Matt

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 hairdo also hurt. Soon, he added his hairdo and his thorax 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 cautious woman, or was it a man who was cautious? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He sarcastically squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the maroon walls or the cookbook or the billiard table. He closed his eye and moaned stupidly.

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

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

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

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

"Aha, your questions always come in pairs?" Matt walked to the refrigerator and got a Manhattan. "Maybe this will put a little life in you. How are you feeling after your accident?"

"What accident?" he replied lightly, feeling a bit more slimy.

"Well, it wasn't the Fire Department that sent you here," Matt replied solemnly.

"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 pillow on the table next to Matt.

"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 Matt 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 billiard table in the room. There was a carrot on the billiard table.

"If you're thinking about picking up that carrot, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Matt noted suddenly.

He wasn't thinking about taking the carrot 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 slumped back to the bed and sat down. His midriff was beginning to go to pieces.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Matt. He laughed out loud, then tittered "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 manatee back there in the novelty shop." Matt rapped his fingers on the table beside the pillow.

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

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

"Mama Panzer," 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 grizzled 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 going on. Nice talking to you, Matt."

Although his midriff was still going to pieces, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the pillow. Matt stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly blubbery manner. Ignoring Matt's sarcastic leer, he merrily blundered out of the room.

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