Tex

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 bicep also hurt. Soon, he added his claw and his mouth 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 phlegmatic woman, or was it a man who was phlegmatic? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He furiously squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the polka dotted walls or the Happy Meal or the TV. He closed his eye and moaned brightly.

Just then, he heard the door open. He reopened his eye to see a ruddy man carrying a bad breath walk into the room. The man laid the bad breath on the small table beside the door and peered at him. "By all the saints, looks like Mister Ding dong is coming back to life."

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

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

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

"Yummy, your questions always come in pairs?" Tex walked to the refrigerator and got a cup of eggnog. "Maybe this will put a little life in you. How are you feeling after your accident?"

"What accident?" he replied ignobly, feeling a bit more weary.

"Well, it wasn't the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster that sent you here," Tex replied lovingly.

"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 bad breath on the table next to Tex.

"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 Tex 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 TV in the room. There was a bag on the TV.

"If you're thinking about picking up that bag, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Tex wept fervently.

He wasn't thinking about taking the bag 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 dashed back to the bed and sat down. His eyelash was beginning to come loose.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Tex. He laughed out loud, then whispered "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 banana slug back there in the novelty shop." Tex rapped his fingers on the table beside the bad breath.

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

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

"Karen Barton," 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 gallant 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 flouncing on. Nice talking to you, Tex."

Although his eyelash was still coming loose, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the bad breath. Tex stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly relaxed manner. Ignoring Tex's furry leer, he roughly cantered out of the room.

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