Cereal 5: Teenage Mutant Ninja Christians II

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Breakfast of Champions
Five: Teenage Mutant Ninja Christians II
(Electric Boogaloo)

Paul didn’t want to wake up. Waking up meant another foray to the library for more goddamned books or some other half assed semiconscious venture into unpleasantness. The world had been an unkind mistress lately; he didn’t need his ass to be kicked again. He kept his eyes shut, pretending to sleep, while weighing his options. Getting up wasn’t the top choice. He wasn’t even sure where the hell he was. His working theory, relying heavily on a foggy dreamlike memory, was that he was rather firmly attached to two card tables with some bungee cord. Paul tentatively opened one eye to test it out. There was a yellow bungee transversing his eye socket. Shit. He shut his eye. This kind of crap had to stop; if only he had a cigarette, things would’ve been much better.

While Paul occasionally enjoyed a consensual foray into bondage he didn’t remember anything from his recent past that would have led him to be bungeed to some card tables for the afternoon, evening and, judging from the strength of his desire for nicotine, the better part of a morning.

Paul opened his bungee’d eye again. "Bungee," he thought. He opened his other eye.

"Bungee," he said.

"Yes, Bungee," said a voice coming from behind his head.

Paul jumped. The table hopped ever so slightly. "Don’t DO that shit to me. Christ."

"Sorry," said Dave. He moved the bungee so that it wasn’t in Paul’s eye.

As the bungee was removed from his eye, Paul noticed that Dave was ever-so-cute in that blond uptight Christian Aryan-nation serial-killer-about-to-fry sort of way. Paul batted his eyelashes. "Blanche Dubois eat your heart out," he thought. He batted some more. "Hey—You couldn’t, like, untie me, could you?"

"Do you, like, have something in your eye?"

"Uh, no." Paul realized that his eyelashes were still pretty much toast from the time E.G. Philpott had tried to set his head on fire while he was asleep in the dorm social room. What a passive-aggressive asshole. Egg had gotten his revenge. Paul felt like an unattractive weenie with stumpy eyelashes. Fuck it. He batted his eyelashes again in a vain attempt to be vain.

"Are you sure you don’t have something in your eye? Because I could get it out…"

Dave’s hand was brushing away imaginary crap from the side of Paul’s face, about to head for the eye socket. As pleasant as Paul found this, which was very pleasant indeed, he really really did not want some guy sticking his goddamned finger in his eye no matter how cute he was.

"I don’t have anything in my eye EXCEPT YOUR GODDAMNED FINGER. I SWEAR if you don’t get your GODDAMNED finger out of my eye this minute I’m going to punch you, restraints or no. And while you’re at it could you undo the bungees!!?"

"I’m not going to undo the bungees if you’re going to punch me." Dave sounded hurt. "Besides Carl told me not to untie you or leave you alone so he would be pretty goddamned unhappy if I let you go. He is such a MORON that he didn’t even realize that you wouldn’t be able to go to the bathroom and FURTHERMORE…"

"Are you and Carl, like, boyfriend-boyfriend? Is there trouble in paradise? Is THAT why I’m here? Is this some sort of sick twisted rape shit? OH SHIT oh shit oh shit…" Paul whimpered. He hyperventilated. He wasn’t getting anywhere, so he passed out.