My Best Friend.

With rasping breath and dragging feet, my best friend approaches. He smiles so broadly, but as he does, I cringe to see it. His teeth are rotten, glowing yellow and bright in dark, damp surroundings. And ever closer does he come. Green arm lifted overhead, he waves as if he had a noodle attached at the shoulder.

And then he defecates right there on the spot. 20 feet from me. He does not stop. He is too excited to see me. He keeps walking, smiling and waving. Ever closer does he come.

His name is Samuel H. Glendon. But what is he thinking? His eyes dance madly in their sockets, grasping at some trace of a maligned thought before realizing another one, and then thrusting them at that. That is what I imagine is happening. He walks and he limps and now I smell his breath.

He is wearing a crown for some reason. It is bent and nearly broken. I don't wish to know why he wears it, I simply want to leave. I cannot stand his stench. Cheese that was laid to rot 500 years ago, mixed with cattle dung might not adequately illustrate the aroma.

I mouth, "Stop! Go away!" but my voice box projects, "Come here! Come closer! We will spend the day together!"

I cannot move. I am rooted to the ground. His face, first a pale white, turns green. Slowly. The green flows from within him and begins to collect at his nose, and then spreads outward to the rest of his face. As if the ooze in his body directs itself towards me.

I am in a crowd! Why does no one take notice? He stops. One whole foot in front of me. I begin to retch, but as I do, my mouth is frozen shut, so the vomit must only leak from my nose and some small gaps in the sides of my mouth. He presses his nose against mine. Soon enough I feel my back on the ground. And he is on top of me. He opens his mouth and my vision quickly blurs, then fades away. Before I lose all consciousness, I sense his tongue lick my cheek, and then feel his teeth sinking in.