I live in a run down apartment. Livable, including the rats. Haven't paid the rent either and the landlord or "slum" lord is breathing down my neck. The spouse isn't any better.
We all get into shouting matches. Screaming decibels.Things quiet down as soon as the "lord" and "lady" tire out.They don't bother evicting me. The place is so bad nobody rents from them. I'm their only company.
I move around the city but I'm usually somewhere in the villas. Particularly at the clubhouse. A clubhouse where the idle rich congregate.
A friend of mine sponsors me and pays for my bills. Whenever money is low, which is most of the time, I go feed at the clubhouse. Taxman, my friend, is a jolly fellow, he likes mixing drinks. Then drinks them. He comes out with the most bizarre drinks you could imagine. Once the drink starts flowing the celebration begins.
As I'm eating lunch by the lobby, I see Taxman entering. He waves at me. I wave back. He joins me at the table and calls the waiter. Taxman orders something that sounds like the whole bar. He notices my puzzling look and explains he has a new idea for a drink.
Bottles of liquor and booze are brought to our table. Champagne glasses laid out between us. Taxman explains the process to me mixing it with the laws of gravity and osmosis. Anyway, he pours something that looks like brandy and a cream liquor. A small disk forms on top of the brandy. Taxman sees my amazement. He smiles and continues. He pours a yellow liquid on the disk. It really looks like a hotcake!
"It looks like a hotcake!" I said, quite perplexed at the stunt.
"It is!" exclaims Taxman laughing at my perplexity. Taxman makes another and passes it to me. We toast and the liquid pours down our throats. You could feel a line forming from your mouth down to your stomach. It feels soothing...its hard to describe exactly.
I was soon beginning to make some. Taxman and I were getting drunk. We were laughing at each other for reasons unknown. We kept laughing at each other for reasons unknown. We kept laughing and drinking until the bottles ran out.
Taxman was in a good mood. We left the clubhouse. As we walked the road to the parking lot, the sound of heavy vehicles were getting louder. It was getting near.
The road we took connects also to a nearby army base. Now we could see the source. Great big armored vehicles were passing us. Some bristling with missiles, others had big guns sticking out.
Taxman and I whistled and waved for fun. We hardly see them around.
"Another war?" I asked.
"Who knows?" Taxman shrugs.
Nothing much happens in Numbly Firs. Except for the civil war The war has become part of everybody's lives. People just take it for granted. You may also wonder about casualties. There isn't much. Most of the time it just property getting hit.
I wake up in the dark. With a big throbbing headache. I look around. Its my room. I grope for the light. Its on, everything's fine. The window's open, there's a cool breeze. Its late in the day.
I can't remember what happened. Except being with Taxman even then, no details.
Its a bad hangover. I walk to the tub and lay in it. The water feels good.
I hear a knock on the door. Soon I see a smiling Taxman over me.
"What happened to us?" I asked, still trying to remember.
"Remember the villas?" Taxman says with a glint in his eyes.
Taxman begins:
We were about to get in the car when I had the idea of climbing the roofs of the villas. I found it fun to climb the walls and hop on the roofs.
