I was cruel and I was tender, and I liked it. But I was run-down. I even caught myself thinking that maybe instead of taking, a trip I should spend some time at home on Gasworks, and I had to ask Bohler to kindly clout me a few times with his rosary, see if that’d clear my mind. He was more than happy to oblige, but added, listen, Potok, dear friend, that sparkling nugget over there in the creek, the one deaf Micka’s drivin by in his singin mobile at this very moment, informed me that my pseudodroog, the gallant actor Potok, would prefer to hole up in his place an fear life with great dread.
My dearest buddy Bohler, despite all your time behind bars, I said, turning a wee bit red and uncertain, I swear, you speak the absolute truth, an I can see you’ve got the great gift of seein into the human soul.
Bohler nodded. I understand, pal, sometimes I too lock myself in a momentarily free room, never the one with the altar, an emphatically ask my Lady Laos for peace an quiet, an sit by myself, an indulge my thoughts an emotions.
You’re right, my clever theologian, our pals’re in byznys an they’re doin a brilliant job of keepin the treadmill runnin, but maybe the two of us’re a little cracked … you’re a scholar of Scripture, an in the course of your daily an nightly wanderings you’ve gotten a glimpse into the endlessness of human suffering … through the open gate into the place where souls howl in various degrees of terror an confusion … an me, I’m just an outstanding actor who also knows how to act an dance off the boards of the cruel old crazy real world, I can move inside people an with people, an create an act out characters to the point of total exhaustion an eclipse … in other words, we know it, an all this byznys stuff is just another form of motion.
Yeh, yeh, you put that pretty elegant, brother … said Bohler … for an actor.
And then we pulled into another town, picturing the new private dives and touring a few attractive developing or foundering private byznysses, and even squeezing in a few bolshevik monuments, and then we picked a hotel and began having fun. And it happened to me, later on, in my room.
I was with our pseudodroogina Táña, coincidentally a blonde, known as Elsa the Lion to a close circle of friends, and she was very kind and beautiful, and relatively gentle as well.
Except then it happened, and I demolished the room a little, cause all of a sudden I realized that the floor of the room was sloped and we were slipping down it, and instead of the pretty face of Elsa the Lion I was looking into the repulsive snout of a hound with jaundiced fangs, and a voice ripped into my brain: Caution: Slippery slope! and on one side the floor actually started to rise and on the other side was a trapdoor. I got a glimpse inside, and I think I saw flickering flames and heard a suspicious metallic grinding, like spits rotating around. The hideous dog started growling at me and rolling around on the bed in a puddle of its own vomit, and I realized my Little White She-Dog, wherever she was out there, probably wasn’t doing too great. I attempted to calm the fiendish cur, but letting out a menacing growl he tried to slash my belly open, and then he began to grow, bigger and bigger, crowding me toward the trapdoor, and then I heard: Caution: Slippery slope! and I couldn’t back up anymore, and as I groped for the blade in my pocket the dog fixed me with burning eyes, trying to pierce right through me, going for my heart. Desperate, I tried to do a dance and summon up my power and She-Dog’s words from out there where she was suffering, something evil was happening to her … I could sense it … but the beast took up so much of the room I couldn’t do even an ankle dance, couldn’t even move my heels … and as I finally got hold of the blade I heard it a third time: Caution: Slippery slope! and something clamped down on me.
We caught you just in time, man, you woulda slashed her up. Luckily you were screamin so loud we heard you, even Micka, my boss and buddy David explained after approximately twenty hours of piercing darkness.
You probly oughta see Doctor Hradil about a vacation. Ah bullshit, there’s too much work right now, I objected. There’s always too much, said David. We’ll see, but I got a feelin it’d be a good combination. We won’t talk about any major or minor operations yet, dear Potok, said the boss. Nothing to object to there of course. An anyway what really got Táña mad was you kept callin her a dog, said Micka. I mean every little kid knows that she’s a lion, added the brilliantly acclimatized Sharky. My mistake, I was thinkin of She-Dog, I corrected myself nonsensically.
Táña, dear Táña, lemme make it up to you, I pleaded with my somewhat battered and slightly slashed pseudodroogina. At least lemme set you up an account so you won’t hafta punch the clock for a while. Well, all right … but still … even if you aren’t the absolutely totally worst dancer, you probly oughta find some other pseudodroogina to take along on your next trip … outta the question, I said, tonight I wanna be with you, that was just an evil spell, we gotta test if it’s back to normal now. That was my argument, and Bohler solemnly nodded in agreement.