old

We’re sleeping in a tent in the middle of a big soccer field surrounded by hills. Bing is in the tent, asleep on a cot, and we have sleeping bags. We’re not asleep, and I try to kiss you. Immediately you tell me never to do that again, don’t ever do that again. I try to explain that I like you a lot but I say the stupidest things—like talking about how your eyes are the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. Somehow I convince you to kiss me again. You take off your shirt, and you have three nipples. We hear sirens and we’re worried that it’s the police. I say the police couldn’t bother us here, but you tell me, “ever since the patriot act, there’s no telling that they’ll do to us”. It’s not a police-car. It’s a giant turtle-man—a huge green man with a turtle shell.
He is terrifying. Turtle Man pounds on the door of the insulated greenhouse where Garbage Man lives. Garbage Man is an old hunchback who collects everyone’s junk. Turtle Man is pissed off—freezing in the cold and hating his job. He demands to know where we are. Garbage Man does not know, but he also does not like what Turtle Man stands for, and so he is defiant. He refuses to let Turtle Man into his warm tent. Turtle Man crushes him like a tin can, and smashes the windows of his green house. He bends down, rummages amidst the debris, and withdraws two long knives. We decide to run. We go up a hill and then I’m Batman and you’re Catwoman. For hours, Turtle Man gives us chase through the rafters of an old theater.