A mid-sized auditorium filled with darkness and empty chairs opened its doors and let in a rush of frantic elderly drunkards. They each scrambled through the aisles hoping to find a seat that had at least three legs, very few of them ending up with that luxury. It didn’t take long for them all to sit and calm down, and once they had settled, there was a deathly quiet. A few of them creepily eyed the others from the far sides of their vision, whilst the most of them stared straight ahead, still as a dead sea. Then, like the first wave in a storm, one of them stood and spoke:

"John and Steve sat on opposite ends of a teeter-totter. Up, down, up, down. They’d been doing this for quite a while, and had gotten a rhythm and speed down that was utterly fantastic. John was a thirty-five year old accountant for a fast food franchise who loved candlelight dinners and carnivals, and Steve was unemployed and nearing forty. They were both very generic looking, except this huge disgusting thing on Steve’s right elbow that I won’t bore you with a description of. They were talking about things like candy and toys, when Steve suddenly blasted off into space like a little Steve-shaped rocket. John’s eyes followed his friend until he was out of sight and the distance had deadened his screaming.

"‘Hey, Steve?’

"No answer.

"It became immediately apparent to John that a teeter-totter with only one person on it is very little fun, so he stood up and walked to the sandbox, where Susie was playing. Sand, man, it’d never go blast off without notice like Steve did."

"Meanwhile, Steve soared through the air and into space, speeding up as he went. After a few minutes he stopped screaming. At first it was scary, but he noticed that it was okay because he was almost forty so he could handle it. Stars flitted past him at incredible speeds as he dove headfirst into the cosmos. He said ‘wow,’ because he was really amazed by the whole thing.

"Soon he slowed down and he thought it felt like he was in a tour bus for the universe. He could see each and every star as he drifted past them. They were so much smaller than he thought they should be. What he soon found was that they weren’t stars at all, but really just small white pianos.

"‘That creates more questions than it answers,’ he said, then decided to stop talking because he was all alone and people might make fun of him for talking to himself. Despite all that ‘names will never hurt me’ stuff, Steve did not like to be made fun of, especially if it could be avoided. He looked around, eyeing all the floating pianos. He couldn’t play, but he thought that if he could, he would be in some sort of a heaven-like place because there were a lot of pianos that he would be able to play. There were a heck of a lot of pianos. He figured that if he had some way of making money off of them, he would get rich. Very rich, perhaps. Man, there were a lot of pianos. If pianos were like rooms in a house, then the house of space would be quite large and would contain many rooms. Almost as many, he thought, as there are pianos in space. One of the pianos opened, and there was a waffle-maker inside. It too opened, and Steve was sucked in."

"Reverse meanwhile, John had gotten tired by way of his continuous playing in the park, and he decided to go home. He tried to stand up, but found that his body was pinned down! He couldn’t move anything but his head, and immediately the acidic taste of fear nipped at the back of his throat. His eyes blinked chunkily as he tried and tried again to swallow his anxiety. He started to hyperventilate due to his exaggerated breathing, the lack of oxygen draining the feeling from his appendages. He tried to scream, but had worked himself up so much that anything outside of breathing was deemed unsafe by his body. He lay there motionless as his life flashed past his eyes: going to school, his first fishing trip, his first kiss, graduation from high school, his first kiss with something other than a fish, getting buried in the sand box, fearing a slow dea--- wait. Buried in the sandbox?

"‘Oh, yeah.’ He looked around. ‘Susie? Will you help un-bury me? Thanks.’"

"Mean-meanwhile, Steve was being forced through a waffle-maker transport channel with a tension that made him feel as though he was being turned inside-out repeatedly, but not really. This process was even less pleasant than being shot in the face over and over again. Before too long (or perhaps afterwards; Steve’s perception of space and time was skewed to incredible proportions (or perhaps very credible ones; he couldn’t tell anymore)), he spat out on the other side, confused and increasingly aware that he had no idea where the nearest bathroom was. His surroundings were purely black, but with a thick light somehow radiating from each object he could see (mostly the piano/waffle-maker composites). A lively man dressed in steward-like garb popped out from nowhere, yet still seemed to stay inside of nowhere, and still was definitely not somewhere. His pants and jacket were green, his shirt was yellow, and his bow tie was a brilliant red. He had short dark hair, a mustache, and a nose on each knee (all the better to smell you with, my dear!). He looked rather like a cartoon and he carried a towel.

"‘The Waiter has expressed a desire for you to be in his company while he bathes his cats,’ he said."

"Back in the other meanwhile, John had been freed from his gritty confinement and was walking to his house. Or, I suppose I should say, driving, since that’s what he was actually doing. In fact, it plays quite an important part in the plot. He was a bad driver, an amiably horrific driver. He always drove on the wrong side of the road, unless he saw a group of people walking along the other side, in which case he would intentionally hit them with his car and drive over their bodies. It wasn’t that he didn’t like people, or that he wasn’t careful, it was different. He had been hired by the government to kill gangs as a special breed of peace officer, or at least he liked to think so.

"As he drove he watched the world go by. It was loud and active. He thought of all the people living there, and about all the variables that seemed to gather in one place and time, one existence, creating the world as he knew it. The organization of reality is truly a marvelous thing, and he found it curious that things would happen such that someone would consciously chose the name ‘Rusty Wiener’ for his or her son.

"He saw a gang. This particular gang was clad in fancy dress suits and shoes that could easily outshine shoes with less of a shine on them than they had. It was a real classy gang, it was. John knew he would be generously rewarded for ‘disposing’ of it. He pulled sharply on the wheel (after having checked his mirrors, etc.) and the gang was instantly startled to a halt at the sound of the chrome on the car scraping against the curb.

"Boom! Bang! Crash! Honk!

"Without a word, the gang was road kill, but John felt an odd sensation that something wasn’t right this time. He stopped the car a few feet away from the pile of death and sat in it for a while (the car, not the pile). No one can know for sure what was going through his mind at that moment, but I’ll take a guess and say that it was probably nothing very important. Whatever it was, though, he decided after a moment that he’d had enough of it, and got out of the car. He looked at all the bodies that had been taken from life because of his big mouth (or, more accurately, his bad driving and corrupt morals) and knew that there was something he was missing. He recognized these people. He reached down and took all of their wallets and pocketed the cash, and as he was throwing one of them down onto the ground he noticed that the ID indicated that the former owner was the leader of Russia! He looked through all of the others, and realized that they were all heads of very prestigious countries, including the good ol’ U.S. of A., except two of them; they were John’s parents. Man, he’d really done it this time."

"Back in the meanwhile that I will now refer to as the ‘not-so-meanwhile’, because Steve must have passed through at least one time zone on his journey, and so the two stories aren’t so perfectly lined up anymore... umm... just a second. I have to remember what I was saying. Oh, yeah. Steve was being escorted to his room in The Waiter’s castle.

"‘Where are we going?’ inquired Steve.

"‘I’m taking you to your room in The Waiter’s castle,’ Matre-Dee answered. It was a relatively uneventful trip, partly because Steve and Matre-Dee didn’t have much in common to talk about, but mostly because I can’t remember what happened. At the end, the castle peered out of the intense space-fog, and Matre-Dee stopped.

"‘This is where I stop,’ said Matre-Dee. ‘I can take you no further. I must now hand you over to my trusted associate and brother: Matre-Dum.’

"Matre-Dum drifted out of the shadowy fog. They all stood there, as if something was going to happen, but nothing was. Matre-Dum looked just like his brother, so much in fact, that Steve couldn’t tell the two apart except for the fact that Matre-Dum was about a foot shorter. Neither of them was moving at the moment; they were stopped, as if frozen in time. Their eyes stared straight forward, even when Steve put his fingers in them. Out from nowhere, a voice echoed (against what, I don’t know) ‘FREE PLAY!’ and happy music started, apparently re-energizing the Matre brothers. But, as does a basketball court at half time, the universe reversed, and Steve stood holding hands now with Matre-Dum, instead of Matre-Dee, and they began toward the castle.

"As they neared it, the flags started to wave and the doors opened, welcoming them.

"‘Welcome,’ they said, and Steve saw that it was good. Matre-Dum led him through the castle, keeping him away from the breakable things and the important people, of which there were many. The inside of the castle was very much like you’d expect the inside of a castle to look: kind of like the outside, only more ‘in’, and there were more decorations. They had tapestries hanging on the walls that had pictures of fnords, each more colorful than the next. Large vases and crystal fountains stood at every corner, exerting a clear sparkle onto the walls. There was a surprising amount going on for such an odd space place. People were running from here to there and back, there were food fights and a bunch of talking. The aliens (Steve assumed they were aliens because they each had at least four heads and blue skin) all spoke something very close to English, but Steve only caught shards of conversations:

"‘...five thousand and twenty what?’

"‘...but then I pulled them back up and everything was okay.’

"‘...and I still have the head in my closet.’

"‘I knew this guy, he was so...’

"‘Look at the new guy. He looks like such a...’

"‘How...was he?’

"‘I don’t eat Mexican pizzas anymore. I used to eat beef burritos, fajitas, and oh, those tacos! But then I got one with a ... on it and I haven’t eaten anything since!’

"‘He was so ..., your momma!’

"Steve couldn’t make sense of any of it."

"Now, I think that we’re in need of somewhat of an intermission at this point. Quite a bit has happened, and you all might need a little relaxation time away from all the tension."

Intermission

Once upon a time in a field with bunnies and flowers and clouds and happy children and soft grass and a smiling sun with adorable little dimples, there lived a fox named Happy. Happy was bored, so he took a walk in the field. He happened upon a group of fuzzy bunnies jumping in the flowers and singing songs. He called out to them.

"Let’s play a game!" said Happy the Fox.

"Okay!" said one of the fuzzy bunnies. "How do we play?"

"It goes like this," said Happy the Fox, and he ate all the fuzzy bunnies. Oh, what a sneaky fox!

End of Intermission

"Back in the meanwhile that had the dead world leader gang in it, John was picnicking. Err... panicking. He ran around in circles and swore a lot until he got tired and then he kicked one of the bodies and felt a little better. Then he remembered what happened and he got scared again.

"‘What will I do?’ he asked the dead presidents.

"There was no answer, and John thought that it was just like politicians: they’ll talk forever about anything, but when a real problem comes up, they all die. He decided to pile them all into an open sewer vent because that makes for an interesting surprise ending later in the story. Oops. Did I spoil it? Poor you.

"After they were all in there, John checked out his car. It wasn’t badly damaged, except for a few scratches and dents and bloodstains and broken windows and a big neon sign that read ‘I was in an accident involving the death of eight world leaders.’ Just as long as no one asked him anything about what had happened, he should be fine. But someone did ask him, and it was not good."

"During John’s panic, Steve was sitting alone in what appeared to be a jail cell. The Waiter did not want to see him yet, and he was to stay in one of what the aliens referred to as ‘super-bad torture boxes of death’ while he waited. He was assured that all the torture would be turned off while he was in there.

"He made himself comfortable. The cell had all of the latest quarantine accommodations: a sink, soap (upon request), something that held bedding, a floor, most of a ceiling, and a fax machine. Steve’s favorite, though, was the hyper-toilet, which provided him with literally minutes of uncompromised entertainment. Steve was simple, and it flushed quickly. Hyper-quickly. When that lost its charm, Steve sat and waited for something to happen. He had that awkward feeling that one gets when they are in a place that they don’t understand, having no contact with anyone at all, and with nothing to do, and there were scary alien grunts and belches echoing through the hallway in front of him. You know that feeling you get when you jump out in front of a train, and right before it hits you your stomach tightens up and you feel like maybe it’s a crappy idea? It was kind of like that, only without it being his idea. He started to think about his life and all the things he’d done, and he threw up. Then he started laughing because it was funny that he threw up on his first trip to an alien place, and that’s just his luck, you know? But then he started to choke, which made him stop laughing, because if you can’t breathe, nothing else matters. So he was sitting there choking on and spitting up his own vomit when Matre-Dee and Matre-Dum both showed up.

"‘Oh, boy. This doesn’t look very good, does it?’ he thought to himself. Within minutes he was okay again, but there was vomit all over the place and he was sitting there smiling innocent as a baby as goo dripped from his mouth.

"Matre-Dee and Matre-Dum frowned at each other. They opened the cell and as they cleaned him up, they sang this song:

"Steve thought it was a pretty funny song because it made him think of how snobby the catered aliens must be, and when they said ‘shake hands,’ it was like, ‘Which one?’ you know, because some of those aliens had like five or six of ’em."

"Back in John’s meanwhile, people started to gather around John and his car. Little did he know, it was a very busy day, and over a hundred people walking the streets had actually seen the accident, and at least ten times that many were watching as he shoved the bodies down into the sewer. Now that the police arrived, people were less fearful of him and they crowded around to see what would happen next. John was cowering in his car, the doors locked, wishing that he brought along his ‘Special Government Employee’ badge he left in his underwear drawer. The officers approached with fearful and anticipatory scowls on their faces. One had dark hair, while the other had dark hair, too. They were both short, but one was tall, and they both had different hats.

"‘Please step out of the vehicle, sir,’ said one of them.

"Johnny (I’ll call him Johnny now because somehow it seems more delinquent) didn’t move. Once they found the bodies, he was as good as dead, he thought, so there wasn’t much use in complying.

"‘Sir? Please get out of the car.’

"Johnny pretended to be asleep. It was like a trick, only stupid. One of the officers approached the driver’s side. He reached through the opened window, unlocked the door, and opened it. Johnny fell out, still seemingly asleep. It should be noted at this time that Johnny was a very good pretender, and had actually fallen asleep, and as you know, reality is the greatest illusion, so he had ‘em tricked real good. On top of that, Johnny was a very sound sleeper, and in all actuality, did not wake up when his head hit the pavement. It took a lot of work and a little bit of tickling to finally get him up, and upon waking, he told them everything. (That, too, took some tickling.)"

"At this moment in Steve’s time, Matre-Dee and Matre-Dum were finding out that they didn’t like Steve very much. He was either very curious or very stupid, or both.

"‘What’s this?’ he would ask, and they would answer something like ‘That’s your hand, Steve,’ and he’d go ‘What does it do?’ and pretty soon they stopped talking to him.

"‘What do you think The Waiter is going to say?’ Steve wondered aloud. They told him that they didn’t know for sure, but that it was probably something about Steve having slept with The Waiter’s wife or something and that they hoped he brought clean underwear. But that doesn’t matter, because out of the blue, a waffle-maker appeared, opened, and sucked Steve out of the evil grip of Matre-Dee and Matre-Dum."

"Johnny was now in shackles, weeping in front of an enthused crowd. An officer held him at either side by his elbows, showing off their catch. Just then, a flash of light jumped in the sky and Steve fell to the ground. Don’t worry, he didn’t land on anybody or anything, and nobody was hurt, except Steve, who had broken his leg. He laid on the ground mumbling some nonsense about ‘The Waiter,’ but no one paid him any attention because they were too busy watching eight supposedly dead world leaders climb out of a manhole.

"They all lined up and one of them said ‘Let that man go. We are all okay, no harm done,’ and everybody clapped because it was turning out to be a very happy ending. John’s handcuffs were removed and he jumped into the air with joy at his newly regained freedom.

"‘Oh, yeah,’ said one of the world leaders, ‘when I said we were all okay, that didn’t include your parents. They’re still dead.’ John started to cry, and everybody laughed because they knew that life was just one big joke anyway," he said, then sat back down again. The meeting was about to start. Someone in the front row stood and walked to the podium, and the air raid sirens started, and they all got blown up. Except me. I hid under one of the desks.