Crack Attack: A Collection of One-Shots and Other Disturbing Shit

A Side of Guac (Chipotlan; Merome)

           The smell, the taste, the touch of you soothes me... no massage could ever make me feel this way... so thick, so heavy, so cool, smooth, creamy... I scrape another chip along the dregs of guac in the tight curve of the salad bowl that had been brimming with you only minutes earlier... crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch... I run my fingers along the crease in the bowl and set it aside next to me on the bed, licking your leftovers off of my fingers... it's so quiet and peaceful with Jerome asleep... your spices fill my nose and I feel so utterly at home in your grasp... so cool and sweet, so hot and spicy... so smooth... so silky smooth... like sand at the beach... so relaxing...

***

Ding!

Who's playing my Gameboy?!

My eyes fly open and I expect to see Mitchell trying to slink away with my Gameboy again... but it's been years since I had a GameBoy. I'm so dazed that it takes me several seconds to realize that I'm an adult now, and that was my phone. How did I just go back twelve years of my life?

I reach up to rub the grogginess out of my eyes when my fingers scrape across something cold and smooth all over my skin. How could I forget the guac? I reach up to dab a taste on my finger... but it's hard. Very, very hard. How long has this been on my face? I grab my phone off of the pillow next to me and it's been... nine hours since I watched those videos on YouTube.

It's been on my face for at least eight hours now.

It's not edible, then, is it?

I probably shouldn't risk it. I crawl over the discarded salad bowl and head into the bathroom attached to my room, grateful that I don't have to risk running into a wild Benja in the hallway. Might try to eat my bloody face off, mangey fuck. I double-check to make sure that the edge of the dresser is pushed in front of the door so I won't come back to find any unwanted visitors sitting on my bed. At least all of the garbage bags stayed in place this time - there's no mess to try to clean up.

When the light goes on, The Mask is staring back at me. I wasn't trying to cosplay today. I'm tempted to take a selfie. But there's no doubt the marbled green on my face is guac and that's a conversation that should never be had. I stand over the sink and start peeling... it pulls at my skin but it won't budge. Only one thing to do. I turn the water on in the sink and turn my head to the side to stick it under the water. I can't believe I passed out with it on my face. The air conditioning fused it to my skin. It's like clay... I scrape and rub and soak and scrub until my skin burns and, at last, the guac is gone. I grab the hand towel from the hook by the door and dry away the blistering hot water and all my tears of disappointment.

I wasted your love.

I threw it right down the drain.

When I open my eyes, I see we have two huge problems: the sink is hopelessly clogged again... and my face is stained ayy lmao green.

"Well fuck me dead."

I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. Mitch. Mitch can't know. Mitch can't ever know. No. He can't see. I turn off the light for good measure so he won't be able to tell I'm not asleep and the green monster disappears. Don't stop in front of my room. Don't stop in front of my room. Go stomp your wombat arse down the hallway to your dungeon. Don't stop in front of my room. Don't stop in front of my room. His feet stop somewhere nearby. He must be in Jerome's room. I don't want to know what he's doing. I don't care. Just don't stop in front of my room.

The door clicks shut across the hall and it looks like they're scheming about something tonight. That's not a good sign.

I switch on the light on my phone and I start squishing re-moistened guac down the drain. But it's already so packed in there it's not moving. Motherfucker. I bring handfuls of the green, speckled water up to the little circle drains toward the top of the sink and drain as much as I can before I realise there's nothing else I can do. It's too packed to push it down and water just sits there on top of it. It's like trying to stuff Play-Doh down the goddamn sink.