Mr. Acox and his wife live in New York City, the hippest apartment in New York City, so cramped he keeps records in an enormous bathtub while he’s not playing them. I’m looking at the records in the bathroom or something and I look up and it’s Marzette Watts sitting with a sly smile on his face and wearing a loud checked suit. The first Marzette Watts album plays and I say, the amazing thing about the drummer J.C. Moses, he can suggest forward motion without ever committing to a metere.
Mr. Acox says we need to order any kind of Pizza available. I’m not sure what stores deliver in New York City. I’m going to have to look it up.
I’m just so amazed at having Marzette Watts in the the same room with me, then somebody turns on the water and the shower and the right side of the vinyl stack is soaked terrible. I’m trying to save them.
***
Nothing matters except to get away from the thing, and the thing can assume any Affinity it pleases. It melds. We’re driving and just before we drive the right hand passenger door of the Cadillac pops completely off and I think about welding it back in place but it’s too late because we must go at maximum speed and we fight the thing in the back seat. At the bottom of a slope the thing gets out near a tree to meld with something of its kind or so it believed. I scream at the driver and Hound on the back seat and he picks up speed and we begin to move slowly up the slow but the thing realizes it’s been cheated and comes rolling them up after us.
***
As usual I’m back in college and as usual I have not attended class and I have no idea where my classes are held and I have no idea if I’m eligible to graduate although I hope I am but I just don’t know. And everyone’s wearing cloths over their faces.
***
Gene Simmons from Kiss materializes in fire along with the other members of Kiss. Could I be drunk, gasps the hapless witness. Drunk, sneers Simmons. He slowly materializes in full makeup and costume, out of the wall of fire. Does it look, like either one of us is drunk?
Then I’m looking at Kiss bootlegs from the Creatures of the Night tour and I’m concerned that Vinnie Vincent is staring back at me from his picture in the Ankh makeup. And the bootleg is consumed in the fire.
***
It is a red Radio Flyer wagon belonging to Mr. Le, and we must examine it urgently but we must not. Something holds us back. What could the cargo be, could it be the price child?
***
Yet another interlude where the college dorm feels like a space station. Flushing, in the toilet sense of the word, yields among other things, a large cache of the banned 12-inch falsetto classic: “I Am Black (And The Other Thing).”
***
The Duel between me and the guy who’s the size of a puppet. He throws a diversionary tactic and his presence turns out to be a pair of turtle-shaped blinking lights. He opens the door and escapes in his teapot size race car.
***
I have become completely useless, all the level of trash. I try to stay hidden but my head must stick out. He leans down and says, did I pay you, holding some money out.
