Russ again.
‘They had a fight or something. He was yelling at her before.’
‘Women.’
‘Oh come on, Beck’s all right. Jacko can be a real arsehole sometimes. Doesn’t know how to treat a woman like I do.’
‘Yeah right, Douggie the Sex God. Don’t get started.’
Everyone was in the lounge room, some at the table by the window with Jacko and Beck, pulling cones in the skull bong, playing cards and drinking rum from thebottle. The rest were hanging around the couch where the bucket bong was in action, some poor fella coughing his guts out like he was going to cark it. Steve and me squashed in together on one of the couch’s red vinyl arms and waited our turn. A tidemark of black slime and green specks was smeared half way up the cut off plastic bottle that was slowly being pulled out of the water and filling with smoke. It smelt good, familiar. Safe.
The telly was on but with the sound down. The zombies on the screen seemed to be marching in time to the AC/DC on the stereo. A whole pile of other DVDs with bloody covers were on the floor for later. Jacko loves horror shows.
There were a few girls hanging around. Beck, but she was glued to Jacko’s side and off limits. Her friend, Angie, but she was with that big Goth, Jase. There were a few new faces too, not bad some of them, though they were all sucking up to that poofter Pete.
But anyway, tonight was for the fellas. A tripping party. Men together, off our faces. It was a special night. I could feel it. The trip in my guts was my chance to prove that I wasn’t a fucking mad bastard anymore. I was just like all of them. One of the gang again.
Half an hour later, Steve and I were rolling on the floor, pissing ourselves. We’d had a couple of buckets, but when I looked at the cigarette burns in the floral carpet and they started to swirl and go all psychedelic like an album cover, I knew I was tripping.
‘Hey Steve, I think it’s happening.’
‘Yeah man. Check out the curtains.’
We laughed and spun around in circles till everything was a crazy mixed up whirl, like a rainbow cake mix. In the bottom of the kitchen cupboard we found the tinfoil and made ourselves space hats and ran around the house pretending to zap each other. Jacko got pissed off with us making too much noise and getting in the way of theTV, so he shoved us out into the front yard and told me to shut up or they wouldn’t let me back in.
It was great outside. The stars were like sparklers and when the Taubmans’ paint factory sign came on across the road in red and blue, it was like an outer space sunset or something. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Then my head started to go really weird on me. All the colours got too much. I couldn’t see the real shape of things anymore and Steve’s face seemed to be melting. He changed into one of those freaky zombies. Barking dogs’ heads were sprouting from my legs. The grass was too pointy under my feet. My tongue felt swollen. Too big for my mouth.
I started to pull at it, but it didn’t feel like my tongue anymore, not a part of me. An alien or zombie or something had possessed me and turned into a huge slimy slug growing in my mouth. I tugged at it and clawed but I couldn’t get it out. Stevetried to stop me but I punched him away. Or was it him? I screamed.
Steve came back with Brian who grabbed my arms, pinned them behind my back, pushed me into the house and onto the couch and shouted at me, ‘Just stay there, and don’t do anything else stupid. I told you you’d freak out. Shit.’ And then went back to the table to pull cones.
Steve sat next to me but I didn’t want him to. Well I did but I didn’t. I was scared to be by myself but I knew I couldn’t trust him. It was like I could see inside people to what they really were, slugs or zombies. Monsters. I tried to focus, keep my head from turning itself inside out, by staring at the TV, though I couldn’t see a picture – only the red and blue and yellow
‘They had a fight or something. He was yelling at her before.’
‘Women.’
‘Oh come on, Beck’s all right. Jacko can be a real arsehole sometimes. Doesn’t know how to treat a woman like I do.’
‘Yeah right, Douggie the Sex God. Don’t get started.’
Everyone was in the lounge room, some at the table by the window with Jacko and Beck, pulling cones in the skull bong, playing cards and drinking rum from thebottle. The rest were hanging around the couch where the bucket bong was in action, some poor fella coughing his guts out like he was going to cark it. Steve and me squashed in together on one of the couch’s red vinyl arms and waited our turn. A tidemark of black slime and green specks was smeared half way up the cut off plastic bottle that was slowly being pulled out of the water and filling with smoke. It smelt good, familiar. Safe.
The telly was on but with the sound down. The zombies on the screen seemed to be marching in time to the AC/DC on the stereo. A whole pile of other DVDs with bloody covers were on the floor for later. Jacko loves horror shows.
There were a few girls hanging around. Beck, but she was glued to Jacko’s side and off limits. Her friend, Angie, but she was with that big Goth, Jase. There were a few new faces too, not bad some of them, though they were all sucking up to that poofter Pete.
But anyway, tonight was for the fellas. A tripping party. Men together, off our faces. It was a special night. I could feel it. The trip in my guts was my chance to prove that I wasn’t a fucking mad bastard anymore. I was just like all of them. One of the gang again.
Half an hour later, Steve and I were rolling on the floor, pissing ourselves. We’d had a couple of buckets, but when I looked at the cigarette burns in the floral carpet and they started to swirl and go all psychedelic like an album cover, I knew I was tripping.
‘Hey Steve, I think it’s happening.’
‘Yeah man. Check out the curtains.’
We laughed and spun around in circles till everything was a crazy mixed up whirl, like a rainbow cake mix. In the bottom of the kitchen cupboard we found the tinfoil and made ourselves space hats and ran around the house pretending to zap each other. Jacko got pissed off with us making too much noise and getting in the way of theTV, so he shoved us out into the front yard and told me to shut up or they wouldn’t let me back in.
It was great outside. The stars were like sparklers and when the Taubmans’ paint factory sign came on across the road in red and blue, it was like an outer space sunset or something. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Then my head started to go really weird on me. All the colours got too much. I couldn’t see the real shape of things anymore and Steve’s face seemed to be melting. He changed into one of those freaky zombies. Barking dogs’ heads were sprouting from my legs. The grass was too pointy under my feet. My tongue felt swollen. Too big for my mouth.
I started to pull at it, but it didn’t feel like my tongue anymore, not a part of me. An alien or zombie or something had possessed me and turned into a huge slimy slug growing in my mouth. I tugged at it and clawed but I couldn’t get it out. Stevetried to stop me but I punched him away. Or was it him? I screamed.
Steve came back with Brian who grabbed my arms, pinned them behind my back, pushed me into the house and onto the couch and shouted at me, ‘Just stay there, and don’t do anything else stupid. I told you you’d freak out. Shit.’ And then went back to the table to pull cones.
Steve sat next to me but I didn’t want him to. Well I did but I didn’t. I was scared to be by myself but I knew I couldn’t trust him. It was like I could see inside people to what they really were, slugs or zombies. Monsters. I tried to focus, keep my head from turning itself inside out, by staring at the TV, though I couldn’t see a picture – only the red and blue and yellow
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