O l i v e r B e n j a m i n
You are—
toast
? You are—
history
?”
“I am—” Harvey tried to qualify this outburst. “I am—I am—
thirsty
.”
“So what?”
“I don’t know. But I have a feeling that if I could drink a lot of
water, then I might remember this chip thing. I have been suffering
from dehydration, you know. It makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“It does not,” said Barth, “However, I’m willing to take that risk.
There’s not much damage a little water can do.” Barth instructed
Cain to bring a pitcher of water for Harvey, which he finished quickly
and then asked for more. After the second pitcher a very bloated
Harvey reported that, sadly, he still could remember nothing.
“Oh, well. At least you aren’t thirsty. Turn on the machine, Cain.”
Cain did as he was told. Within moments, Harvey was vibrating
like Milo’s modified reclining bucket seats. Steam seemed to be
coming out from under the helmet—perhaps a reaction between the
electricity surging through Harvey’s body and the sweat cascading off
his skin. A more mystically-minded observer might conclude it was
Harvey’s soul trying to escape from its dilapidating abode. Whatever
the case, it wasn’t the only moisture that was escaping Harvey’s body
at an accelerated rate. Just prior to Cain’s throwing the switch,
Harvey managed to free his penis from his trousers and initiate a
contraction of his engorged bladder. And since electricity enhanced
muscular contractions, Harvey’s urine streamed across the room as if
shot from a firehose. And his aim was right as rain.
Sparks erupted from the machine, silhouetting a frozen Cain
Montgomery in their ebullience, and causing Barth to shield his eyes.
Barth yelled at Cain to step the heck away from the machine, but this
was impossible, the henchman having been linked by water ballet to
Harvey’s limbo stick, and an ever-expanding
do-si-do
with destiny.
When the fireworks were over, and Harvey and Cain were dead
to the world, Barth had no choice but to hide their bodies and
concentrate on more pressing concerns.
“And then there was one,” he said. “This must be what they mean
by corporate downsizing.”
As he made his way back up to the executive suites, he noticed a
great quiet all around and within him, and ascribed it to the feeling
one might get standing alone at the top of a mountain. “It sure is
lonely at the top,” he joked to himself, unaware that he was neither
in charge nor alone. Not only was a high-school dropout
169
 |
 |
 |
 |