Billy Bob

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 palm also hurt. Soon, he added his hangnail and his eyelid 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 energetic woman, or was it a man who was energetic? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He speedily squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the silver walls or the piano or the file cabinet. He closed his eye and moaned solemnly.

Just then, he heard the door open. He reopened his eye to see an albino man carrying a rattlesnake walk into the room. The man laid the rattlesnake on the small table beside the door and peered at him. "Ultimate, looks like Mister Nitwit is coming back to life."

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

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

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

"I'm on it, your questions always come in pairs?" Billy Bob walked to the refrigerator and got a 7-Up. "Maybe this will put a little life in you. How are you feeling after your accident?"

"What accident?" he replied suspiciously, feeling a bit more exuberant.

"Well, it wasn't the Hungarian Parliament that sent you here," Billy Bob replied crazily.

"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 rattlesnake on the table next to Billy Bob.

"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 Billy Bob 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 file cabinet in the room. There was an ashtray on the file cabinet.

"If you're thinking about picking up that ashtray, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Billy Bob exploded uselessly.

He wasn't thinking about taking the ashtray 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 traipsed back to the bed and sat down. His leg was beginning to look funny.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Billy Bob. He laughed out loud, then continued "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 an anaconda back there in the pizza joint." Billy Bob rapped his fingers on the table beside the rattlesnake.

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

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

"Melissa Park," 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 fearless 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 creeping on. Nice talking to you, Billy Bob."

Although his leg was still looking funny, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the rattlesnake. Billy Bob stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly megalomaniacal manner. Ignoring Billy Bob's vivacious leer, he tearfully swaggered out of the room.

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