The Jarvis Nebulae Files - Part Five

© Duncan Wheeler 1997-2008

The smell of hospital strength detergent nearly brought my stomach contents up. But I couldn’t remember my last meal.

One thing I did remember however, was a vague sense of shame, and I knew it wasn't because I was naked in a public place. Not that I was hanging out on a pole suspended above a mosh pit or anything, I did have sheets between my personage and the general viewing public. It just felt kind of weird. Then the young, extremely attractive nurse came in and my schoolboy fantasies escalated.

My mind raced in an effort to escape yet more embarrassment. Unfortunately it raced in the wrong direction, and in this respect Fantasy Man was very fit - and despite how hard tubby Reason rotated his stumpy legs and sweated like a pig, he could not catch up. Fantasy Man hurled insults which quite hurt Reason’s feelings and stalled him, because he couldn’t help thinking about whether or not such terrible things were true.

Then Fantasy Man, well in the lead now, had time to leave traps for Reason, like this one which he thought was really clever: "fantasising abut this drop-dead gorgeous nurse will make your stay in hospital all the more enjoyable, and thus revitalise and heal you quicker". So of course, Fantasy Man ran the race, won hands down, and escaped without a scratch. Testosterone levels peaked, and so, inevitably, did the bed sheets.

So it was maybe an hour after the nurse had left the room that the juices stopped flowing, and the useless piece of brain fondly known as Reason puffed and panted his case to Vortag, Supreme Ruler Of The Neuron. Vortag did not deign to feign gratitude, he only replied, "It has already come to my attention, you worthless tiny little globule of rubber, by the esteemed grace of Ego, that this woman of whom you speak would make a complete fool of you within two seconds of you opening your mouth. So your whiney observations are rendered completely invalid. Like you!" he sat back and a pleased look entered his otherwise agitated face.

"So, you ask, how could this women destroy your very presence? Shut Up! I didn't say you could speak! Shutup! Shutup! You are a remarkable specimen of redundancy and have little time for you. So let me take only two examples of your last conscious efforts at tackling life!!! One: You have absolutely no answer, not even an insult worth mentioning, for a rowdy heard of walking meat lockers protecting their baby. Two, you have no comprehension that attacking a calf, for its skin, is a completely socially unacceptable manner in which to gain clothing. And might I also point out as a bonus for your collection, Kaptain Kill, that the Cave Dwellers Society of Tasmania is nothing more than a fancy-dress party for University Arts School students next to whose intelligence yours is nothing but that of an Amoeba."

Crestfallen, Reason ran away, found a suitable corner of the mind, and burst into tears. Despite the connotations of a supposedly logical and fundamental extension being allowed such silliness. In fact his own feelings were in disarray.

But I don’t want to dwell too much upon the massively efficient bulbous grey blob in my skull. Back to my predicament: What was I doing in hospital? Did someone know something about how I got here? Why did I have large, blunt-looking indentations in my arms.

Then the doctor came in, with a king-size smirk on his face. "Are you enjoying your stay?", he asked.

Taken aback, I said, "Very much"2 thinking of the nurse.

"Yes, well, we are quite enjoying your stay too..." he said, and looked as though he were about to burst into laughter.

"We’re having a cow of a time!"

"We are really stoked, or should that be, steaked about having you!" [accompanied by an involuntary wave of his hand in the air]

"Anyway, sonny, after we picked you up off the rocks, we rang your family to get permission because we had to use a road-drill to open up your incredibly thick skull. They said they didn’t know who you were, and had had enough of that shit to last a lifetime, but we managed to get some of your old medical files they were about to throw out along with some toys."

... this was leading somewhere, and I wasn't sure where, but I didn't like it.

"In the process we came across some old intelligence test records..."

My head needed itching. So I scratched it.

"You know, you're pretty smart..." - losing interest I looked towards the window, but couldn't help noticing the doctor was positively spewing saliva,

"...FOR AN ORANGUTAN!!!!!!" he yelled, and overjoyed at his statement, spontaneously collapsed about the room, knocking over trays, vases, a table, and, unfortunately, my life support system... But I was calm, I was ready to go peacefully this time, to leave this world, drift into the clouds and fly free as a bird into the happy land above.

Then I had a dream. And a dream I had. That I did, and it was a dream.

The end of part one of the Jarvis Nebulae Files .

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