“No time for a this and that or that and this, here. No damn time! We need to get STRAIGHT to business my child, mmkay? No unnecessary words need to be spilled, child. We have ALL of the,uh,…. no time left, according to my clock, which is slow OR fast, but it’s certainly not bang on time, that’s for sure, I know that for SURE! Let’s start a journey before the end of time happens, if it happens, whenever it does, I can’t come with you, but I wish you don’t “
– – last words of Jennifer Gullifan, a woman who was missing for all of her adult life, only to reappear, age 75, in an abandoned car factory. She was found by a film production team scouting for locations. She was confused, agitated, shaky and deranged. She was put to sleep, by herself, via a method that none of the doctors could understand.
“Hey, chap 1?” With a forceful pointer finger, the receptionist shouted at Trev.
“Who, me?” inquired Trev.
“Yeah you, you’re number 1 in line, the doctor will see you now” Fascist receptionist said.
“Oh, can I finish my cigarette first” joked Trev, who clearly hadn’t lit any cigarette at all.
“NO SMOKING” screamed the receptionist.
Trev slinked past the receptionist’s desk in an exaggeratedly sad manner, as he passed the receptionist, he mimed putting out his imaginary cigarette on the receptionist’s papers.
“You may need a psyche ward rather than a nice little doctor’s office, pal” muttered the Fascist desk man.
“Well, I’ll be giving this place a negative review on Facebook with service like that”, quipped Trev as he made his way into the doctor’s office.
The very moment Trev walked into the doctor’s office he was overwhelmed, almost to the point of grand mal seizure, by the strong smell of oily, glorious marijuana. The doctor showed no visible signs of being high on the weedy weed, he seemed totally sober and normal. Trev asked straight up, “Hey Doc, have you been prescribing yourself some ‘migraine medication’ on the regular?” The doctor looked at Trev blankly for a good few several seconds. Then, “No, no, no. My previous patient was a heavy drug abuser, the smell you can smell is his smell, the smell of a drug abuser” said the doctor hurriedly. The doctor went on, “So what is it I can do for you?” The doctor looked nervous, ever more so with every passing moment. Trev said tentatively, “I’ve been having trouble sleeping, could you give me a prescription for some Valium or something?” “SURE, sure, yep, Valium, sounds good” said the doctor while writing down the prescription in a quick, hasty way that instilled nothing but concern on Trev’s part. Trev walked out of the doctor’s office and the whole building in a dizzy haze, partly because of the strangeness of the doctor’s behaviour, and partly because of the secondhand high he no doubt got from the office that smelled more strongly of weed than every college dorm room in the universe combined!
Trev slinked home, opened his door, the front door no less, and put his kettle on the stove. Some time passed, some water boiled, and Trev made his favourite; green tea with lemon and ginger and Himalayan sea salt and paprika and butter. Trev sipped his drink, switched on the TV, and settled down for the night – a night for which sleep would normally never be guaranteed, but Trev had the almighty Valiums at his disposal! Luckily, Trev didn’t need to pop any of the Vals, he managed to naturally drift off into the neverending darkness, the abyss from which which no consciousness emerges, but Trev would usually refer to it as sleep, as most do. Trev slept a solid 8 hours for the first time in years, uninterrupted sleep, until it finally was interrupted, by the fact that Trev woke up suddenly!