Zorg the Marauder got out of bed in a cranky mood.
His cat was meowing at him and he hadn't even pissed yet.
"Shut up,you mangy puss.Lemme take a leak and then I'll feed you."
Wizzzzzzzzzz
He filled his nasty piss bucket and threw it it back down amongst the cigarette butts on the floor.
Living in filth and squalor was an acquired taste.His five dollar a night room above the bar wasn't fit for bums,but at least he could get away with bringing home drunken sailors from the waterfront.
The YMCA down the street had rules against fags bringing fags home for the night.
A night in lock up had cured him of the YMCA.
He glanced in the mirror and saw a bucket head staring back at him.
"Yeah.Same to you,Mac."
His psychiatrist in the insane asylum had warned him about talking to himself in the mirror but his college degree psychiatrist didn't dissolve into alternate dimensions like he did,so he could go to hell.And so could that crap they told him to take to keep his wormy brain stabilized.He'd sold it at the jazz joint to some hop heads who thought it would get them high.He had to keep looking over his shoulder whenever he was in thier neighborhood, vengeful druggies could prove hazardous.
Meow,said the cat.
"Yeah,yeah, I'm coming."
He shook a Luckies out of the pack and stuck it in the slit of his mouth.
Transforming into a robot with a bucket head was still jarring him.
Jack Splat had been who he was in that other place.
A taxi driver with beard scrubble on his face taking tips and dealing with assholes in New York.
The problem is, he had run afoul of the Mob when he'd robbed a guy in a candy store to feed his heroin habit.
Kripes,how was he to know the guy was the grandfather of the local Don when he put a bullet in his heart?
It was a godsend when a wizard in a pointy hat pointed at him with a magic wand and put him in the world of Crack.
He searched through the cupboard but the cupboard was bare.
"I thought I had some godamn cat food in here,"he told the cat."I don't think you'll like peanut butter.Hold on,Beaner,I'll have to go to the store."
Zorg removed his head and put it in the cupboard.
Took down a replacement that looked different from his usual self.
He was a marked man with those junkies out there looking to even the score.
He picked up his snub nose revolver from the table and checked the chamber.Four slugs out of five wasn't bad,enough to get out of harms way if he was lucky.
The cat slipped out when he opened the door and disappeared down the stairs and into the street below.
"Gimme half an hour,Beaner,"he called."Don't piss off those rats.You know they got it in for you."
Beaner the cat had overturned their lemonade stand out of a bully's malice and word in the street was that paybacks are a bitch.
Even his cat wasn't safe in this world.
A fat guy with taped up ribs was walking out the door to the bar when he got to the bottom.
They had rough fights in Red's just about every night,he could hear the noise even though he'd stick a pillow over his head to muffle the sound.
The street whores were wearing torn hose and their faces heavily splattered with cosmetics as he passed by them.
"Hiya,bucket head,"said Toots,a blowsy floose with sagging tits and a face worked over by a truck.
"How's tricks,baby,"Zorg said as he walked by."Sorry I can't talk,I gotta get to the grocery store.I'm flat out of cat food."
"Hey,pick me up a box of pancake mix,"this other prostitute said."I'll give you head when you get back."
"Forget it,honey,"he told her."You ain't gotta reciprocate.I'll treat."
"He ain't into crevasse,"he could hear Toots telling her as he walked out of earshot,"the Change turned him into a boloney bandit."
Yeah, he'd been into muff back in New York.
And then the Change had changed everything.
It wasn't the wizard who'd caused it;he was simply a victim of something wider.No one knew what had caused dimensions to merge and turn everything up side down.
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