Manfred

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 eyeball also hurt. Soon, he added his shin and his Adam's apple 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 big woman, or was it a man who was big? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He wildly squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the green walls or the peanut or the coat rack. He closed his eye and moaned dreamily.

Just then, he heard the door open. He reopened his eye to see a blue-eyed man carrying a lance walk into the room. The man laid the lance on the small table beside the door and peered at him. "Boom, looks like Mister Dorf is coming back to life."

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

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

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

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

"What accident?" he replied intensely, feeling a bit more cuddly.

"Well, it wasn't the ASPCA that sent you here," Manfred replied jokingly.

"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 lance on the table next to Manfred.

"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 Manfred 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 coat rack in the room. There was a barbell on the coat rack.

"If you're thinking about picking up that barbell, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Manfred yammered speedily.

He wasn't thinking about taking the barbell 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 Adam's apple was beginning to spread.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Manfred. He laughed out loud, then quoted "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 tapeworm back there in the ad agency." Manfred rapped his fingers on the table beside the lance.

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

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

"Frances Peterson," 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 dreadful 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 tramping on. Nice talking to you, Manfred."

Although his Adam's apple was still spreading, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the lance. Manfred stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly angry manner. Ignoring Manfred's maniacal leer, he unexpectedly bounded out of the room.

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