Death death

We were walking down the streets of Paris so I say “I’ve been here, I think” and as a reply my friends (who will leave me soon) mumble something incoherent. We walk around the corner and line up in the garden with gates for an upstairs party twenty floors high. People are shouting and a woman I know but with a moustache this time was there, and it wasn’t a feminine moustache it was a big bushy muttonchop thing, it looked good on her.

Later I was talking to a friend and he said pretty certain that I looked like I was hopped up on go. Which makes sense as all I can do is forget.

I lost my shoe but it reappeared, not black this time but both were salmon and I didn’t mind because people were already causing havoc. And I was making it in! But this nasty guy and all his buddies were at the door. I say hey and move the hell along because this guy doesn’t have nothing decent to make of himself, just violence, volume and abuse.

So I keep the story rolling and make it up to the party though I never Catch up with my buddies after that point and that’s alright because making new friends whacked out, hopped up and z-z-zonked is always pretty fun.

Not truly but most clearly the next thing I remember I was in a car squashed squished to the sides I look around and there’s the bad guy.

Next thing I remember we’re in the back of this big rickety trickety truck with the door open and the trailer open and a friend is here! But company is still unpleasant. We must of been overloading because this idea is terrible and I’m not sure if I’m still having fun. I go to the corner and stay. Vibe in the corner and stay. No way! That is a big colourful thing, extremely heavy and not tied down like it’s ready to fly out and take one of us with it. So one of the big baddies (I remember him being slightly more understanding) chucks the whole thing out as if it’s a big soon to be paint on the road; wooden colours, painted wood blue, red, green, yellow, blue all there all everywhere. And the madman shouts! He dances with glee nearly doing a jingle out of the truck and into a graveyard.

My friend tries to congratulate the big man but the biggie steps back and slips holding on by a thread well a finger he sings out help me help me in a drastic lullaby. Sam tries to move but is stuck scared to lend a hand might he share the same fate and the nasty guys sitting closest to the cab watching it all not moving a muscle. I remember yelling save him but that’s all I could do and my friend well he called an ambulance while looking the dying man in his eyes.

‘That’s the second to die tonight’ I think while grasping at straws who else could have faltered except that other baddie in a guard dog’s jaws.

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