondering if the show is over or if Magician and Lovely Assistant are trying to delight him with their showroom dummy impersonations. Detective is not delighted. He is a little bored. But he is also a little mystified. He cannot understand how a person can stand so still. He is mystified that two people in the world can stand this still. He is even more amazed that these two still people are standing on the same stage. How did they find each other? Did one of them take out a classified ad?

  Detective walks towards the stage, climbs the steps, taps on Magician’s padded shoulder. “Errr...excuse me.” Magician does not stir, so Detective tries the same thing on Lovely Assistant’s shoulder. “Errr...excuse me.” She is not receptive. Detective is frustrated. He is ashamed at his inability to cause motion. He goes back to Magician, licks his earlobe.

  Magician flinches. “Who dares disturb Merrigan the Magnificent?”

  “Me.”

  “Who is me? Who dares?”

  “Name’s Ray Smith. I’m a private dick. Got a few questions for you.” He hands Magician his card.

  “Proceed at your own risk, mortal.”

  “Where were you on the night someone finished my milk and did not replace it?”

  “A magician cannot be compelled to reveal his whereabouts subsequent to his birth and prior to his death.”

  Detective opens his coat to give Magician a view of his gun. “Tell me or I will make your life vanish and never reappear.”

  “I do not respond to threats, Mr. Smith, particularly of the gunshot wound-kind considering I am bulletproof.”

  “Oh yeah?” He pulls his gun out of his holster, puts it to Magician’s forehead, pulls the trigger.

  Magician’s brains rocket out of the back of his skull. They splatter over his Cabinet of Secrets.

  Detective feels bad. It is the first time he has killed a man. He believed Magician was bulletproof. It is not his fault. Magician told him he was bulletproof. Detective has always wanted to shoot a man who was bulletproof. This was his first opportunity, although it was a false opportunity. Detective frowns, regretting he took the opportunity. He puts his gun back in its holster.

  Lovely Assistant stirs. “What’s going on here?”

  “I killed him. I feel terrible about it.”

  Lovely Assistant stares at Magician’s corpse, Magician’s brains. “Don’t worry, he
’s bulletproof.”

  Detective also stares at the brains. “If he’s bulletproof then my name’s Ray Brainsplatter.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Brainsplatter. Merrigan the Magnificent doesn’t look bulletproof. Is that correct?”

  Detective is getting exasperated. “Yes.”

  “Are you ready for Merrigan the Magnificent’s brain matter to return to its former location? Are you ready for Merrigan the Magnificent to arise from his deep slumber?”

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  She pries Magician’s wand out of his dead hand, taps his skull, says Magic Words.

  Magician’s brains grow little feet and walk from The Cabinet of Secrets to the back of his skull and his skin and hair grow over the exit wound and his blood becomes invisible and he opens his eyes.

  Lovely Assistant reaches out her arms, wiggles her fingers, says, “Ta-da!”

  Detective feels a sense of fulfillment. He has shot a man who was bulletproof. He can cross out this item on the list of the countless things he wants to do before he dies.

  Detective says, “That was pretty swell, but did you drink the rest of my milk?”

  Magician curls his upper lip in disdain. “The milk of mortals causes disgust and digestive troubles. My liquid diet is entirely composed of ambrosia and pigeon blood. I would rather kiss my lovely assistant than ingest your vile cow juice.”

  “Yeah, my roommate is probably the culprit if you didn’t do it. Let’s get down to serious business: Where does the rabbit in your hat go after it disappears?”

  “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

  Detective opens his coat to give Magician a view of his gun, remembers Magician is bulletproof, frowns, puts the gun back in the holster. “You gotta tell me. It’s a matter of life and death.”

  “I, Merrigan the Magnificent, imbibe such an enormous quantity of life and death that my tolerance has achieved the height of the cosmos.”

  Detective puts Magician in a headlock. “I’m tired of your mystical mumbo jumbo. If you wanna get outta this headlock, tell me where the damn rabbit goes.”

  “I am not the man in the headlock but you are the man in the headlock.”

  Detective stares into Magician’s eyes, but they are not Magician’s eyes—they are Detective’s Eyes, surrounded by Detective’s face. He squeals and releases his phantom double from the headlock. The phantom double regains the features of Magician.

  Lovely Assistant waves her arms excitedly. “Let’s hear it for Merrigan the Magnificent.”

  Magician points at Detective with his long finger and engages in a round of sinister laughter. “I will grace your query with a response if you perform a service for me. Walk across the entirety of this stage and the secret of the rabbit shall be revealed.”

  Detective begins walking, is stopped by an invisible force. The force feels like a chainsaw. Detective’s insides feel like they are being torn apart by a chainsaw, but his body does not have any wounds. It does not release blood. Perhaps Magician has made Detective’s blood and wounds invisible?

  Detective considers turning back, decides against it. The location of Rabbit is more important to him than answers to questions like “Is there life after death?” and “Is there other life in the universe?” and “Why me?” The answer is worth the loss of invisible blood and invisible viscera. He tries to crawl through the chainsaw pain, but it does not allow him to proceed. He tries over and over again but it is futile. Frustrated, he bangs his head on the floor. It makes a hollow sound. He knows the difference between a hollow sound and a filled sound. He notices a latch in the floor, bangs his head in frustration. A skilled detective would have noticed the latch, realized he was lying on top of a trapdoor, avoided further incidents with chainsaw pain. He thinks about the chainsaw pain. The thought of the pain knocks him unconscious.

  When Detective wakes up, he is lying onstage in the same place where he lost consciousness. He had expected a boiler room and a chair and ropes tied around him, but that only happens to real detectives. Detectives like him wake up in the same place they lose consciousness. There is no pockmarked ex-boxer slapping his face and asking questions. There is only Magician and Lovely Assistant and the void. He opens the trapdoor.

  Climbs down some steps.

  Floats past a universe composed of Legos.

  Swims through an ocean of thumbtacks.

  Climbs a mountain of spleens.

  Why is Detective doing all these things? Why are all these things under the stage? A trapdoor in a stage should lead to a small passageway to crawl through. A passageway of wood rather than Legos, thumbtacks, and spleens. It is difficult to travel through Legos and thumbtacks and spleens. It is difficult, but worth it. Detective would crawl through thousands, maybe millions, of miles of nuclear flame to discover the location of Rabbit. When Detective’s head peeks out of a crater in the stage, he’s glad he didn’t have to crawl through nuclear flame. He would not have appreciated that.

  Detective lifts himself out of the crater, and Magician says, “I congratulate you on your triumph, Mr. Smith.”

  Detective twitches his eyebrows. “Where is it?”

  “Where is what?”

  “Where is the rabbit?”

  “Why would you like to know?”

  “I’ve got no idea.”

  “I will tell you since you chanced the treacheries of the trapdoor.”

  “Do it.”

  “The rabbit never left the hat. You merely failed to observe him.”

  Detective pulls his gun out of his holster, puts it to Magician’s forehead, pulls the trigger.

  Lovely Assistant says, “Ta-da!”

  Going at It Like…

  They were drilling for carrot juice, battering-ramming down the door to the fleshy fortress, churning love-butter, giving immunization shots to prevent the extinction of the species, doing the sort of thing a babysitter isn’t paid enough to deal with when taking her charges to the park.

  “Bunnies silly!” shouted Benjy, then he spun his four-year-old tongue around as if it were the propeller of a helicopter.

  “What are the rabbits doin’?” asked his older sister, Wendy.

  The babysitter sighed. “They’re giving each other colon exams.”

  Wendy looked perplexed. “What’s a colon exam?”

  “That’s when someone is made extremely uncomfortable for the purpose of detecting cancer at an early stage.”

  A furry couple were each sitting in a swing, grasping the opposite sides of the swing set. After snorting to three, they let go and the two swings bombarded into each other, giving the male rabbit’s enormous...carrot...the opportunity to visit his mate’s rabbit hole. Then the swings parted, the rabbits returned to their opposite sides by pushing at the ground with their feet, and the countdown began anew.

  Benjy looked at the flying lovers and said, “I wanna play with the bunnies!”

  “You’ll have to wait your turn. But before that happens, I’ll have to disinfect your swing.”

  Wendy stared, hypnotized, at a moving wall of fornication: bunnies straddling, grappling, snatch-assing, sucking, and bucking. “Why are they pushing each other?”

  “They’re angry that their mommies and daddies like their brothers and sisters better than them.”

  The little girl smiled and said, “Oh, I thought they were just fucking.”

  Electric Boogaloo

  The man is skinny and tall. He is spinning on his shaved head. His head is not bleeding because he is spinning on a piece of cardboard. The piece of cardboard was torn off a box that once housed a punching bag. The man is spinning like a dreidel and preparing for takeoff. He is communicating with ground control. They say, “Take off initiated. Begin countdown.” Hip hop beats explode out of the man’s ghetto blaster. An MC counts backwards from ten. Fire shoots out of the man’s head, and it releases the sound of an explosion. The MC says, “Lift off” and the man blasts into space, grabbing stars as he passes and clutching them to
his chest.

  The Time Traveling Giraffe is on Fire

  Men and women dance to the black plague. The time traveling giraffe does not mind the flames. They make him feel special. He is the only burning giraffe in the universe. He is the only giraffe who exists simultaneously in every point in history. The time traveling giraffe has never actually time traveled. His gastric juices have time traveled. Time travelers he has ingested have time traveled. The time traveling giraffe only burns. He must always feed the fire. He is the loneliest giraffe on earth.

  Cormac McCarthy

  The alleyway lacks light but it is day and the stars in the sky provide illumination for Cormac McCarthy to view the buildings’ walls which are covered by posters depicting the image of a man who is unknown to him and a woman yells out the window in a voice of dissonance and Cormac McCarthy runs out of view towards the front of the building. But instead of the front of the building there is only an empty lot filled with transparent dirt that exhibits the bodies of those who argued with the existence of the dirt’s transparency and since Cormac McCarthy is skeptical he walks beyond the territory where the transparent dirt has authority and the place looks like an empty white room without furniture but is actually the fertile land where farmers grow trombones and he tries to pick an instrument for his personal use because he is a talented jazz musician but he looks into his hand and sees empty white space and a lack of furniture and he is delighted because a trombone creates the bellow of an elephant which is a sound that his ears are allergic to and prolonged exposure will cause them to revert to their original state of being cauliflower and he leaves the empty white room and passes a man who is outside walking his house on a leash and Cormac McCarthy wonders if this walk will produce urine or feces or wood shavings and he nods to the man grimly knowing the fate of a man who believes in the plausibility of walking his own house and the house barks at him and he is afraid of this criticism of his presence so he turns onto Everything Street and is dismayed to discover everything blocking his path and he makes mean faces at everything but it does not budge and Cormac McCarthy calls his wife to tell her he will be late for supper.