.
.
.
.
.
.
Are you comfortable?
I am! Thanks for asking.
Feeling okay?
Mostly. Got a bit of a headache and I’m sore as hell, but they said that’s normal.
Hey, what’s the verdict on painkillers?
No. Conflicts with the stabilizers.
Whaaaat? Who woulda thought. Alrighty, pain town it is.
You can start the broadcast whenever.
I already did.
Oh, shit. And here I thought you just liked talking to me. Hey, psychologists evaluating me. I’m like, so normal. So well adjusted. Cute, too.
It’s good you’re in such high spirits. I know the whole process wasn’t easy.
Eh, it kinda was for me. All I did was wake up. And yeah, I felt like shit at first— and I still feel like shit, don't get me wrong— but compared to what the people behind the curtain are going through... I 'unno. I'm kinda just chilling. Perks of being a lab-rat.
Though, the real growing pains will prob’ kick in after a few more days. I remember when I got my surgery, the second week was the grossest. But I sucked ass at cleaning, so maybe that was my fault. Don’t think I’m allowed to do that now.
Not in the slightest.
Your long term memory is holding up nicely. Tell me about a childhood experience.
They’re all pretty bad, chief. Once I shoved my little brother off the sofa because he beat me in a bootleg go-kart game. Knocked one of his baby teeth out, too. I bribed him with ice-cream so Mom didn't tear me a new one. I was a shithead, what can I say?
I never took you for a sore loser.
Oh, I was the worst. Still am, just better at hiding it. I’m dogshit at video games— most games, actually— so I try to avoid anything super competitive or else I'll kill the vibe. It's one of my twisted and fucked up secrets.
Do you want another?
No. Tell me about your first romantic relationship.
Ah, youth. It was one of those really weird, codependent friendships that started in my late highschool era and got really out of hand. Category Five incident of dumb kids not knowing how to handle their feelings. Wait, does it count if we never kissed?
… you know, I’m not sure. Supply me with one where you did kiss your partner.
I think I was twenty-two? Maybe? No, twenty-one. I hooked up with the drummer in the band I played with. Wasn’t anything too crazy. I liked her ‘cause she was tall and had a sick ass side-shave— plus, super cool blue-red hair. The ombre, man. Love a good ombre.
Why did you break up?
God! You just love ripping me apart, huh? Don't worry, it was nothing crazy, I kinda outgrew her. She was really into my early twenties angst, and I got tired of that. Mostly 'cause I figured out I liked being alive. Left the band, too. Wonder what they're up to now.
Probably dead.
Mm. Anyone ever tell you you’re a depressing fuck?
You’d be the first.
Well, my soggy friend, I’m honored to be the bearer of bad news.
We aren’t friends.
Soggy associate?
Stay on track.
Ah, cut loose a little. You only have one more prompt. And it's a doozy, from what I remember. Let me have my levity.
If you don't want to answer, stop deflecting with bad jokes and tell me.
Jesus, pull the stick out of your ass. Stop treating me like a baby.
I'm not— how many times do I have to repeat myself? You've been through a lot. More than most people. There's no shame in needing a break.
I mean, there is. You won't admit it, but there definitely is.
Hey, hey! Don't give me that look. Seriously— think about it from my point of view! What’s the point of all of this if I’m too fuckin’... neurotic and fragile to finish a conversation? I’d be doing a disservice to everyone who slaved away to make this possible. And I get the concern, but like... I don't know. Shit might be uncomfortable, but I don’t think I have the right to check out. Not yet.
Ahem. All this to say, I’m a tough nut to crack. I like my jokes and I'm doing fine. Continue, boss-guy.
...
Alright.
Tell me how it all went wrong.
.
.
.
.
.
.