Will

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 midriff also hurt. Soon, he added his larynx and his wig 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 an athletic woman, or was it a man who was athletic? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He daintily squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the terra cotta walls or the ingot of plutonium or the bed. He closed his eye and moaned woefully.

Just then, he heard the door open. He reopened his eye to see a bald man carrying a rubber band walk into the room. The man laid the rubber band on the small table beside the door and peered at him. "Ho ho, looks like Mister Louse is coming back to life."

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

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

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

"Cool beans, your questions always come in pairs?" Will walked to the refrigerator and got a hot toddy. "Maybe this will put a little life in you. How are you feeling after your accident?"

"What accident?" he replied anxiously, feeling a bit more puzzled.

"Well, it wasn't the National Endowment for the Preservation of Cigarette lighters that sent you here," Will replied sheepishly.

"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 rubber band on the table next to Will.

"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 Will 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 bed in the room. There was a hammer on the bed.

"If you're thinking about picking up that hammer, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Will screeched hopelessly.

He wasn't thinking about taking the hammer 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 sailed back to the bed and sat down. His hip was beginning to rise.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Will. He laughed out loud, then professed "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 mosquito back there in the pizza joint." Will rapped his fingers on the table beside the rubber band.

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

"You tripped on a Rubik's cube. You took a bad fall. Who is this friend you were looking for?"

"Annabelle Funk," 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 an adorable 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 slithering on. Nice talking to you, Will."

Although his hip was still rising, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the rubber band. Will stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly bald manner. Ignoring Will's big leer, he vacantly tore out of the room.

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