The Emerald Burrito of Oz by John Skipp

Author:John Skipp [Skipp, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Babbage Press
Published: 0100-12-31T22:00:00+00:00

That second morning, waking, I held my eyes shut; I was a blank.

Has this ever happened to you? You wake, in a strange place or not, and can't remember anything for a second or two. Where you are, or who you are. It is terrifying and freeing all at once.

It all came back to me, of course, and then I felt truly strange. I heard the sounds of that strange city coming awake: horses' hooves, and the clacking hooves of other animals with more legs and stranger gaits, steam hissing and sellers announcing their wares.

The memory blip put me in mind of a computer looking for its operating system when it boots up. And that in turn made me wonder if I was much different from the little guy inhabiting my Superbook. I mean, it's some kind of soul, or spirit living inside of a machine, taking on its attributes, its identity. Was my little lapse waking some kind of glimpse of raw "me-ness"? Are we all just anonymous souls with identities defined by our locations in meat?

These are the kinds of things I think about when I first wake up. Which probably explains why I'm so high strung, and also why I can't get out of bed in the morning.

But Aurora wasn't having any of that.

"Okay, boys! Up 'n' at 'em!" she crowed. I stirred a little. I guess it wasn't enough.

Next thing I knew, a metal pot and metal spoon were clanging together, a foot from my head. "AAAUGH.///" I said, and looked up blearily. There she was, looking beautiful and crazy; her smile was wild, but her eyes meant business.

"Gene, Ralph: get your asses out of bed, okay?" she said. "I'm not just whistlin' Dixie here. Ozma wants to see us, and time's a wastin'."

"Fuck," mumbled Ralph, from his place on the couch. I glanced over at him. Ralph had seen better days. He looked like the official poster bum for the Pink Eye Foundation, only not quite as glamorous.

"Fuck is right," said Aurora, walking over to him. "Mr. Ralph Fucking SuperSpy Dudley." She was wearing nothing but an extra large Bullwinkle t-shirt. Possibly panties. It was all the armor she needed. "Right now, I don't know whether to shake your hand or kick your stupid ass. But I'll tell you what: this would be a really good morning for you to be especially nice."

Ralph nodded slightly. It looked like the gesture was painful. She put down the pot and spoon and picked up some weird aspirin. She had two water glasses on a table, and she offered one to him, along with some aspirin, which he silently accepted.

Then she came back to me with her insta-headache cure, knelt before me, and handed them over. "How you doin', sweetie?" she asked. Her eyes were full of soul.

"I don't know yet."

"Fair enough." She took me gently by the temples, bent me forward, kissed the top of my head, and stood. I saw pubic hair, and averted my eyes. "I'll get breakfast together.

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