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2112 004
"Fire! Fire!"
-Dante
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³ ÝÛÝ ÝÝ Þ ÞÞ ÞÞ ÝÝ Þ ÞÛÞ ³
³ ÝÛÝ Üþ ßÛ ßÛ Üþ ÞÛÞ Fear and Loathing ex Inferno ³
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ßß ßß Volume I, File IV [010695]
Writer: Anomalous
Really, now, the evening had bad juju from the beginning.
I think we all felt it. Nothing ominous in the Shakespearean
way, actually, like horses chewing their fucking legs off, or
snakes hiding in the ground and crazy shit like that..
But..
It was just ominous, that's all.
I can't even fucking remember what we were doing at first,
but I do know that we went to Blockbuster to get some movies.
I also remember that as I write this, the fucking movies are
due. But we searched Blockbuster for a good half hour before
we found anything. Sirens we chose first, because Elle
MacPherson takes her clothes off in it. The other one was
called... I dunno, Mobsters, or some shit like that, and it
had Christian Slater in it and Richard Greico. We wanted to
get Faces of Death but they didn't carry that series.
I think we drove around for a while before we decided that
we wanted to eat.. and we went to a pizza place called Papa
John's.. they have these really kickass breadsticks, you
know. I mean, they are so fucking good that for a week
during Christmas vacation I had nothing to eat but these
breadsticks. They're that good. And they also come with
this "Special Garlic Sauce," which is really something along
the lines of a psychotic Crisco-Garlic mixture.
That fucking garlic sauce was probably what fucked the
whole evening up, because it made everyone feel like shit.
We were all sitting around, talking about how we wanted to
puke... and then, Leo, my chihauhau, came up stuck his head
in the "Special Garlic Containers" and drank it like it was
fucking Kool-Aid. I mean, he just swilled that shit down.
And we all just sat there talking about how now we wanted to
puke even more.
That's when we decided to leave the house. It was 12:30,
probably, and the night was still young and we all wanted to
do something. "Something," when Justin's involved, usually
means fire, destruction, and pestilence, plus equal parts
gasoline and firecrackers. That night, though, we didn't have
any firecrackers.
So here I am, getting in the car with this fucking "Special
Garlic Buzz", my head spinning and shit...
I had told them,"Look, we're not going anywhere in my car.
I hate it and it's a piece of shit." Somehow, that's where
we ended up anyway, sitting in that fucking car. You know
what? That fucking car is tilted. I noticed that in the
parking garage yesterday. See, parking garage floors are
slanted perpindicularly from the parking spaces, so the
bottom of the car should be parallel with the ground. But
my car, damn that piece of shit, it's fucking even.
Goddamit. I hate that fucking car.
So we were sitting in the car, and we drove down the street
to get some gas in one of those red plastic gas canisters,
with the yellow spouts. That was mine. I think Justin put
Exxon Premium in it, $2.00 worth.
Nirvana was in the stereo, "Bleach."
We found this little shack at a baseball field. It was one
of those wooden shacks that the scorers sit in when a game
was going on, but since it was 1:00 in the morning, there
wasn't a game going on and there wasn't anyone in it. We had
gone to the field to look for bottles, to make firebombs with,
but, hey, there was this convenient fire hazard sitting there
and we burned it down.
No, actually, I don't know if it burned down, per se, but
when we left, it was quite a healthy little campfire. So it's
probably charcoal briquettes by now.
I think when we were driving off, Kurt Cobain was howling
out a song called "Blew." Nirvana is some great fire music.
I have absolutely no grasp of the amount of time that
passed at this point. We drove around for an absolutely
indeterminate amount of time.
The occupants of my car were in a quandry. They wanted to
burn down something important, apparently, but they didn't
want to kill anyone. A truly paradoxical situation to me.
I had asked them if it would make them juice their pants if
someone can running out of a house with their fucking head
on fire.. they said something, but I can't remember what.
Justin was suggesting knocking on doors to see who was home,
and then burning down the ones that didn't have anyone in
it. We pointed out to him that this was hardly practical at
1:30 in the morning.
It was around this time when we stumbled across a house.
It seemed to call to us...
Anyway... It was the only edifice within 1000 fucking
yards.
Isolated. Off on the other side of the road was a
railroad... hmmm... what the fuck is that called? It was a
whole bunch of tracks and shit, and a bunch of diesel
engines, and they were hooking up cars to make a train.
That was on the far side of the street. The road hooked
down towards this bridge, and it was completely pitch black,
with no street lights. It was perfect.
We stopped and looked at the house for a minute. I mean,
there had to be something amiss here. There was no way for
a house to be that perfect.
But it was. Andre had filled a forty bottle... it was that
malt liquor with the bull on it... with gasoline, and there
was a roll of newspaper sticking out of it that served as a
wick (and had probably served as a funnel, as well).
Sicophants that we are, we made sure we through a rock
through the window before we gave the house last rites, so
any occupants had time to turn on the lights and scare us
off.
Strangely enough, the caution was unwarranted as the
house had one of those notices that means the house is
condemned on the door. It said it was a class
something-or-other misdemeanor to enter it. Well, like I
said, we didn't plan to enter it, we just wanted to torch
it.
So, Andre or Justin or whoever it was threw the bottle
through the window and suddenly this house was on fire. We
all laughed like loons and drove off...
But we came back, and decided it wasn't burning good
enough, and we all went up and looked at the house. It was
then that we noticed it had the notice on the door. It was
then that we also noticed all the junk and shit on the
floor. So Justin threw gas on the side of the building, which
caught fire immediately, and ran in weird patterns in the
yard trailing the gas until the whole fucking yard was
burning like a motherfucker. And he didn't stop there,
either. He ran towards the us, still trailing the gas, and
leapt into the car... the fire was right there, practically
blistering my paint... and I threw the car into 4 different
(and incorrect gears) before I finally got it into drive and
left. As we drove by, I saw that the ceiling of the house
was afire, it would be mere moments before the second floor
caught.
That was when Andre started howling something at the
trains... I don't remember what he said, but it was
something pretty weird. As we rounded the curve past the
house, we saw this guy walking along the road in a jogger's
suit... then he saw the fire and broke into a sprint towards
it.
We proceeded to drive around for yet another indeterminate
period of time, during which we debated the merits of either
going home or "getting" a car. They were as fickle about
cars as shoppers. Not that one, it wasn't expensive
enough... not this one, it's too bright around here.
It seemed like forever until they finally found one they
wanted. It was brand new... still had the dealer's plates
on it, for Christ's sake. It was mint green, I believe.
It's black now.
Justin and Andre were going to "get" it... I was in the car,
with Shane.
They had this big ass rock, probably about 5 pounds, and
they kept trying to break the passenger window with it.
They tried 3 or 4 times before they finally broke it, and I
was getting really antsy. I just had a bad feeling. I kept
seeing that jogger with no head, just one of those flashing
blue police bubbles on his shoulders.
This is where everything just fritzed out. They dumped
gasoline in the window, on the car, everywhere, and Andre lit
it with a rolled up piece of paper. Then, I don't know what
happened but in a span of about 2 seconds the street around
them was on fire... me and Shane kept screaming,"Come on!
Shit! Come on!" We just fucking freaked out... but Justin's
legs were on fire, so I guess he had a problem "Coming on."
There was gasoline flying everywhere, I guess, because 2
other cars suddenly went up in flame. The whole street
was on fire, too, all the way across. To make matters
worse, a fucking car stopped at the stop sign not twenty
feet from all that shit... and it was like fucking daytime
with all that fire.
Multitudes of expletives were howled at this point,
including, "Holy Fuck, he's on FIRE!!" from myself, and
"Fucking shit!" from Shane, and I think something like
"AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaAAAAAHH!!" from Justin... I don't even know.
But I do remember he tried to stop, drop, and roll, which
was roughly as effective as Reaganomics but much more
visually stimulating, not meaning anything bad about
Reagan, I love him like my own fucking dad...
Shane's amazingly verbose and moving account of this moment
later was as follows: "I just kept thinking of that song by
REM... 'Everybody Hurts'."
I remember watching them try to beat the flames off... it
was almost like some kind of fucking trance, me and Shane
sitting in the car... I don't know if I said anything.
Justin, amazingly enough, had the presence of mind to bend
down and untie his shoes (which were on fire), kick them
off, pull his pants off. This was in the middle of an
enormous conflagration in the street, and meanwhile yet
another vehicle had driven by the stop sign twenty feet from
the action.
And suddenly, it was over. Justin had the pants off, and
the shoes, and the fire on his person was out... he and Andre
sprinted to the car, realized that they had left Justin's
wallet in the street, went back to get it, and then we were
off... the whole mess flaming behind.
I was yelling at Justin... "You alright, man?! You
alright?!"
"Fuck NO!.. I'm fucking BURNED!!"
There was this smell, too. Oh, fuck, the smell. My car
still smells... It was kind of like bacon, but also smelled
like burnt hair. Oh, shit, it reeked.
The car rocketed (well, not rocketed, exactly... ricketed,
maybe) through the streets... Justin's leg was sticking out of
the window, and this, this is what got me, it was making
this whistling, sizzly noise. That was the most fucked up
ass noise I've ever heard in my life. And, get this, as
we drove over the bridge overlooking the house we burned,
Justin was howling for us to look at all the fucking
firetrucks... that's the real kicker.
He's got this fucking 3rd degree burn on his leg, and he
wants to see the fucking house.
I just asked him what he was thinking when he was on fire.
He says that he was thinking that he needed to take his
pants off.
That kind of shows you his clarity of thinking. Fuck, I
don't know.
When we got back to the house, he limped back in and got
in the tub, and we ran cold water over his legs and hands.
That was kind of weird, too, because we were all sitting
there watching him in the tub. We kept asking, "You
alright, man, you alright?", but he was just sitting there
in agony.
Also, my mom was in the room right next to the bathroom,
sleeping, so I was all trying to get them to be quiet. It
was kind of hard, though, because there was this burnt
bacony smell and that burnt hair smell, and we were all
kind of feeling that "Special Garlic Puke" coming up on us.
Justin's hair was singed on the top and sides, his eyelashes
were singed, and all this skin and shit was falling out in
the fucking tub. He kept saying how much it hurt and shit.
Then we called Ask-A-Nurse. This bitch that worked
there, she was probably a janitor or something, she just
started fucking with me.
"Ask-A-Nurse."
"Yeah, a friend of mine is burned."
"What's your name, sir?"
I answered. Stupid of me.
"And who is the call regarding?"
"Uh.. huh.. Look, I just wanna know some stuff about burns,
what do you need his name for?"
"Sir, we need the person's name..."
I muted the phone... to Andre and Shane: "What the fuck
am I supposed to tell her...? I can't give her his fucking
name." Unmuted... "Look, I just have some questions.
Are you gonna answer them or not?"
"I can't answer them without a..."
"Fuck this shit...<click>"
It got really fucked up then, because we kept calling
around trying to find out if Justin would die if we didn't
take him to the emergency room, and it was like the
Fucking Quest for the Holy Grail because no one would give
us straight answers. Finally, Shane and Andre went into my
room and started playing FIFA Soccer on the Sega Genesis
and shit.
I didn't know what to do. Justin had picked up the phone
and was talking to different emergency room motherfuckers
who were all fucking him around. Shane and Andre used their
own unique coping techniques by playing Sega like fiends,
and I was shitting my pants hoping my mother wouldn't come
into the bathroom and see Justin on the phone with his leg
looking like a hunk of roasted chicken.
I think sometime around 3:30 Justin found this nurse that
would tell him about burns, told her some story about spilling
lighter fluid on his leg and not having money for an emergency
room visit, something like that. I was sitting on the toilet,
freaked out of my fucking mind. Oh, yeah, and a little bit
before, Shane and Andre had left to go get bandages and anti-
septics. I had forgotten about that.
See, Justin was talking to the nurse, and the other two
came back with peroxide, Bactine, and a fuckload of bandages.
They said that they got all the shit at Eckerds, and that the
stupidass bitch that was behind the counter wouldn't help them,
so they took their shit and left. It was just a criminal
night, apparently.
Probably about 4:00, Justin's lips started turning blue from
sitting in the cold water for so long, and we had to yell at
him and shit before he'd get out. I told him if he didn't get
out, we really would have to go to the hospital for fucking
hypothermia as well as burns. His forehead was real clammy
and shit... fucking scary.
He wouldn't let us bandage him up, either. We tried.
Several times. He just yelled about how much it hurt and all
this other shit, and finally ended up on the couch with a bowl
of ice water for his hands and cold towels draped over his legs.
This is where I started to get kinda pissed. There was no
way we could be there when my mom woke up that morning. I
mean, if she saw his leg, we were fucked because there wasn't
any way to hide it. We couldn't stay there. But every time I
asked what we were going to do, the whole fucking issue was
dropped. So I ended up staying up the remainder of the
morning while everyone else slept.
I just called Justin. He says that he stayed home from
school today to go to the doctor... told his parents that he
was making a bonfire at the lake and caught his pants on fire.
Kinda makes all our efforts worthless, I think. I mean, I
stole him anti-biotics, Eric stole him pain killers, we'd been
fucking bandaging him up all the time and shit. He was
through the worst of it... I mean, what can the goddamned
doctor do that we can't?
Besides, can that fucking doctor make a firebomb?
(\___ ___ ___/)
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