12

"Life is a mystery
Everyone must stand alone
I hear you call my name
and it feels like home"

Madonna blares over the PA as Darlene saddles up to the bar, fresh from another bathroom break and already quite drunk. Loraine, who she’s just met and is now one of her best friends, is slumped over in her stool. Steve the Electrician, as he’s known, though mostly to separate him from Drywall Steve (they both have mustaches and wear hi-vis shirts) is playing pool and occasionally glancing at the TV wedged in the corner. Darrell leans on the register, towel slung over his shoulder, eyeing Darlene, trying to decide what's more of a hassle, cutting her off or letting her drink. She plops down in front of him and smacks the strap of a big purple bra that someone’s staple gunned to the ceiling. On the inside cup “Janet” is written in bubbly cursive, except the A’s a heart.

"Janet's sure got big tits,” she says pulling on the strap. 

"I don't know anything about it," Darrell says washing a glass and stacking it to dry.

"And Darrell doesn't know anything about it." She holds up the shot. "Must’ve been quite a pair. Probably thought she was doing everybody a big favor." Shoots it then wipes her mouth. "This ain’t no TJ. Max neither." She reaches up and gives it a tug. "Victoria’s,” she says in a slurred English accent pinching her fingers together and making ‘the fancy’ gesture. 

"Don't touch the bras. They're part of the decor."

She ignores him.

“Bares her breasts to God and country and nobody even remembers her.”

"I remember her," Steve says laying his pool cue on the table and taking a seat at the end of the bar.

"Well, god damn…” 

She puts her finger to her temple.

“Steve.”

“Steve!” She smacks her head. “Tell us something ‘bout Janet, Steve.”

“Well…” He takes a drink, sets his beer on the coaster and starts to pick at the label with his fingernail. "She’s got big tits.” 

Everyone laughs.

"Had,” Loraine says looking for her purse for the fifth time. “Died of breast cancer last year.”

"Dang." Darlene sobers up, looks at the bra, lets out a sigh then perks up. "Let's drink to Janet!" She pushes her glass across the bar. Darrell crumples in the face of tragedy and pours everyone a shot. "To Janet!" She raises it up then gulps it down. "You wouldn't believe the week I've had." Fingers a cigarette out of the pack. 

"You can't smoke in here."

Darlene fisheyes him then lights it. Takes a drag.

"I don't abide by your rules Darrell with two L's. I DON'T ABIDE!"

"They're not my rules. I just work here and it's the law."

"The law." She scoffs. "You abide by the law Loraine?" Loraine manages to shake her head and continues to shake it long after the conversation has moved on. "After the day I had it makes you think about the law." She pushes her glass closer to Darrell and gives him ‘the look’, a mix between bedroom eyes and ‘I’m about to leap over this bar and beat your ass’. "Would you believe I've spent the last few days with,” she gets unusually quiet, “a monkey man." 

Darrell’s face turns red and he points a finger at her. 

"We don't allow that kinda talk Darlene!”

"What kind of talk?"

"That racist garbage."

She straightens up.

"I'm not racist! You're the one that’s fucking racist!” She slams her glass on the counter. “I spent the last few days with a god damn magic Monkey.”

"I'm racist," Loraine says holding her hand up as if she's waiting to be called on.

"Oh honey, put your hand down."

"Well I am."

“I want another one damn it," Darlene says pulling Loraine's hand to the counter, "and get her somethin’ too."

Darrell walks over and pours a beer for Loraine and a shot for Darlene.

"That's it," he says with as much authority as he can muster.

She takes a sip, thinks about arguing then looks at the TV. A muted televangelist in a white suit is gesticulating wildly, a yellow 800 number beneath him as black blocks of garbled text fill the bottom of the screen. 

"I was raised on this shit," she says pointing. "Didn't go to church but on Sundays when I went to Tracy's…” She leans back and folds her arms across her chest. “She was this cunt that lived the next lot over. Her parents had cable and when they weren't home we'd watch dirty movies. When they were home we had to sit through this bible-beltin'-holier-than-thou-gimmmie-yer-dang-money-so-I-can-cruise-on-the-SS-Pill-Popper-with-my-Christian-airbag-of-a-wife.” She points to the hole in her head, “The fragile minds of children.” Takes a drink. “Idle hands and what-not.” Let’s out a dry smokers cough as she moves the cigarette to the other side of her mouth. Gets out her compact. “God forbid we’d rest our innocent eyes on a boob or a butt or a decapitated head." She looks in the tiny mirror checking all the familiar spots. "Tracy. Pffft. You know she told the Sullivan twins I…” Clicks it shut. “Nevermind about that.” Self-consciously touches the hole in her head and lets out a heavy sigh. “This god damn week.” Raises the shot to her lips then sets it back down, pauses for a moment listening to Madonna belt it out.

“I hear your voice
It's like an angel sighing
I have no choice, I hear your voice
Feels like flying”

She laughs. Shakes her head. 

“You know there’re Gods among us? Beings with power you can't imagine and they're nothing like what that strutting easter bunny of a preacher is going on about.” She watches him pace on stage holding a crystal flask, his headset almost invisible next to his greased hair shining under the stage lights. “I've been to hell or purgatory or whatever you wanna call it and there's no fire or brimstone. Actually, it’s pretty much like this.” She squints. “They had the law down there to Darrell and I didn't abide by it neither."

"Jesus is king," Loraine says.

"That's right," Steve pipes up at the end of the bar. "You accept Jesus Christ as your lord and..."

"Don't give me that shit. You know how many folks have said that to me in my…” She waves them off. “I'm not talking about stories in books. I'm talking about Gods. Wearing zebra-striped pants. Flying on clouds.” She extends her arms out as far as they’ll go. “With long…sticks. Gods. Plural. SSSSS. On this earth. I mean, can Jesus lift a car over his head and jump across the entire state of Florida? You show me in your book where it says he can do that."

Loraine starts searching for her purse.

"God is everything," Darrell interjects.

Darlene swivels her head around and her eyes widen. 

"Darrell with two L's jumping into the fray." She takes another sip. "So you're telling me that I'm God and you're God and poor racist Loraine here is God. Are you God Loraine?"

"Jesus is God," Loraine says. 

"Loraine doesn't think she's God, Darrell!"

He cleans another glass and sets it to dry.

"Some people don't see their connection to the perfection of everything."

Darlene almost falls over.

"Ho. Ly. Shit. Darrell’s a god damn hippie. You got a yin-yang with a peace sign and some flowers on your chest? Lift it up. Lemme see.” 

She finishes the shot. Stares at the empty glass. Purses her lips as a thought rolls over her. 

“If….everything’s God…” She traces her finger around the rim. “Then I'm God…” Darrell nods. “…and that means….that whiskey is God too.” Darrell stops nodding, folds his arms across his chest.

"Not gonna work Darlene." 

"God is LIMITLESS, you…" her voice lowers, "secret hippie." She bangs her glass and gets real loud. "Darrell's a SECRET HIPPIE everyone!" She picks up Loraine’s beer and sloshes half of it down the front of her shirt. "Shit! That wasn't a mistake. It was….,” squints her eyes, “meant to happen. Just like this..." She grabs a stack of coasters and starts throwing them one by one across the room like little Frisbees. “This was meant to happen Darrell!”

“Oh God, I think I'm falling
Out of the sky, I close my eyes
Heaven help me”

He walks from behind the bar as Darlene closes her eyes. 

"The spirit’s guiding me Darrell!” She opens one eye and see’s him bending over to pick up a coaster. “Don't go messing with God's plan!"

He picks up the last one, takes them back to the bar and places them next to Loraine. 

"Watch these for me will you?" Loraine smiles and puts her drink on top of the stack and gives him the thumbs up. “And as for you,” he put his hands on his hips, “if you can’t settle down I’m gonna have to..” Darlene’s eyes are transfixed, her mouth opens as she points behind him unable to formulate words. “What?” He turns in time to see a "Breaking News" banner flash across the screen as shaky video loops of a monstrous Pig smashing into the side of an Applebee’s. He cranks the volume just in time to hear, 

"…Gainesville Florida today as over a 196 people are dead and blocks of downtown destroyed by, from what we can make out, appears to be… a mutant hog. I wish we had more to tell you, but right now here’s what we know. The pig is at large. Downtown Gainesville Florida is in ruins and 196 people are dead. We’ll update you as soon as we learn more about this incredible story. I’m being told that if you'd like to send donations to the people of Gainesville that information should be at the bottom of the screen. Wait a minute.” He puts his finger to his earpiece. “We have a woman who was at the scene. Nancy? Can you hear me? Nancy?”

It cuts to Nancy standing next to a frazzled woman who's nervously picking at the side of her left arm with her right hand making it look like she's holding herself. Nancy blankly stares into the camera then nods and begins.

"I'm here with Amanda Jensen who says she was on the scene when ‘The Pig’, as people are now calling him, went berserk. Amanda can you tell us what happened?" 

The microphone goes over to Amanda.

"Well, I was sitting in a coffee shop drinking coffee. A vanilla latte. And then I heard this sound like a freight train and then the building across the street exploded and a giant cloud of dust rose up and there was flashing. In the sky. I remember the flashing, and then everyone started screaming because we thought it was a terrorist attack and we didn't know what to do so I took my kids and hid in the bathroom till it was over."

The microphone goes back to Nancy.

"So you didn't see the monster?" She shakes her head. "Can you say what you think might've caused him to start destroying the city?"

"Well, I can't say for certain but when I broke up with my Reggie he was real mad and he got drunk and messed up our apartment something awful. So maybe it was something like that."

Nancy pulls the microphone back and looks into the camera.

"That’s the word on the street Ted."

"Well, I'll be damned," Darrell says turning it down.

“I told you!"

"You said you were hanging out with a monkey."

"I was hanging out with him too!"

"It's those GMO's," Steve says at the end of the bar. "I knew they were gonna cause something like this. Splicing fish parts with corn."

"How’re you gonna get a mutant pig outta fish parts and corn?"

"Well there you go," Steve says gesturing. "It's right there on the screen."

"It's a sign of the apocalypse. Like Jesus said," Loraine offers. 

"It says in the bible that a pigs gonna destroy Gainesville Florida?"

Loraine nods. 

"It's in there."

"Show me. You show me where it says that."

Loraine raises a wobbly finger then starts looking for her purse. Darlene, sensing she needs help, scoops it off the floor and slings it onto the bar, a small leather-bound book with gold edges spills out along with lipstick, a half-drunk pint of Evan Williams and a condom. 

"You keep a bible in your purse?"

She doesn't answer as she’s too busy licking her finger and turning the pages.

"Hey. Secret hippie. How bout you. Any bright ideas?"

Darrell puts down a glass. 

"It's just a fact that we've made contact with conscious beings. Beings not from this planet.”

"Aliens," Loraine says not looking up.

“That’s right.” 

"We’re all aliens cause we're all from outer space," she says.

Darlene pats her on the back.

"That's true honey." 

"Oh! Here we go!" Loraine stands abruptly, one hand in the air, a finger extending to heaven. "Jesus restores a demon-possessed man. Mark 5:1." She makes eye contact with everyone to make sure they’re listening. "They went across the lake to the region of...oh…I can't pronounce that."

"Who went across the lake?" Steve asks.

"I don't know," Loraine says flipping back a few pages.

"Just keep it coming darlin’.”

Loraine nods. 

"When Jesus got out the boat, a man with an impure spirit came from the tombs to meet ‘em. The man lived in the tombs and nobody could blind him anymore not even with a chain."

"Bind him,” Darlene corrects. 

She clears her throat. "For he had oft’ been chained hand and foot, but he tore the chains apart and broke the irons on his feet. No one was strong enough to subdue him. Night and day. And in the hills he’d cry out and cut himself with stones." 

"Oh!” Darlene winks at Darrell. “This is more exciting than I thought.

"When he saw Jesus from a distance, he ran and fell in front of him. He shouted at the top of his lungs," Loraine’s hand raises higher in the air, "WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME JESUS SON OF THE MOST HIGH GOD? IN GOD'S NAME DON'T TORTURE ME!' And then Jesus says, ‘COME OUT OF THIS MAN YOU IMPURE SPIRIT!'"

"Honey, are there any pigs in this story?”

She nods and smiles. 

“And then a large herd of pigs," gives an extra-long look to Darlene, "was feeding on the nearby hillside. The demons begged Jesus, 'Send us among the pigs; allow us to go into them' and he gave 'em permission and the impure spirits came out and went into the pigs.” She slams the book. “So says THE LORD!"

She gives a Mick Jagger-like dance move before sitting back on her stool.

"It's all the same thing," Steve replies. "GMO's are the hand of the devil who works through Big Pharma which poisons our drinking water. And you know who controls Big Pharma?" No one responds. "The Jews." He takes a drink. "Alex Jones has been talking about human-animal hybrids for years. Chimeras. Pig humanoid harvesting farms in China.” He shakes his head at the startled glances. “It’s on the internet. You just gotta look it up."

"That's bullshit," Darlene says.

"Well, it beats your magic monkey theory."

"I don’t care one bit for your jew theory, Steve. I wanna get back to Jesus."

"It's in the bible," Loraine says holding it up for Darlene to see.

"Thank you dear. Let me hold that for you." 

“Like a child
You whisper softly to me
You're in control just like a child
Now I'm dancing”

"You know that Pig?" Loraine asks handing the book over. Darlene nods turning the bible over in her hands. "You're real pretty," she says reaching for her head. 

"That's nice honey, but don't go messin’ with my hair."

Loraine leans in and whispers loudly, "You want me to tell your fortune?" She digs in her purse and pulls out a deck of tarot cards.

"Loraine! What would Jesus think about you getting all witchy?"

She gives a serious look. "Please don't tell him." Shuffles and flips three cards over as Darlene, Darrell and Steve lean in to look at The Hanged Man, an upside-down Nine of Swords and The Tower. 

"Well…what do they mean?"

She studies them carefully then chews on the end of her finger. 

"I don’t know what this one means,” she says pointing to the Nine of Swords, “but this one means ‘change’”, she picks up the hanged man, “Like something’s gonna happen that’s significant…like a big change…in your life.”

"Ok, honey. I think the witching hour is over. Why don't you take your cards and your bible and…God knows what else you got in there.” 

The clip of Pig is interrupted with another eye witness account. Darrell turns it up as a young woman is being questioned.

"Can you describe him in more detail for the folks at home?"

"Sure. First I just want to say hi to my mom in Philly and hi to Sharice. Hi Sharice! West Side High! Go Eagles!"

"So you saw ‘The Pig’ in person?"

She nods enthusiastically.

"And what did he look like?"

"He was real ugly. I mean REAL ugly. Like…ugly for a pig."

"Anything else?"

"He was fat."

"Did you get any sense of why he was upset?"

"I don't know but it seemed like, you know, the stores he smashed had people of color in them and so I can't help thinking, this being America and all, that that had something to do with it. You know, because he was a white pig."

The reporter turns to the camera.

"A nazi mutant Pig attacking people of color in Gainesville, Florida. I think a lot of people are sitting around the TV asking themselves, 'Is this what America has become?' Ted."

It switches back to Ted in the studio with a still shot of Pig in the upper left corner with a swastika and a question mark overlaid.

"Lots of questions being asked but few answers. We now turn to our expert on these more,” he clears his throat, “cultural issues. Kate Mannis. Kate, you have a masters degree, why do you think Pig hates people of color?"

Kate, a clean-cut young professional in her thirties, gives a knowing nod.

"You really have to look at the socio-cultural environment that we as Americans have produced, or rather, the one that was handed down by the colonialist oppressors we call ‘the founding fathers’, and you have to ask yourself if we are visited by a demon Pig that feeds off the sins and hate of our country, how could he not be racist and sexist and homophobic?"

"You think ‘The Pig’ was targeting women and gay people as well?"

"Absolutely. He's the perfect symbolic manifestation of the horrors of whiteness and I have to say it's refreshing to see the ugliness that was hidden for so long finally come to light."

"Hard words Kate," he turns to the camera, "But maybe ones we need to hear. We'll be back in a minute folks."

"Horseshit," Darlene says pulling out another cigarette. Darrell opens his mouth, but before he gets it out, "The world is coming to an end Darrell! Let a woman smoke inside for God’s sake!”

She lights it up and looks back at the TV.

A man is spraying himself with a cloud of green mist. He sparkles as the mist turns to crystals that seep into his skin as two women in sexy black dresses join him in the shower and start caressing his muscles. The shower explodes into a stick of deodorant then liquefies into the words, “HARD STICK”. That quickly fades to a couple on the beach eating Doritos. The guy bites into a chip and his head turns into a volcano of cheese which gushes over the beach drowning the woman as they both are carried off on a wave that splashes them down on a deserted island, her wearing a cheese bikini and him holding a bag of Cheesy Doritos. The commercial ends and then it's back to the news.

"This just in," Ted says holding his hand to his earpiece. "New footage has surfaced of four men apparently ‘flying’. You can see it here." Another shaky video pops up as The Heavenly Kings streak across the sky. "These unidentified men are also responsible for some of the destruction as the one with the sword can be seen fighting ‘The Pig’. I have to warn our viewers some of these images are quite graphic so if you have young children at home it might be best for them to leave the room. Kate, what do you make of this recent development in this extraordinary story?"

They switch to a shot of Kate and Ted sitting next to each other then to the footage of a Dunkin’ Donuts on fire. A man crashes through the storefront window burning alive and screaming.

"First I can’t help noticing that it’s four men that are perpetrating this violence and I feel like a broken record but this is yet another example of toxic masculinity and our culture of violence writ large. Secondly, it should not be surprising that these men are white.” There's a shot of one of the Heavenly King's opening his umbrella, water gushes out that liquefies an entire family stuck in their Dodge Caravan as their glowing green skeletons wash down the street.

Ted interrupts.

"It does appear the flying men look Asian or at least have an Asiany appearance. We've had reports of..."

"Being Asian is also a part of whiteness Ted. I'm honestly getting tired of explaining this, but yes, just because you're Asian doesn't mean you also aren't benefiting from white privilege." The camera pans to Pig who’s stabbing at Zōchō-ten, his blows being deflected as he's thrown into a parking garage. "Regardless of where they’re from, it’s obvious these men feel entitled because they’ve grown up in a culture that’s fed their every desire.” The shot cuts to a Starbucks, people fleeing with their Fitbit’s and Frappuccinos, their heads lopped off left and right as the bodies fall shaking to the asphalt. “Movies, video games, pornography, every cultural manifestation teaches men they can do whatever they want and nothing bad will happen.” 

A man jogging down the sidewalk whistling along to an Aerosmith song blaring from his earbuds is cut in half, his torso falling to the ground as his legs splay on top of him.

Ted swivels in his chair. 

"And now we turn to our conservative columnist, Mark Richards. Mark,” an older white man in a suit gives a curt smile, “why does America hate people of color?”

He raises his eyebrows.

"Well, I'd like to start by addressing the issue at hand, which is, there's a mutant pig rampaging in an American city and he needs to be stopped. What we don't need is this divisive talk about who’s killing who or what color the person is. We need to stand united and say to our common enemy,” his voice grows much louder, “We will not let the deep state coordinate with the Chinese government in order to test biological weapons on our own people!” A school bus skids through an intersection on two wheels them topples over as children climb out of the shattered windows fleeing into the street as a 30-foot snake slithers over it crushing it into the ground. “This is obviously a Chinese plot orchestrated with ‘the elites’ to form a globalist world government that hopes to divide us…“ The Rock N’ Bowl explodes sending flaming bowling balls sailing through the sky cratering into the YMCA swimming pool, punching holes in the bottom and draining the water onto the offices below, “Biological weapons. Animal human hybrids grown in secret laboratories. Mutated communist Pig DNA. There’s no telling the depths these people will go to in order to destroy this great country of ours, because,” the footage ends with Zōchō-ten skewering six people on his sword then pushing them off with his foot sending them tumbling into a pile, “The United States is the greatest country on earth!" 

Ted turns back to the camera, a blood-dripping Twitter logo in the upper corner.

"This real-world rampage has caused a rampage of its own…on social media. We have reports of six tweets in the last hour that seem to show support for ‘The Pig’. One here by U3ks82ak reads, "Pig is my hero" another by user_dkslj_2aa simply says "I like Pig." He turns to Kate, "Kate, what do you make of this show of support? Are there other pigs out there? Is this some kind of religious demon cult that’s been lying dormant and is now starting to emerge?"

"People are saying 'demon cult' and I think that's fine. I think you can call it whatever you want but the fact of the matter is..."

"Now hold on a minute," Mark interrupts. "The social fabric of this country is being torn apart. Parents are getting divorced. We have men and women going into the SAME bathrooms! Of course we have a mutant demon pig attacking us!"

"Turn this shit off," Darlene says. "I can't take it anymore." 

"I told you it was the globalists," Steve says. "That Mark fellow knows what he's talking about."

"Mark is an idiot!" Darrell says. "How can you possibly take that guy seriously?"

"BOYS," Darlene raises her arms. "You think there’s gotta be one right answer, but what's more likely," she pauses, "is that you're both idiots." She takes a long drag. "I used to think I knew how things worked, but then some asshole shot me in the head, and I gotta tell you, it opened my eyes to one simple fact," her cigarette dangles from her lips as she leans in. "Nobody has a fucking clue what the fuck is going on. Not me. Not you,” she points to the TV, “and especially not those people!”

"I love you,” Loraine says trying to touch her hair again.

"I love you too honey."

“But I have to pee," she whispers. 

Darlene nods and helps her stand.

"He who throws the first stone,” Steve says pointing at Darrell.

“You’re the one throwing stones!”

“The sinful stone is cast into the water,” Loraine corrects him.

“Don’t you start with me,” Steve says. “We got a chi-com pig on the loose and you can’t even see it when it’s right in front of your face! Thinking this is all a bunch of bullcorn! I don’t hear you coming up with a plan. What’s your big plan, Darlene?”

She stops in front of the door to the women's restroom.

"My plan is to help Loraine, and when I'm done, if you're still sittin’ there, I'm gonna punch you in your stupid fucking face with this hand," she says showing it to him. "And so while we're taking care of business, I want you to think about which eye you like more, the left or the right." She swings the door open with her foot and pulls Loraine in as it slams behind her.

Steve sits there holding his beer. 

"Are you going to let her hit me Darrell?" Darrell shrugs. "It's not right. Fighting a woman." He finishes his beer and throws a twenty on the table. "This ain't right Darrell," then walks out.

"See you tomorrow Steve.” 

Darlene pushes the door open and saddles back up. 

"She's going to be a while," then looking down the bar, "Did that pussy leave?"

"You said you were going to hit him."

"Oh gawd! Can't a man tell when a lady’s joking?"

"I don't know Darlene. I thought you’re gonna punch him."

"Yeah. Well. Maybe I was. I don't know anymore."

He restocks the beer then seeing Darlene’s grown quiet, "So where's that monkey of yours? Is he meeting you here?"

Her head sinks lower.

"We had a falling out."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Well…that depends Darrell with two L's.” She lifts her head up. “May I have another drink?"

He pours a beer and slides it over. Darlene takes a sip then lets out a deep sigh.

"You ever fall in love with an asshole?"

"I've been the asshole someone’s fallen in love with."

"Yeah. I've done that one too."

“It's like a dream
No end and no beginning
You're here with me, it's like a dream”

Darlene looks over to the glowing green rectangle of the stereo.

”God damn this is a long song.”

”I think I accidentally hit repeat.” He walks over to check.

“We’re living in a material world Darrell….and…I don’t know what kinda girl I am anymore.”

He finishes stacking the napkins then walks back over.

"So, you and this monkey were...romantic?"

"Darrell! I outta smack your mouth.” Takes another drink. “Not him. It was this other…guy. Shit. Don’t even know what to call him. I had this…” she grimaces. “It’s hard to explain but…Jesus Christ, Darrell, can you turn off this god damn song!.” He pushes a button and the bar goes quiet. Darlene lets the silence settle over her. 

“I lost someone today, and you know what the worst part is? We were awful for each other. People tried telling me. I lost friends over this shit. Lost my god damn dog.” Mashes her cigarette onto a coaster. “You know, you see yourself making these mistakes. You watch…like it’s someone else. Opening the door. Turning the key. Driving over there. Sitting in the car looking at that door wondering what you’re gonna find when you open it. And all with these hands,” she holds them up, “but they don’t belong to me. They don’t do what I want…or…they do what I know I want but can’t say.” 

She pounds a fist on the bar then flattens it out, her palm resting on the polyurethaned wood. She traces the circle of water with her finger, draws a line that glides for a bit then runs dry. 

“It just felt so damn good.” She looks up at Darrell for some recognition and he gives her a nod, “but at the same time, there's this…it’s like some kinda,” she looks past him to the small retablo painting hanging above the bar. A Mexican man is dancing with a skeleton, flat blue sky, wonky purple alleyway with Jesus crucified behind him, a small white cloud at his feet as he bends his head in silence. “It’s like that god damn painting right there. Dancin’ with death. Holding each other, feeling his bony hips push against you, falling and mesmerized and the whole time you’re dancing and dying but it feels so good you don’t want it to end. Your skin’s peelin’ off but…it feels good. Why would that feel good, Darrell? That should feel awful right?”

He shakes his head not sure what to say.

“Honestly can't tell what's a bigger surprise, that there's a magic monkey in my life or…that feeling.” She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “And it doesn't go away. When you lose ‘em. There's this nothingness, like the dance somehow made it all worthwhile and now that it’s over, everything after….just feels like a joke." 

Darrell sighs, puts both hands on the bar. 

"That’s…a lot.” He scratches his head. “You ever….see a therapist Darlene?"

She looks back insulted.

"They understand what's going on ‘bout as well as the TV! Besides, I got Darrell with two L's and you're free."

“Well then,” he pours himself a drink and holds it up to her, "to living life and not knowing shit."

A big smile breaks over Darlene's face.

"I'll drink to that!"

9

Darlene looks at the hole in her head, body slouched in the seat, dried blood on her face and breasts. "Ugh. Why'd I have to be bent over like that." She puts both hands on the door and leans in. "Makes it look like I have a double chin." Examines her reflection in the driver's side mirror. "Do I always look like this or is it cause I'm dead?" She smiles and her reflection smiles back, lights a cigarette and walks around looking at the burnt rubble, the roofs of cars smashed in, newspaper stands knocked over, the glossy real estate magazines spilling out on the asphalt. She reaches down, picks one up, flips it over. On the back is a genie wearing a purple hat, his six hands raised with magic sparkle swooshes coming out of each palm and in the center a small silvery can that says GENIE GUICE. 

"Hey," she calls over to Monkey who's holding a red GMC Suburban in one hand while digging through the broken asphalt with the other. "HEY!" He looks back. "Do I have magic powers?" He stares blankly so she wiggles her fingers to try and clarify. "You know, magic." He shakes his head. "How bout, what do you call them? Can alive people see me? I'm invisible right?" He shakes his head again. "Guess you're alive and you can see me, though you are a magic monkey." He frowns, says something to himself and continues to dig as Darlene ponders this last point. "Only monkeys can see dead people." He finishes searching and walks over wiping his hands on his pants and scouting the horizon. "Seems pretty arbitrary if you ask me."

"What?"

"That Monkeys can see dead people."

"Who told you that?"

Darlene shrugs, puffs on her cigarette and wanders around crunching the broken glass with her heels. She stops in front of a hedge that was planted to hide the trash bin behind it, extends all ten fingers, squints her eyes and focuses. Monkey walks over, looks at her then to the bush then back to her wiggling fingers. 

"What are you doing?"

"Shhh! I'm gonna set that bush on fire."

"No. You're not." He puts his paw on her hand and lowers it. "You can't do any of those things." 

"Well god damn it. What fun is it being dead if you don't get magic powers?" 

"That's what I've been saying. It's not fun. Being dead is boring and it lasts forever."

She looks back at her body slumped in the car.

"If I go back, is that hole gonna stay in my head?" 

"I don't know," Monkey says impatiently. "But we're in a rush so..." 

"Never gonna live this down," she mutters, her voice lowering, "Hey Darlene, you're so dumb you've literally got a hole in her head." Monkey sighs as the black billowing clouds from a charred cop car wafts over them. They exchange looks. "All right, give me a god damn minute. It's not every day a girl's got to make a decision like this."

"There's no decision! You have to go back to your body."

"How does it work? Do I just touch it or say some words or something? Do I need a running start? Help me out here Monkey. I've never merged with my body before. I mean, I took mushrooms once with Darren when we went on one of his famous," she uses air quotes, "camping trips," lets her fingers hang in the air for emphasis then puts both hands on her hips. "Felt like I merged with something that weekend and it definitely wasn't Darren in the back of his Ranger. Spiritual stuff, or, whatever. You know what I'm talkin' bout." 

Monkey frowns and looks at her cigarette.

"Do you always smoke this much?"

"Damn it Monkey! Do you have to make me come out and say it? I'm nervous." 

"Oh." He scratches his chin. "There is an ancient Buddhist technique that might help. But it requires I do some magic." 

Darlene looks at him suspiciously. 

"Well...I suppose. Long as you don't shrink my head or nothing."

Monkey nods.

"First you have to close your eyes."

She shuts them tightly, takes a drag and exhales.

"Like this?"

"Sure, now count to ten."

"One...two..."

Monkey picks her up, spins her around and tosses her through the window. She instantly merges with her body, falls out of the car and rolls to the ground.

"You son of a..." She lifts herself up and dusts off, checks her face in the mirror. "It didn't go away. Look at this!" she says pointing to the hole, tilts her head so she can see it better. "Maybe I can put some makeup on it." 

Monkey calls his summersault-cloud which swoops down and hovers next to him. 

"C'mon," he says. 

"C'mon where?" 

"We've got to find Pig and Mara." 

"On that thing? No way. I'm not leaving my baby," she says putting her hand on the hood of her car.

"We don't have time to argue about this." Darlene gets in the driver's seat, shuts the door, puts her seatbelt on and grips the wheel tightly with both hands. "Fine," Monkey says. "Have it your way." 

She lets out a shriek as her LeBaron lifts off the ground. Monkey carries it over to his summersault-cloud, leaps on top then shoots off a thousand feet in the air as he scans the horizon with his fiery gaze. Darlene's shrieks turn to hysterical laughter followed by a, "Ho...ly...shit," then clapping then more laughter. Monkey continues to scan as he hears the car door open then see's Darlene's head pop out upside down. 

"Do you think this is good for my suspension? I'm worried you're mangling her with your super monkey strength." 

"It'll be fine."

"You're gripping on the sides, right? Where the jack goes and not on any of the vitals?" Monkey ignores her and continues looking. "Just checking," Darlene says, her head disappearing, the sound of the car door closing then, "Is it ok if I turn on the radio?" Darlene turns the dial passing over the day time preachers and AM talk show hosts. "We get really good reception up here. I've never even heard of some of the stations. 99.4? The river? Oh god. It's smooth jazz." She flips around a little longer then, "Oh wait!" digs around the glove box, pulls out a cassette, winds it a bit with her finger, pushes it in the tape deck and cranks up the volume as Judy Garland's voice echoes over the clouds. 

"Somewhere over the rainbow 
way up high"

She sings along for a while then the car door opens again and Darlene's head pops down. "How bout we just go to Big Pine. We can be there and back before you know it and we'll catch up with them after. I'm sure they're fine. Probably just holed up somewhere." 

"I doubt it," Monkey says, "But, it would be easy to get there without Mara." He thinks for a moment then, "Buckle up." Darlene lets out an "Eeeeeeeeeee!" and clicks her seatbelt as Monkey leaps across the state of Florida. He lands on a long stretch of road, ocean on either side lapping at the massive concrete columns propping up a long stretch of highway running straight through the ocean. Darlene's still screaming as Monkey sets the car down and looks around. She stops, puts her hand on her chest to feel her heart then pulls out a Virginia Slim and takes a long drag as Monkey hops in the passenger seat. She exhales, adjusts the rearview, raises an eyebrow as she revs the engine and peels out. Monkey looks behind them.

"The sign says Big Pine is the other way." 

"I know where Big Pine is, but ol' Darlene's lived in Florida half her life and never seen the sunset in Key West, and we're just a few miles away." Monkey frowns. "Uh oh," Darlene says pinching Monkeys face looking for a cheek but failing to find one. "There's that look again. Relax. Your friends can take care of themselves. Besides, I just want one little peek at this sunset then we can hop in the car and come right back. Thirty minutes tops. I did go out of my way to drive you guys down here you know."

"You didn't drive us. I just leapt over the state." 

"Well, you did get me killed today, so there's that." 

"I brought you back to life!" 

"Yeah, but now I have this hole in my head!" she says pointing to the small bullet hole in her right temple. Monkey slouches in his seat as Darlene taps her fingers on the steering wheel smiling, throws a glance at him and squeezes his leg before stepping on the gas and letting out a little yelp. "We're going to Key West!" 

The sun's still high when they arrive. Darlene runs into a bar, Monkey follows close behind. 

"Do a shot with me!" 

He shakes his head but Darlene is already leaning over the bar holding up two fingers, asking the bartender about his mother and telling him about how her mother died last year in a boating accident and all about the house she grew up in which, "wasn't exactly a house, but more like a cobbled-together shack that floated when the water got too high." Monkey takes his eyes off her and is slapped hard on the back, spins around only to see Darlene pushing a shot in his hand. 

"We're in Key West!" she yells before gulping it down then motions for Monkey to do the same. He does so reluctantly and sets his glass on a nearby table then tugs on her arm. 

"C'mon, let's see the sunset." 

"We just got here. Let's go to the end of the strip and do the walk," she says sticking her elbow out for Monkey to grab. 

They walk down the street as people stop to laugh, take pictures and say things like, "That woman has a pet monkey!" or "Look at that Monkey!" or "Nice Monkey!" Not the most brilliant commentary, but to be fair, it is hard to think of witty things to say when you're drunk at three in the afternoon and you've just seen a woman with a hole in her head walking down the street talking to a four-foot tall monkey in tiger-striped pants. They make it two blocks before Darlene ducks into another bar. This is one is packed and they have to squeeze through a sea of old men in beige. 

Monkey looks behind him and sees, 

24 men on stage 
big white beards 
safari outfits 
beer and guts and smiles 
cheers as one stands
to recite a poem
he wrote 
about fishing 
The crowd is holding paper masks 
with a man's face 
on a stick 
two almond-shaped 
cut-outs 
for eyes 
as they cheer 
and the overhead fan blows 
the vinyl banner
that reads 
Ernest Hemingway Look-a-Like Competition 

Monkey tugs on Darlene's shirt. "Who's Ernest Hemingway?"

"Oh, some fisherman," she says raising her hand to get the bartender's attention. Monkey surveys the crowd as the staff moves some tables around getting ready for the arm wrestling competition. 

"Americans sure love their fishermen." 

He reaches back to tug on her shirt but she's gone, another woman standing in her spot wearing a bright pink tank top, her well-oiled hand waving a twenty-dollar bill. Monkey looks around, but is lost in a sea of beige. He pushes his way out to the street but she's not there either. "Of course," he mutters to himself then walks the rest of the way to the beach by himself. 

"This stupid sun's backlighting me. Is there a filter for suns?" 

A woman in a one-piece with giant red splashy flowers is looking at her phone as her husband hands their kid an ice cream, pays the vendor then screams, "I don't know!" There's a young woman lying on the beach in slumber party pose letting the waves crash over her. She gets up as her boyfriend shows her the picture, shakes her head then runs back to the water. "I want the waves crashing behind me. Also my face looks weird in that one. Can you crouch lower?" she says shielding the sun from her eyes with her hand. He flattens himself against the beach as she gets back into position and smiles. 

Monkey scans further and there are at least a dozen women having their picture taken doing yoga or pretending to hold the sun, or, in one case, both. There's a mother propping their baby next to a pre-made sandcastle, carefully curating a blue bucket here, a red sand scoop there, before running holding her phone yelling, "Don't move! Momma's gonna be right back!" Further out, there are rows and rows of women in beach chairs taking pictures of their legs, holding beers, daiquiris, posting emojis of hotdogs and smiley faces tearfully laughing. One woman, by herself, is carefully making footprints in the sand then trying to walk back and photograph them but the ocean keeps washing over and making them look like smooth divets. It happens a third time and she yells, "Jesus Christ!" before changing plans and flashing a peace sign next to a sailboat. 

"Did you see the pic that Jennifer posted last night?" a woman in a red bikini says walking by. 

"Oh my god. No. Where?" 

She shows her phone to the other woman who immediately starts laughing then, "and you liked it? You're such a bitch." 

"I know," she says tossing her hair. "Where's Chad?" 

Chad is sitting by his cooler playing pool on his phone, looks up long enough to give his girlfriend a wave then switches over to Instagram to make sure he's liked all her photos. The two women walk to the edge of the water, giggle and run away as their toes get wet, wrap their arms around each other as the red bikini lady extends her right arm to get a good shot. She takes five or six just to be sure and is about to walk back to Chad and yell at him for being on his phone when a giant wave crashes over and they're sucked out to sea. Their heads pop back up as another wave crashes and they wash up on the beach, two skeletons, bones picked clean, eyes covered in tiny grains of sand staring up at the sun. 

Monkey peers into the waves and sees, 

A demon with a thousand bloodshot eyes 
covering its body 
shovel-shaped mouth 
and taloned hands 
It moves invisibly in the water 
comes out with the surf 
sinks its claws in unsuspecting shoulders 
and cleans the body  
of muscle and flesh 
it's jaws click in ecstasy
as it writhes 
and removes the bones 
of all 
it's content 

Monkey reaches behind his ear, pulls out his cudgel and leaps into the waves. 

"Look," someone shouts, "that Monkey thinks he's people!" All the cellphones turn toward a wet exasperated monkey splashing in the water as people laugh and click and share. Monkey summersaults through the air and comes down hard on top of the demon, but his cudgel passes right through. As more people turn to stare, another thousand eyes open on its body, all searching, looking for flesh. It leaps out on the beach, it's taloned hands raised, mouth open, as it lets out a gurgled high pitched scream.

Monkey turns to the crowd, jumps up and down cursing them, waves his hands for them to leave, but they only laugh and text their friends who come running with hot dogs, bud light lime's, pool noodles and five-foot margaritas. More phones, more people, more eyes pop open on the demons till there's not a speck of flesh, just eyeballs squeezing together. 

"They can't see it," Monkey thinks as he dodges the talons which sink deep into the sand leaving five gaping holes that fill with water. He pole-vaults over the monster, lands, grabs the end of his cudgel with both hands, swings it over his head, catches an unsuspecting purple tube top on the end and rips it off sending it flying across the beach. The topless woman lets out a yelp and drops her phone in the water, the screen glows blue then the ocean turns it black. Monkey watches as a single eye from the monster disappears. He scans the beach at all the phones then smiles to himself, leaps in the water and is gone.

Deep down on the ocean floor
a mighty jade dragon 
pearlescent scales 
fine wispy beard 
and claws 
shinning in the light 
plays cards with  
an extremely upset looking tortoise 
and an aloof black snake 
small wood table between them 
sunk into a bed of seaweed 
drinks and chips and coasters 
a crab waiter that scurries away 
as the tortoise throws down 
his cards 
and the red and blue and white chips 
float off 
into the dark waves 
of the deep 

The dragon looks over as Monkey bows and hurriedly gets up. 

"I don't mean to disturb you but..." 

"But there's a terrible thousand-eyed demon. Yeah. We know. He's been there for years. Keeps to himself mostly." 

"He's eating people!" 

"Yes, well he can't exactly live off tortoises can he?" The dragon shuffles the cards. The snake yawns. The tortoise looks at Monkey and scowls, folds his arms against his chest. "I wish I could help you," the dragon continues, "but this is all the way up from the Jade Emperor. Nothing I can do about it." The tortoise continues to glare at Monkey. 

"What?" Monkey says returning his stare. 

"Oh you don't remember me?" Monkey shakes his head. "One day you barged into The Dragon Palace of the Eastern Ocean demanding we give you a weapon, and when we gave you that cudgel of yours, you smacked me over the head with it right before you left." Monkey stares blankly. "Not ringing any bells?" 

"Sorry."

"Don't mind him. He's mad I've been beating him in cards all day." 

Monkey turns to the Dragon. 

"I need a giant wave to crash over the beach. Do you think you could do that?" 

"Well, sure I could do it," he says dealing out the cards and picking his up, "but, you know, the Dragon of Wind and Waves is in charge of, well, wind and waves. I think there's a medium-sized one coming in a few hours if that would work." 

"No, I need something big." 

The dragon fans his cards out, rearranges a few. "If you want something out of the ordinary you'll have to go to Heaven and get the proper paperwork. If I make a giant wave The Dragon of Wind and Waves is going to get all pissy and the last thing I need is for him to start sticking his nose down here." 

"He's on vacation," the snake says trying to pick his cards with his tail. 

"That's right. He is on vacation." The dragon thinks for a moment. "You'll have to go to the Dragon of Clouds and Thunder. Not really his department, but he might be able to help you. Why don't you sit down for some cards and..." but before he can finish Monkey has leapt out of the ocean and straight up to the Western Gates of Heaven. 

The snake manages to play his first card flopping down a 2 of clubs with his tail. 

"Well that was rude." 

The dragon throws a queen of spades.

"Oh, you know him. The world's always ending with that one."

Monkey stands in front of the giant brass bars of the heavenly gates. A small guard station is unguarded, a clipboard hangs off the side. Monkey picks it up, flips through the pages of names then turns it over. Someone's scratched the words "Steve was here," into the wood and then underneath that, "No he wasn't". Jupiter is sitting on the edge of the clouds, feet hanging over, smoking. He looks up, sees Monkey hanging the clipboard back up, throws his joint over the side and quickly rolls to his feet. The gate is already ajar as Monkey walks up and Jupiter stands in his way. 

"You're not supposed to be here," he says holding his hand up.

Monkey sniffs him a couple times then looks in his bloodshot eyes. 

"Does the Jade Emperor know you're smoking again?" Jupiter turns red and his eyes widen. "Because from what I remember, he's already told you to stop smoking twice and I think a third time comes with a punishment." 

"You damn Monkey," he scowls. "What do you want?" 

"I need paperwork for a giant wave on a Florida beach later this afternoon." 

"The Dragon of Wind and Waves is on vacation." 

"You'll have to ask the Dragon of Clouds of Thunder." 

"Ah crap." 

"What?" 

"It's just that...he doesn't like me." He bites his lower lip. "You'll have to come with me." 

"I'm not allowed in heaven." 

"I know but, just turn into one of the things you can turn into and I'll sneak you in." 

Monkey pulls a pair of sunglasses from his pouch and puts them on.

"There's no need. These work just fine."

They walk together down a white clouded path, up a hill, past the stables and the peach garden, and the great palace of the Jade Emperor, past Lao Tzu's laboratory, to a squatty office building, a giant jade dragon fountain shoots water from its mouth onto a fish as Jupiter opens the door and Monkey follows him down a maze of hallways till they come to the door that says, "Dragon of Clouds and Thunder" etched on a wooden slate that's hung by a nail. Jupiter raises his eyebrows then pushes it open as they enter a cavernous chamber, seven alabaster pillars split up the room, an enormous dragon is curled around them, and in the middle of the room, a blinking crystal ball. 

"WHAT!" he booms as they enter. "Oh. It's you." He narrows his eyes at Jupiter. "What do you want?" 

"I...uh...have a request from...Monkey...a monkey about...a wave...in Florida." 

"You're bothering me because a monkey wants a wave on a beach in Florida?" There's a long silence as Jupiter struggles to come up with an answer. The dragon finally lets out a sigh and says, "I couldn't even help you if I wanted to, which I don't by the way. Look at my crystal ball!" Monkey and Jupiter look at the ball then back to the dragon. "IT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE BLINKING!" the dragon says furiously. "It's been doing this all morning. I put a call down to The Office of Magic and Crystals but they haven't even bothered to get back to me." All three stare at the blinking ball then the dragon's eyes narrow toward Jupiter. "I'll make you a deal, if you go down there and get them to fix my ball, I'll make whatever sized wave wherever you want it." 

Down in The Office of Magic and Crystals, Monkey and Jupiter sit waiting in hard orange plastic chairs pushed against the wall. There's a giant glowing crystal on the far wall with a slot at the bottom that's pushing out a seemingly endless paper strip that's covered the floor and has started to reach the tops of the desks that are currently occupied by two busy dwarves who are hurriedly cutting it up with scissors and putting them into file folders that are then given to other dwarves who are rushing around the office in a near panic. The reams of paper stop and the crystal turns a dark purple. 

"It's out of paper," one dwarf screams as another digs through a stack of cardboard boxes in the corner, finds a new reel, opens up the crystal, which is hinged on the side and fits it inside before slamming it shut. The crystal turns pink then starts spitting out more paper as everyone continues rushing around. 

Exasperated, one dwarf turns to the other and says, "We've got 35,342 requests from the state of California in the last hour!" The other dwarf rolls his eyes. "Julie alone has put in 300 requests since this morning." 

"Broke up with her boyfriend again?" 

He nods. 

"I've got," he picks up one of the strips and flips through the stack, "'Show me my place in the universe.' 'What does it all mean?' 'Why doesn't Brian like me like I like him?' and then one here that just says, 'Pizza'." 

"I've got a 'Pizza' over here too," the dwarf says combing through his desk. 

"You can just take those, 'place in the universe' requests and put them in the shredder." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah, new rule." 

The dwarf on the right looks up at Monkey and Jupiter then back to his papers. "I suppose you two want something of great importance?" Jupiter is staring at his hands so Monkey hops out of his seat and gives a small polite bow. 

"We're here on behalf of the Dragon of Clouds and Thunder. His ball isn't working. He said he called this morning and no one's gotten back to him." 

"Oh. That." The dwarf closes a folder and hands it off then leans back in his chair. "I would love to get right on that, but as you can see, we have our hands full. We told him to turn it off and on again. Did he try that?" 

"I don't know." 

"You don't know," he leans forward, sighs, opens a big leather book and runs his finger down a long list of dates. "Friday would work. How's Friday?"

"What can we do to...speed things up. I'm kind of in a hurry." 

The dwarf looks around and laughs. 

"Well, if these requests stopped coming I guess we could get all caught up, but..."

In an instant Monkey is plunging towards the earth. He drops into downtown Los Angeles, see's five different crystal shops, leaps into one and finds a man with dreadlocks sitting on the floor in front of an elaborate amethyst display, aligned in intersecting circles and triangles. 

"Welcome to High Spirit Rock Company," he says smiling, putting his hands together. "We're having a special today on..." 

Monkey whips his cudgel out, smashes all the crystals on the floor, in the display case, around the man's neck, on his wrists and in his pockets then leaps a thousand feet in the air and looks down with his fiery gaze. He plummets to the street, pushes down a chubby man in an "I am the Universe" shirt as he hops on the head of a woman in a white flowy linen dress ripping the crystals off their necks as he crashes through the window of an apartment complex disrupting an Ayahuasca ceremony led by a Shapibo Joe and His Mystical Guitar of a Thousand Voices, crushing their crystal altar and Shapibo Joe's Mystical Guitar, as he leaps through the wall and is gone.

A woman and her friend sit cross-legged in her bedroom a large chunk of golden onyx between them, Alex Gray poster on the wall as they burn sage and chant and pray, hands clasped together, eyes closed. They hear a strange sound and open their eyes, shocked to see the crushed onyx before them. 

"Look!" the friend says, "It's saying, 'your old life is crumbling. Leave it behind to embrace something new.' You should take that job in Arizona!" 

The woman looks unsure. 

"But what if the crystal IS the job?" 

Monkey leaps back to heaven, back to The Office of Crystals, a bit out of breath. The dwarves are wide-eyed looking at their giant crystal. 

"Well, I don't know what you did, but you managed to stop about 85% of incoming requests." 

The other dwarf turns to Monkey. "If you went to Taos I think we could knock out that other 15% pretty quick."

"No," the head dwarf says. "We don't want to put ourselves out of business." 

"What business? Are you getting paid for this?" 

"Don't start with that again. This is Heaven. What do you need that you don't already have?" 

"How about two weeks of vacation and a crystal that doesn't run out of paper?" 

"Excuse me," Monkey interjects, "but can you go look at that ball now?" 

"We'll talk about this later," the head dwarf says reaching down and picking up a tool bag "Now, let's go see this crystal ball everyone cares so much about." 

Back in the office of The Dragon of Clouds and Thunder the dwarf looks at the ball blinking on and off. He puts his tiny palm on top of it, hits it a couple times, reaches down toward the base and feels around before finding a white cord which he follows down to an electrical outlet. He pulls the plug, waits 10 seconds then plugs it back in. The ball turns red and starts blinking then is a solid red then eventually softens and turns blue. 

"Great. You're all set." 

"So what was wrong with it?" the Dragon asks. 

"I don't know what was wrong with it, but it's working now. All you had to do was plug it back in." 

"I did that," the dragon says, "but it didn't work for me." 

"Did you wait ten seconds after you unplugged it?" 

The dragon pauses.

"Yes." 

The dwarf shakes his head as the Dragon waves his tiny hands over the ball and mutters some magic words. 

"Is that it?" Monkey asks.

"That's it," the Dragon says. "But next time..." 

But before he can finish Monkey is falling back to earth, back to the beach where The Thousand Eyed Demon is waiting. He readies his cudgel but the demon doesn't respond. His arms are folded across his chest and all of his eyes look irritated.

"Oh, so now you're back and I suppose you think we can just start fighting again?" Monkey cocks his head and looks confused. "I've been sitting here ten minutes. TEN MINUTES. I mean, we were doing our thing, battling in the water, with your fancy stick, and then you just leave?" He puts his claws on what should be his hips. "Frankly, it's embarrassing. For you." He points to Monkey. "I've fought plenty of people and no one's left in the middle, so it's not my problem." Scans the crowd of beachgoers not wanting to make eye contact. "I'm a god damn professional. Even when I'm not feeling it, I'll at least be courteous enough to finish. But you? Not even a word. Not even a, 'Hey, I'll be right back. I gotta see Princess Iron Fan.' Not even a thought about how it'd make me feel." All of his thousand eyes blink as he folds his arms tightly across what would be his chest, "It never occurred to you, did it? I'm just another demon. Another notch in your belt. Yeah, I eat people, but I also get my feelings hurt like anyone else."

Monkey looks puzzled. "You don't want to fight me?"

"I mean, I WANTED to fight you. I was in the mood about ten minutes ago, but now, it feels so...forced." 

"Maybe if I start attacking you, you might get into it again." 

"Maybe, but now we're talking about it and it just feels weird." 

Off in the distance, a giant wave grows. Monkey see's it and leaps into the ocean. The Thousand Eyed Demon takes a deep breath, turns and readies himself only to see Monkey's gone again.

"Oh my god, are you fucking kidding me?" He throws his taloned hands in the air. "I am going to the..." but before he can finish a shadow eclipses the beach. It's almost sunset. All of the tourists are taking off their sunglasses, readying their cameras, pointing their phones at the sun. The Thousand Eyed Demon turns to see a massive wave, Monkey on top, gold banded cudgel in hand, riding his Summersault-cloud like a surfboard, the sun blotted out as it looms over the entire beach then crashes, a thousand watery hands strip the cell phones and swimsuits of every beachgoer pulling them back out to sea.

The demon peels himself up as Monkey stands triumphantly in front of him smiling.

"What was that supposed to do?" He brushes himself off. "What, so you got sand in my eyes. Big deal." 

The beachgoers start to get up, naked, slightly chilly, A few dive behind beach umbrellas or flip over lounge chairs. Others jump into the water. Some just laugh and start running around. Without their phones, the monster's eye start to pop, 500 down to 200 then 100 till he is just one giant beachball sized eyeball. Monkey walks over and picks him up, looks behind him and sees Darlene running toward him, a trophy in one arm and a six-pack of beer in the other. He waves but she doesn't respond.

"You're not too late for the sunset," he says admiring the trophy with two golden arms on top, "Did you win?" 

"Screw the sunset," Darlene says knocking the beach ball out of his hands. "What're you out here playing with toys? We got some real problems here!" 

Monkey looks behind her and sees The Ernests falling out of the bar, angry, red-faced, a mass of beige with arms waving, carrying fishing poles and beer mugs and copies of A Farewell to Arms. Darlene yanks Monkey along as they high tail it to the car, hop in and speed off, Darlene laughing as she takes out a fortune-teller stand, tarot cards scatter in the wind, as the psychic dives out of the way and the two speed off down the road to Big Pine.