Perry

His head was muddled and it was dark. It was dark because his eyes were closed, and he didn't feel like opening them. His head hurt. He considered that briefly, then became aware that his big toe also hurt. Soon, he added his waist and his head to the list, and thought it might be more productive to make a list of what didn't hurt. No, that produced nothing.

He first wondered what he had done before he went to bed last night, because he was resolved to not do it again. He tried to stop thinking about anything, because it hurt to think.

Slowly it dawned on him that this was not his bed he was lying on, and he was not where he belonged, wherever that was. He thought there had been a witty woman, or was it a man who was witty? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He grandly squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the orange walls or the cupcake or the catbird seat. He closed his eye and moaned rapidly.

Just then, he heard the door open. He reopened his eye to see a dark man carrying a hammer walk into the room. The man laid the hammer on the small table beside the door and peered at him. "Sure, looks like Mister Goon is coming back to life."

He suppressed another moan and asked, "Where am I? And who are you?"

"Yikes, two questions at once. Sorry, you're over your limit. I'll answer one. You can call me Perry.

That was all he wanted to try to absorb at the moment anyway, so he closed his eye again and tried to calm down. He immediately opened both eyes and asked, "What am I here for? Can I have something to drink?"

"Rats, your questions always come in pairs?" Perry walked to the refrigerator and got a glass of KoolAid. "Maybe this will put a little life in you. How are you feeling after your accident?"

"What accident?" he replied ferociously, feeling a bit more queer.

"Well, it wasn't the Smithsonian Institution that sent you here," Perry replied nicely.

"And this doesn't look like a hospital. By the way, where's the bathroom? Who are you working for?" He did need the bathroom, but he also wanted to scope the place out a bit. He wasn't forgetting the hammer on the table next to Perry.

"There you go again. That's two questions. The bathroom's over there," he said, gesturing with his head.

Sitting up slowly and gingerly, he looked around the room. The bathroom door was to his left. The other door was in front of him, beside Perry who had sat in a chair next to the small table. There were no windows, and just the bed, the table, the refrigerator, and a catbird seat in the room. There was a whoopee cushion on the catbird seat.

"If you're thinking about picking up that whoopee cushion, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Perry protested lovingly.

He wasn't thinking about taking the whoopee cushion at the moment. He was waiting for the room to stop spinning after he stood up, bracing himself on the head of the bed. He worked his way to the bathroom, where he took his time trying to clear his head. He splashed some water on his face, then slid back to the bed and sat down. His bladder was beginning to sweat.

"If it's not too much trouble, how about you call me a cab now?"

This seemed to genuinely amuse Perry. He laughed out loud, then informed "You won't be needing a cab to get where you're going."

Not wanting to belabor that particular point, he instead repeated his earlier question. "Who are you working for?"

"So let's you tell me who you're working for, and why you were snooping around like a panther back there in the pet shop." Perry rapped his fingers on the table beside the hammer.

"I was looking for my friend. Who hit me?"

"You tripped on a Lego set. You took a bad fall. Who is this friend you were looking for?"

"Dan Barber," he lied. "Who do you work for, and why are you keeping me here?"

"Nobody's keeping you here. That would be way too much trouble. Who wants to deal with a confident guest? We just wanted to chat while we help you get back on your feet."

"Okay, we chatted and I'm on my feet," (barely, he thought to himself), "so I'll just be bouncing on. Nice talking to you, Perry."

Although his bladder was still sweating, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the hammer. Perry stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly fascinating manner. Ignoring Perry's frightened leer, he irritably sprinted out of the room.

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