Posted by: The Amoeba | May 25, 2010

Dude and Dude: Before I Wake

“Dude?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t quite know how to say this …”

Don’t, then.”

“Geez, dude. You’ve gotten really cranky lately.”

“Not happenin’, dude.”

“Whaddaya call this jumpin’ down my throat …”

“You got any idea, dude, how many decades it’s been since they put electric starters on cars? Hell, these days, they got motors on pepper mills. I couldn’t find a crank if my life depended on it.”

“Maybe you can’t find a crank, but I find I’ve got a crank case on my hands. Dude, you gettin’ enough sleep?

“What? First Quilly and now you? What did I do to deserve naggin’ in stereo?”

“Not getting enough sleep?

“Look, dude, I get all the sleep my body will let me.”

“Yeah right. What’s that? Zero?”

“Virtually. That is, after all, what we are.”

“Leave the photons and electrons out of this. Let’s talk about this ‘let me’ business. Most people’s bodies don’t let them stay awake. Yours won’t let you sleep? Why not? You scared of somethin’? Munchkins, perhaps?”

You want to flip burgers at Professor Marvel’s Marvelous Drive-in the rest of your life, ’cause some vertically-challenged Randy Newman fan got to HR before you did? No, wait, I forget. That burger-flippin’ would be a step up for you, wouldn’t it?”

“So it is the Munchkins?”

“That would make sense, dude. But no, that ain’t it. It’s … it’s … the prayer, dude.”

“The prayer dude? There’s three of us now?”

“C’mon, dude, you know what I’m talking about. Now I lay me down to sleep …

“Nothin’ wrong with that.”

“You think so, dude? What about that third line?”

“Which is …”

If I should die before I wake.” I can’t believe how many years I said that out loud just like it didn’t mean nothin’. Then, suddenly, one night, when I was by myself and it was dark, and I said ‘die’, and the word just mushroomed. Die? Die? DIE?!?

“Not in my bedroom you ain’t, dude. You take that pot of royal blue right the hell out into the workshop where …”

“Dude?”

“What?”

Shaddap. Well, that word die murdered sleep quicker’n Shakespeare. That old guy with the scythe wanted to come snoopin’ ’round, I wasn’t goin’ to take it lyin’ down. And if he was comin’ after me, I wasn’t about to snooze through it. I was up all night. And I’ve pretty much been up ever since.”

“I see. Well, I guess there’s only one thing to do.”

“What’s that?”

“Go get the rock Quilly keeps threatening to use on OC to put him to sleep. I reckon you got five minutes to sack out before I get back here and knock you out.”

“Right, dude. Good luck carrying that real rock with your virtual hands!

  – O Ceallaigh
Copyright © 2010 Felloffatruck Publications. All wrongs deplored.
All opinions are mine as a private citizen.

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Responses

  1. i know its easier said than done, but stop worry-ing…

    quilly is there now to guard you while you sleep.

    also you could get a dog, my dog stays right by me all the time, and she is comforting.

    comforting with my pillows, blankets and nite light!

    • Well, Tilden, things might be more peaceful if it weren’t for the battle of the earworms.

      Alfred E. Neuman singing his signature: “What, me worry …”

      vs.

      The Seven Dwarfs singing the original lyrics to their hit: “I owe, I owe …”

  2. Insomnia’s my oldest friend. The pun is my longest serving enemy.

    • Insomnia’s your friend, Dawg? I thought it was a suburb of Cleveland.

  3. Listen to Tilden. Quilly and a nice cuddly puppy. That’s all you need to sleep tight. 😉

    • Silly me, Q, I thought that sleeping tight had much more to do with wild turkeys than cute puppies. But I suppose I’ll get the beam end if I say that out loud.

      • The only turkey at our house …. [you want me to finish this line?]

  4. […] He: “Not too brilliant, I hope. I’d hate to put the post up and then have the neighbors complain that they can’t get any sleep any more. That would be ironic.” […]


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