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"My professional psychiatric analysis is that Angry John is completely fucking insane." - Sigmund Freud

2001-10-04: Antique Store

My mom decided to visit an antique store she hadn't been to in about a year. Carmen and I were in the car with her, and some friends of ours were in a car behind us. The antique store was one of those old style businesses where the owner lived in the same building. We walked into the store and didn't see any antiques, just someone's kitchen. An old hispanic lady walked into the room and looked at us in stunned silence. Then understanding flashed into her eyes and she began to show us to the upstairs, where most of the antiques had been last time we were there.

We walked through a hallway into the main antique room, but there was nothing there but normal things you would find in someone's house. The rest of the old lady's family looked at us uncomfortably. Apparently they realised what the old lady did not - there was no longer any antique store. She showed us to different parts of the house, but there was nothing for us to look at besides a playpen and some pots and pans.

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2001-09-26: In the Car

I was driving my car in traffic through a bad part of town. I became jammed between two cars on the left side of the road. Something was wrong. I began to look to the left and I heard a gunshot. I felt a momentary flash of agony and fear in my head and then there was nothing.

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2001-09-26: The Alligator

Carmen and I were skimming the surface of the swamp. We entered an alcove of businesses on the side. We passed by a japanese restaurant and a comic book store on the shore. She mentioned that we could eat at the restaurant, but we decided that it would be better to wait until we got back home.

We left the alcove and made our way home down a channel of the swamp. A couple of times we decelerated and began to sink into the swamp, as we had no boat. I mentioned to her how the spoon was the key to skimming the surface. If you held it just right, you would propel forward quickly enough to stay on top of the water.

I saw a snake in the water ahead, its head poking up. We skimmed over it. "Is it following us?" I asked her. She told me it was leaving. At this time I lost our speed and had to actually move the spoon back and forth to gain acceleration.

I saw an alligator in front of us. Other animals were somewhat predictable, but the alligator was not. Time shifted and I was already bit in the left arm in the inside of my elbow. I/Chris was telling a story about how the alligator bit me and kept trying to sell me razor blades, books and other things on the black market. The alligator kept a book of all of the people it had bitten that it would sell me. (It was probably faked anyway)

I showed Carmen the bite later, she was so worried. As Chris finished his story about the talking alligator I asked my mother if they could actually talk. She said they were one of only three animals that could. I felt it odd that alligators have been conscious all of this time without my knowing.

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2001-09-26: Flying Saucer

Me, Joe Comeaux, and about 20 other people were walking across a large field with houses on either side. I saw a large flying saucer hovering near one of the houses at the same level as the second story of the house. It had jet engines under it and was very loud. It was very "physical" relative to most flying saucers you see on TV and whatnot.

We all laughed at the idea of the flying saucer. It is such a hokey thing. We didn't for one minute believe that this was actually a flying saucer from outer space. It flew over us and landed about 100 feet from us. We looked on somewhat amused.

It sprouted long steel spider legs like the machine in Wild Wild West. Our amusement slowly turned to fear. As it crawled towards us, shaking the ground with each step, our fear turned to terror. It trampled people to death as it overcame us. I was in the head of the pack with everyone following me. I quickly darted to the right behind a house, hoping that the monster would continue to attack the crowd rather than follow one person. I was right.

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2001-09-26: The FedEx Man

I walked into the factory and heard the chanting. I couldn't quite make out what it was saying, but it was frightening. Someone was discussing the cost of this operation on the edge of the swamp. The talking alligator was beginning to fade from my memory.

At the end of the factory was an amazing sight. A man was assembling an enormous stack of what looked like 1/2 inch sheet rock panes. He stood about 4 feet down from the top of the 50 foot stack which was next to a stack of about 150 feet. He had a staple gun. I noticed that the stack he was standing on and the other stack were connected by a ribbon of panes of the sheetrock.

Of course we're smart, said the narrator, just listen to the chanting:

Read...Read...Read...Read...Read...Read...Read...

The man pressed the staple gun to the sheetrock and pressed the button. As he connected the panes, the stack upon which he was standing rose until he was hundreds of feet in the air. The stack had also gained in width. He began to do amazing manipulations to this stack, which was no longer like sheet rock but more like supple white cubes of some styrafoam like material.

He slid back and forth, hundreds of feet in the air, and pulled out a cube from here, modified it, and swapped it with a cube from there. He stapled, sealed, replaced, and spun cubes so quickly and gracefully it looked like the circus.

The narrator talked about this star of the white cubes. I began to suspect that he was no fedex worker at all, and that this was just a brilliant acrobat hired by FedEx to make their operation look more complex than it is.

The narrator and another man followed me home to interview me regarding my incredible talents with the cubes. We watched a teaser trailer for my new miniseries. It depicted me standing on top of a 10 story stack of white cubes and manipulating them in my unique fashion. I actually hollowed out a room and slept inside of the stack. Even I was impressed by this.

They asked me the typical questions, and I responded with appropriate disdain. The man asked me about the number twelve. I said that I saw several since walking into this room. One on the clock and a twelve cent piece on the sofa. They were rightfully impressed.

They gave me a notebook to sketch my mind. I scribbled frantically and a crucifix appeared. Of course a crucifix will appear! I had placed one on the paper as a stencil. But even after removing it I kept drawing a crucifix. The stencil was in my mind. The paper on which I was sketching with my other hand was another thing entirely. I had sketched myself being interviewed by two men, the exact scene before me. An amazing feat for a blind man.

But my sketch captured the demonic nature of all around me. It was hideous and frightening. My mind reeled in terror at the sight of the picture.

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