VI BONNEDICK, MOLEYNEE

He didn't know what the hell a Hashabyarhashby was for. He stood at the door and didn't know what to do. "Put the Hashabyarhashby in." The door repeated. "I don't give a shit, really!" ArtFork shouted. "Fucking inventions like that, who knows." He sat down on his poop, clutching his head. "I guess I'm old now." He lit up Shmmerho!

"Smeerho!" He sneezed. "Dude, that's some power." He smoked it, got up and headed out. Taxinbo drove by on GropeenDarkeeen Street. "You stink like a shunyetsa! Those fucking Smeerho! Get in the back!" the taxiboer shouted at him. "That's a business today," he snorted. "Where to?" "Kamkeeno." ArtFork said. "Kamkeeno, oh, shmurzaa," thought Bonnedick.

"What are you gonna do there, buddy?" He asked. "That's none of your business," ArtFork replied. When he was dropped off at Kamkeeno, all he had to do was cross the street over a bridge that arched across the entire neighborhood. He descended the stairs below the level of the sidewalk. He knocked on the door. A redhead with a gold tooth answered it.

"What do you want?" "I'll take a tastietayster." The redhead chewed her chrunchee gum and let him in. "I don't know Dabjune. It's too soon for me." He walked down the office corridor. "I don't give a shit about you like a Ckseeman oilley, You Raggie One!" "God, you're a sweet, Moleynee." "Pack it in! You'd better ride my praiser."

"You already here, Fork?" "Yeah, Moleynee." "Honey, come on, give me a ride." "Sure, Moleynee." Flavourbabe scrutinized ArtFork all over and clip-clap-clip-clap her way down the hallway to the praiser. "Have you got it!?!" asked Moleynee. "No." "What the fuck? Fuck me!" he snapped at him. "Do I know what the Hashabyar whatever is?"

"Yeah this. That sucks, Fork." "So you see. As long as you're cassing around and doing big arms." They were both sitting at the table, both wearing hats. "I'll tell you, buddy, where this world is going." "Do you want to know?" "No! You'd better not say anything. Phew," Moleynee sighed. "So what are we going to do about it?"

"We can get Droomhal on it," suggested Fork. "No," replied Moleynee quietly. It was quiet. "Would you like some?" offered Moleynee the Valen tobacco to Fork. "Okay." They both took snuff slides and blew it to themselves. "Cool." "Yeah, yeah, yeah." ArtFork sniffed perfectly. Suddenly he was gone. It shot him somewhere into another dimension. His body was perfectly still in Moleynee's office; if someone kicked it now, he wouldn't feel a thing, and even if he did, he wouldn't care. His face was flushed, his spirit completely absent. He just grunted softly like a Koretta. Moleynee, more accustomed to theValen tobacco, walked round the table and sprawled beside him. He had a great appetite for him. He wanted to grab him and abuse him. He grabbed his fleecer, set it down on the table and pulled it towards him by the collar of his coat.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," ArtFork repeated over and over. "Here, have some more," Moleynee shoved snuff slide under his nose. He couldn't hold the demon in any longer. Slowly and endlessly, a Kraysleevad began to burst from his chest, crawling out of him, and then crawling back into him below his navel until it left his body through his crotch. The Kraysleevad shone like a magical pontochon as the lamp from the ceiling shone on them. Immediately it sank into the ground. It entered to Fork through his paws.

Fork's pupils dilated and he stared into space. When Moleynee had sufficiently satisfied himself, he pulled back his Kraysleevad. Art remained half lying, half sitting, with his coat open. Moleynee returned to the table and puffed away. They came out of delirium in three maefees. When Fork woke up, Moleynee was long gone. Fork took a drink to quench his immense thirst, pulled a cockney lollipop from his pocket, he was terribly hungry. He swayed to get up. His skin burned like a hakunbelan plague.

He staggered out, got to the street, looked around and saw a bar. He had a mashqueer and then continued on. In a bistro on the corner of Meshvatee and Krindini, a bistro named after the idol of the shmurzaa - HashmurzaaBali, Bonnedick sat chewing yamovay mushroomian. "Look at him! My buddy," he said to ArtFork.

"Do we know each other?" Fork said. "Oh, shmurzaa, somebody got high," Bonnedick grinned. "Give me." "What?" teased Bonnedick. "You know what?" "No," he chuckled again. "Give me." "A little too much Valen tobacco, eh? Are you Vrahyas?" teasing him. "It will be a few more maefeess before you can say anything coherent." And handed him a bowl of slurb and a haveenat. "Here, have some." Then he ordered him some more of a tchmeayda and a hornfran. Fork dumped it down his own throat and washed it down with a quart of dermentian braids.

"Well, you've had quite a ride, I see. You weren't alone in that, were you?" He looked behind his neck and saw a tanned wound. "Right. Dude. You got screwed." And ArtFork dropped his head on the table. When he woke up, he was lying in apartment 2B on Ruyana Street, but he didn't know it. He was slowly coming back to his body. Slowly. He was shaking all over. He was glad he could see, hear, feel...

He was alone in the apartment. Dusty, small, with a bed just wide enough for him, with a small fridge where he found cans of the dermentian braids, which he immediately drunk. Suddenly the door to the apartment opened. "Ah, someone's awake here." "Who are you?" "Oh, shmurzaa, that really messed up your brain," Bonnedick said.

Needless to describe how long it took for ArtFork to sort of come together. Actually, it took quite a long time. And a lot has happened in the time he's been out. First of all, NamastFinger got shot. "Fuck." "Yeah, man, fuck," Bonnedick said. "And you don't want to know who apparently did it." "Me? Shut the fuck up!"

"Tell that to The Ficanian Justice," replied Bonnedick. "Will you testify that I was here?" asked Fork. "Look, even if I testified to you beautifully, it wouldn't help you much." Fork looked at him. "NamastFinger was killed before I met you." "Oh fuck." The Kraysleevad shone like a magical pontochon as the lamp from the ceiling shone on them.