Post by regalo on Feb 23, 2006 22:00:52 GMT -5
The Bad Trip: HST Meets MST
My head was hurting like someone was using a sledgehammer on it and I realized I was in motion. It was dark and there was the smell of oil and burned rubber. I tried to stand but realized I was inside an enclosure! Dammit to hell! Some bastard had stuck me in a trunk! I was in some vehicle going somewhere I knew not, and I'd be damned if they were going to take me alive!
I started kicking at the back seat and yelling, "Let me out of here, you rotten bastards!" The car came to a slow halt. There were footsteps. I was still drunk and my head was pounding sending sharp pains down my neck. My leg cramped up and I knew I was doomed. Even if I were to escape I wouldn't get very far, not with a bad leg. They'd probably shoot me down like some rabid dog!
The only thing I had going for me in this case was my ability to remain calm and collected, I tried to breathe deeply and relax, preparing to smile for whoever opened the trunk. I heard voices.
"Take the Good Doctor out and place him in the pod," said the first voice.
"Okay," said the second voice. "What do I do if he fights back?"
"Use the Pacifier Gun on him," said the first.
Pacifier gun? That did not sound good. The trunk opened and standing before me was a short white-haired man holding a small futuristic-type weapon. "Hi, I'm Frank," he said. "It's time to go."
I crawled out of the trunk of the car and my feet touched the asphalt. I threw up. The man with the gun did not flinch, he simply backed off and waved the toy-like gun at me. I noticed another man's form retreating into the shadows, it had been, most likely the first man who had spoken. He had left me in the hands of The White-Haired Gun-Toting Nut. Perhaps I could take advantage of the fool's seeming simple-mindedness, try, perhaps to reason with him. But first, introductions were in order. "My name is Hunter Thompson, I'm a doctor of Journalism," I said, trying to strike up a conversation."
"I know who you are," said Frank. "Follow me, or rather, walk this way." He motioned with the gun. It was then that I noticed what looked like a small spaceship sitting on a launch area. "Get inside," said Frank.
"Look, I'll pay you whatever you want."
"I don't want money," said Frank. "I'm a scientist. I want knowledge."
"If it's knowledge you want," I said, "I can provide that too."
"Shut up," said Frank suddenly looking up into the night sky. It was then that I rushed him. It felt good to feel his little body against mine. I felt like a football player tackling a quarterback. The gun went flying. Frank landed under me. He was trying to breathe. I had knocked the wind out of him.
It was dark and I reached for his toy gun. I held it in my hand. It was as light as a feather and that convinced me it was indeed a toy. I pressed the trigger and was rewarded with a burst of light that issued forth from the tiny weapon. The beam of light lit up the launch area. Then there came the voice from behind me.
"Frank, can't you do anything right?" and I was stunned from behind. I quickly lost consciousness.
When I awoke I was floating in space. At first I thought it might be some kind of simulation, but, then I considered my weightlessness and understood what was happening. The pod I was in was docking with a bone-shaped vessel in space and before I knew it the two were connected and a hatchway opened and I was being greeted by a small bubble-gum machine-shaped robot.
"Hi, I'm Tom," said the small red droid. It was then that I realized that I must be hallucinating. "Follow me," said the Bot and it hovered down the corridor. I had no other choice. I followed it. It was best to see this through to its conclusion and maybe the drugs would wear off and I would find out where I really was.
We were greeted by a large snake-like robot with a female voice that the little red guy called Gypsy.
"How many times have I told you not to bring your friends home?" said Gypsy.
"He's not a friend, he's a newcomer," said Tom.
"Oh. Well. Carry on," said Gypsy snaking her way down the corridor. I had to step over her body to get past her. I found myself in the ship's sleeping quarters. There was junk all over the place -- this I was used to -- and I was in no way going to be the one to celan this mess up. The red Bot hovered through another doorway humming a little tune I was somewhat familiar with. I suddenly realized that it was Mick Jagger's Satisfaction.
There came a scream from around a corner and I ran to see what had happened to the red Bot. There was another Bot, made of gold, and it was sitting on the red one's chest.
"Ha ha!" said the gold Bot. "I told you to stay away from my potato chips, didn't I?"
"Crow," said the red Bot. "I didn't touch your chips!"
"Who's that?" asked Crow, suddenly looking at me. "I didn't know we had any visitors. I'm going to have to tell Mike."
The gold Bot was gone in a flash. My heart started to race. My head was spinning dizzily. Before I knew it, someone was shining a light in my eyes and asking me how I felt. I understood this to be the Mike the gold robot had been referring to. I started to struggle with Mike. He screamed as I was much stronger than he. He was trying to keep my arms down, to prevent me from swallowing my pills.
"Are those pills for your heart?" Mike was asking.
"Yes, my heart," I said. He let me go. And I downed several pills. I soon relaxed.
"Let get him to medical," said Mike, and the two robots assisted him in carrying me in to a large room, and setting me on a table.
I kicked and screamed. Perhaps they thought I was an alien of some sort and were going to perform an autopsy on me, study my insides, place little bits of me into the jars that lined every side of the room.
"Dr. Forrester," Mike was yelling. "Who is this guy you sent up?"
"Ahh," said a familiar voice, "that's Hunter Thompson, otherwise known as The Master of Gonzo Journalism." A man appeared on a monitor.
"He's a madman!" said Mike.
"Most geniuses are madmen," said Forrester. "Take me for example. Don't worry, he's only up there for a little while. I thought I'd just throw a wrench into the gears and see what happens."
"My pills! My pills!" I was screaming now. "Ask Doctor Quark! Bootleg Babies ask the wrong questions! I need some smack!"
"Good heavens," Mike was saying. "Tie him down until he's completely sober."
I broke loose from their grips and grabbed a metal pipe, waving it in front of myself, yelling with great menace! "Don't come near me! I'm armed!"
"Take it easy!" Mike was saying, "We're your friends."
Friends? I paused at the word, but, soon understood what their game was, they were trying to calm me into submission so they could perform ugly experiments on my body. I swung the pipe around shattering several jars.
"That's acid, Mike, it'll eat through the hull," the gold robot was saying.
"Forrester, get him off the ship! He'll destroy everything!" Mike was waving his arms around.
"Okay, okay," said Forrester. "Emergency measures will be taken! I said this was a bad idea, why did I ever listen to you?"
"Me?" said Frank, entering the frame. "What did I do?"
The vessel shook, or rather the walls were shaking. Then we heard the clank clank clanking sounds of something large coming down the corridor. A gigantic monstrosity of a robot entered medical and reached out to grab me. I evaded its grasp and ran out of medical and down the corridors. It chased me, this rather large Bot, and cornered me. Grabbing me about the arms it led me to an area of the ship marked OFF LIMITS. Two large doors opened and shut behind us. The Bot shoved me into another space pod and shut the hatchway behind me. As I looked though the portal I saw a hatchway rise upwards and the stars in space shing brighter than I had ever imagined. The pod took off into the darkness, entered the Earth's atmosphere, and set me down in a clearing. The hatch opened and I jumped out. The pod took off, leaving me there. Then all was silent.
There was simply no way to explain the experience other than to say I'd had a bad trip. That was not cocaine I had snorted, it had been ... something else ... something out of this world.
My head was hurting like someone was using a sledgehammer on it and I realized I was in motion. It was dark and there was the smell of oil and burned rubber. I tried to stand but realized I was inside an enclosure! Dammit to hell! Some bastard had stuck me in a trunk! I was in some vehicle going somewhere I knew not, and I'd be damned if they were going to take me alive!
I started kicking at the back seat and yelling, "Let me out of here, you rotten bastards!" The car came to a slow halt. There were footsteps. I was still drunk and my head was pounding sending sharp pains down my neck. My leg cramped up and I knew I was doomed. Even if I were to escape I wouldn't get very far, not with a bad leg. They'd probably shoot me down like some rabid dog!
The only thing I had going for me in this case was my ability to remain calm and collected, I tried to breathe deeply and relax, preparing to smile for whoever opened the trunk. I heard voices.
"Take the Good Doctor out and place him in the pod," said the first voice.
"Okay," said the second voice. "What do I do if he fights back?"
"Use the Pacifier Gun on him," said the first.
Pacifier gun? That did not sound good. The trunk opened and standing before me was a short white-haired man holding a small futuristic-type weapon. "Hi, I'm Frank," he said. "It's time to go."
I crawled out of the trunk of the car and my feet touched the asphalt. I threw up. The man with the gun did not flinch, he simply backed off and waved the toy-like gun at me. I noticed another man's form retreating into the shadows, it had been, most likely the first man who had spoken. He had left me in the hands of The White-Haired Gun-Toting Nut. Perhaps I could take advantage of the fool's seeming simple-mindedness, try, perhaps to reason with him. But first, introductions were in order. "My name is Hunter Thompson, I'm a doctor of Journalism," I said, trying to strike up a conversation."
"I know who you are," said Frank. "Follow me, or rather, walk this way." He motioned with the gun. It was then that I noticed what looked like a small spaceship sitting on a launch area. "Get inside," said Frank.
"Look, I'll pay you whatever you want."
"I don't want money," said Frank. "I'm a scientist. I want knowledge."
"If it's knowledge you want," I said, "I can provide that too."
"Shut up," said Frank suddenly looking up into the night sky. It was then that I rushed him. It felt good to feel his little body against mine. I felt like a football player tackling a quarterback. The gun went flying. Frank landed under me. He was trying to breathe. I had knocked the wind out of him.
It was dark and I reached for his toy gun. I held it in my hand. It was as light as a feather and that convinced me it was indeed a toy. I pressed the trigger and was rewarded with a burst of light that issued forth from the tiny weapon. The beam of light lit up the launch area. Then there came the voice from behind me.
"Frank, can't you do anything right?" and I was stunned from behind. I quickly lost consciousness.
When I awoke I was floating in space. At first I thought it might be some kind of simulation, but, then I considered my weightlessness and understood what was happening. The pod I was in was docking with a bone-shaped vessel in space and before I knew it the two were connected and a hatchway opened and I was being greeted by a small bubble-gum machine-shaped robot.
"Hi, I'm Tom," said the small red droid. It was then that I realized that I must be hallucinating. "Follow me," said the Bot and it hovered down the corridor. I had no other choice. I followed it. It was best to see this through to its conclusion and maybe the drugs would wear off and I would find out where I really was.
We were greeted by a large snake-like robot with a female voice that the little red guy called Gypsy.
"How many times have I told you not to bring your friends home?" said Gypsy.
"He's not a friend, he's a newcomer," said Tom.
"Oh. Well. Carry on," said Gypsy snaking her way down the corridor. I had to step over her body to get past her. I found myself in the ship's sleeping quarters. There was junk all over the place -- this I was used to -- and I was in no way going to be the one to celan this mess up. The red Bot hovered through another doorway humming a little tune I was somewhat familiar with. I suddenly realized that it was Mick Jagger's Satisfaction.
There came a scream from around a corner and I ran to see what had happened to the red Bot. There was another Bot, made of gold, and it was sitting on the red one's chest.
"Ha ha!" said the gold Bot. "I told you to stay away from my potato chips, didn't I?"
"Crow," said the red Bot. "I didn't touch your chips!"
"Who's that?" asked Crow, suddenly looking at me. "I didn't know we had any visitors. I'm going to have to tell Mike."
The gold Bot was gone in a flash. My heart started to race. My head was spinning dizzily. Before I knew it, someone was shining a light in my eyes and asking me how I felt. I understood this to be the Mike the gold robot had been referring to. I started to struggle with Mike. He screamed as I was much stronger than he. He was trying to keep my arms down, to prevent me from swallowing my pills.
"Are those pills for your heart?" Mike was asking.
"Yes, my heart," I said. He let me go. And I downed several pills. I soon relaxed.
"Let get him to medical," said Mike, and the two robots assisted him in carrying me in to a large room, and setting me on a table.
I kicked and screamed. Perhaps they thought I was an alien of some sort and were going to perform an autopsy on me, study my insides, place little bits of me into the jars that lined every side of the room.
"Dr. Forrester," Mike was yelling. "Who is this guy you sent up?"
"Ahh," said a familiar voice, "that's Hunter Thompson, otherwise known as The Master of Gonzo Journalism." A man appeared on a monitor.
"He's a madman!" said Mike.
"Most geniuses are madmen," said Forrester. "Take me for example. Don't worry, he's only up there for a little while. I thought I'd just throw a wrench into the gears and see what happens."
"My pills! My pills!" I was screaming now. "Ask Doctor Quark! Bootleg Babies ask the wrong questions! I need some smack!"
"Good heavens," Mike was saying. "Tie him down until he's completely sober."
I broke loose from their grips and grabbed a metal pipe, waving it in front of myself, yelling with great menace! "Don't come near me! I'm armed!"
"Take it easy!" Mike was saying, "We're your friends."
Friends? I paused at the word, but, soon understood what their game was, they were trying to calm me into submission so they could perform ugly experiments on my body. I swung the pipe around shattering several jars.
"That's acid, Mike, it'll eat through the hull," the gold robot was saying.
"Forrester, get him off the ship! He'll destroy everything!" Mike was waving his arms around.
"Okay, okay," said Forrester. "Emergency measures will be taken! I said this was a bad idea, why did I ever listen to you?"
"Me?" said Frank, entering the frame. "What did I do?"
The vessel shook, or rather the walls were shaking. Then we heard the clank clank clanking sounds of something large coming down the corridor. A gigantic monstrosity of a robot entered medical and reached out to grab me. I evaded its grasp and ran out of medical and down the corridors. It chased me, this rather large Bot, and cornered me. Grabbing me about the arms it led me to an area of the ship marked OFF LIMITS. Two large doors opened and shut behind us. The Bot shoved me into another space pod and shut the hatchway behind me. As I looked though the portal I saw a hatchway rise upwards and the stars in space shing brighter than I had ever imagined. The pod took off into the darkness, entered the Earth's atmosphere, and set me down in a clearing. The hatch opened and I jumped out. The pod took off, leaving me there. Then all was silent.
There was simply no way to explain the experience other than to say I'd had a bad trip. That was not cocaine I had snorted, it had been ... something else ... something out of this world.