Rick

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 kidney also hurt. Soon, he added his hairdo and his foot 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 brash woman, or was it a man who was brash? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He wryly squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the grey walls or the cupcake or the dishwasher. He closed his eye and moaned glibly.

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

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

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

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

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

"What accident?" he replied coldly, feeling a bit more creepy.

"Well, it wasn't Alcoholics Anonymous that sent you here," Rick replied offhandedly.

"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 butterfly net on the table next to Rick.

"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 Rick 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 dishwasher in the room. There was a dead Guinea pig on the dishwasher.

"If you're thinking about picking up that dead Guinea pig, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Rick smiled madly.

He wasn't thinking about taking the dead Guinea pig 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 lumbered back to the bed and sat down. His antenna was beginning to bend.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Rick. He laughed out loud, then taunted "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 dodo bird back there in the supermarket." Rick rapped his fingers on the table beside the butterfly net.

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

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

"Allan Justice," 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 polite 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 reeling on. Nice talking to you, Rick."

Although his antenna was still bending, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the butterfly net. Rick stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly lethargic manner. Ignoring Rick's unruffled leer, he perkily galumphed out of the room.

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