Mr. Maldark is sitting in what's left of his kitchen. he tries to sip but he can't swallow. the too-long shirt which has accompanied him thus far on his journey, used variously to clothe him and dab the bacon grease off the treats he feeds his cats, catches on the coffee. in a moment of needing comfort his cats are ever-present. they never stray too far from his station. they're always there round the bend if something catches their corner glare. ready to pounce on the action. his two purple baby lynxes jump at the same time onto his laps and hit each other with the other's head and do a flip they weren't counting on and land on their feet. as if they had evolved a natural safety net, invisible but always there to catch them. their tails shake violently and move to an upward point jerkily guided by a static field invisible to everyone in nature but them. they meow hard to signal their next attempt and leap into Maldark's furry arms. he greets this bout of happiness with a glee which consumes him. he kisses that gray area of slime between a cat's lips and razor teeth, the tools they use to bite when they show sharp love.
Kelechi: can i talk freely?
Maldark: not if you're using a phone. not in this society. so who won?
Kelechi: Less. poor boy's gone into convulsions. he's sweating bullets. he'll be fine. just nervous as a porcupine in butter.
Maldark: i miss him. i want to get back on the horse but it's like i have a permanent broken leg. there are rings around my legs. giant red welts whose origins i know not of. rings around my wrists as well.
Kelechi: shower.
Maldark: it hurts to shower.
Kelechi: well that's a new one for artists. it's not just about looking good on dates, it's about hygiene, man.
Maldark: no, the rings. they hurt like hell. they are weighing me down like invisible chains. i need you to go shopping for me.
Kelechi: it's been two weeks already? hell naw. i was thinking this could be more of a date. work date, so we can function better at work. with less awkward moments. we'll be like brother and sister at the office.
Maldark: no. i went shopping yesterday. here's what happened. when i go there, all i could think about was how my life had changed. for the forever. i would never be the same carefree, happy-go-lucky guy who could splurge on dairy products and spend a little too much on garden salads again.
Kelechi: ain't never see me splurge on crackers.
Maldark: my money situation was like a leaky garden hose, i knew it was there and it needed to be patched up but it didn't really matter. it was just water. it was just money. but now i am forced to count every penny. my fingers have become pincers. i pinch not asses but coins.
Kelechi: no more coinslots.
Maldark: my financial situation is not a fountain anymore. every item i clear the shelves i clear in my mind, running a running tally of that tiny white paper with my line-items. do i veto veggies in favor of fruits? but do i really need that can of carbonated pear soda? should i get everything in bulk? am i shopping in the wrong store? should I shop at Costco? can i get the ice cream without the waffle cones? is ice cream an essential food group?
Kelechi: dessert cleanses the palate. it's healthy.
Maldark: as i pace about the aisles in a reverse zigzag it dawns on me that i can't decide. every food comes with a price. i won't buy anything. i am on an eternal budget. i will never have enough. but i have meow mouths to feed. i will starve to make them happy. my two cats are all that matter to me in this world. i replace each and every item i take from the shelf like a common burglar and rest it in its proper place. in its place i buy cat food. wet and dry cat food. all brands. did you know Paul Newman makes dog food? and cat food i learnt, it was down the hall, for a second there i thought Paul was a catphobe and only did dogs. i fill my large shopping cart with so much cat food there is for once space underneath the cart where i usually put the heavy clunky 50-pound orange bag of cat food.
Kelechi: you are a hopeless case, my dear.
Maldark: i am so sad i don't fill out the form to get the card to get the savings. i hate signing papers. i am sad when i think about my cats. they are helpless creatures. they will always be in the wild even though they have a home. they are 100% dependent on me or any other human feeding them. if i don't get their food, physically get out to buy their food from an alien location that is not their home, they starve. they can't pick up their paws and drive themselves. i get home late at night and the radio is on static. i cry into the heads of my cats. i lower them into the cradle of their heads over my shoulders. they drink my tears as they would their usual water bowl in the morning. and they yawn contentedly.
Kelechi: you made me sigh. okay. but i'm splurging, man. i got no chains on me. ain't nuttin stopping me. i'm gonna be late. i want to try that Pat's King of Steaks that just opened up down the bend around the corner of the RadioShack.
Maldark: the one with the trash can where Stefon lives?
______________________________
President Bump is pacing around the Cream House hands behind his back holding the remote.
Bump: little does the media know i watch all my tv on my watch.
the Mooch: are you fuming today, sir?
Bump: no, that's your job. fumigate the windows, too, they're getting dusty. oh, and btw, i feel like eating some Greek tonight.
the Mooch: btw?
Bump circles the portico of cute pebbles in the front lawn and declares himself the King of Rock and Roll but the big fuzzy mic wasn't on.
Bump raises his hands to the clouds and looks up to the sky with a wink.
Bump: alright, Bob, yous got me. i surrender. BOO!
Mueller dashes from out of the bushes and hits his head on the fuzzy mic.
Mueller: is this some sort of trick? you're raising a hand to me. you want to fight? you want to do this right here right now? without a wrestling ring?
Bump: the world is one big flat octagon.
Mueller: i just masturbated so i'm a little depowered at the moment but let's dance.
Bump: i'm not here to fight you, Bob. i'm showing you my unclenched arms. aren't they lovely? silky for an old man. drop the grey cuffs on 'em.
Mueller: i don't want to win like this. it's too easy. Zenigata doesn't actually want to catch Lupin. the chase is meat and the writing of new law is potatoes, the rest is existential. i want this to go on for a long time.
Bump: go on. the ultimate perp walk down the Cream House driveway. i'll even whistle while you do it. slap me harder. this is what America wants to see, right? it'll get dynamite ratings.
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