Magical Mystery TourMature

    It was the most powerful hallucination I'd ever had. One second, I was at Jason's, the next, fuck knows. It was like it was real. Not the dreamed up half-real you get on the good stuff, but really, really real.

    I was in a white room, like those photographers have. White floor, white ceiling, white walls. You would have thought it was an endless expanse of whiteness if not for the way my shadow bent against the intersection between wall and floor, though where the light came from to cast a shadow, who knew?

    "Hello, take a seat Mr..." I spun round to see a man in black, sitting across the other side of a table. "..err, you don't seem to be on our lists Mr.?"

    "Mike. Mike Hawthorn. That's Haw-thorn, not Hot horn as the ladies like to say." I said winking, and feeling immediately stupid.

    "Yeeeessss, quite. Well Mr. Hawthorn, may I call you Mike? Good good, well Mike, I have here I little test for you."

    I squinted and walked over to the table and took the seat he had offered. For some reason, I couldn't seem to focus on the man's face, like he was really far away, yet right in front of me. "Whe-where am I?"

    "Calm down, calm down. All in good time. First of all I want you to fill out these forms of consent."

    "What consent? Consent for what?"

    "The tests, I did mention them, they are perfectly safe, in fact much safer than say, snakes for example."

    Suddenly, the whole room dissolved into a mass of snakes, twisting and coiling and hissing at me. I panicked and kicked out, unable able to scream as a stream of snakes poured from my mouth. As quick as they'd come, everything returned to normal and I was sat at the table again.

    "What the fuck happened just now?!"

    "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

    "The snakes! The fucking snakes man! Didn't you see the fucking snakes? They were bloody everywhere, I was fucking puking them!"

    "No, I'm afraid not Mr. Hawthorn." The said, raising an indistinct eyebrow. "Now, if you'd please just dispense with the paper work, we can get on with the test can't we?"

    "This is so fucked up." I muttered to myself as I read the forms the man slid across the table.


    The forms seemed to go on and on and on. Line after tiny line of legalese bullshit. Damn, I wished Benny was there, he could've understood this crap.

    "Look, enough fine print, what do these form actually say?"

    "Quite simply, Mike, that you give us full permission to perform these completely harmless tests on you and that you agree not to try and fake the results. Completely innocuous, no need to worry. You're not signing over your soul." The man laughed, it was a tinny laugh, as if it was in tunnel.

    "Okay, where do I sign?"

    "Oh don't worry about that, all we need is verbal consent, it's all recorded for your protection."

    I looked around, unable to see any recording devices of any kind. Maybe they were hidden in the walls.

    "Well, I'll give you a few few minutes while I prepare. See you shortly. Oh! By the way, you can call me Hawthorn, Mike Hawthorn. Small world isn't it." The man grinned, shaking my hand as his face resolved into a mirror image of my own.

    I stood up shocked, confused and then suddenly I was enveloped in darkness and gasping for air.

The End

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